#and completely tore up my hands trying to replace an outside door handle on my car

[whatimdoing-here]

I get excited and I really love things like building and fixing and using power tools

And god I wish I was better at it all.

[candyflosstoxicity]

Wanna Be Your Setting Lotion

Endeavor x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Power imbalance. Unsafe sex. Creampie. Breeding kink. Breath play. Pain play.

Despite the sizable uptick in his popularity after triumphing over the High-End Nomu, Enji still felt that his ability to relate to the everyday civilians was sorely lacking. There was still some doubt amongst the masses that he could be a suitable replacement for All Might. As much as that stung his ego, Enji knew that their misgivings weren’t unfounded.

He had promised his son that he would become a hero that he could be proud to call his father, and that meant more than just saving lives. Enji had to work to build a relationship with the public, and be a hero that was not only powerful, but approachable and relatable.

So, with his secretary’s assistance, Enji reached out to the most highly recommended media relations agency in Musutafu and requested that they pair him with a very particular type of publicist. He made sure to specify that they had to be thick-skinned and prepared to undertake all the work that would come with being the publicist to the number one hero. Though he had certainly made some important changes within himself, he still didn’t know how to talk to people and didn’t want to send the publicist running for the hills.

That was how you ended up standing outside the Endeavor Hero Agency. The glass skyscraper gleamed brightly under the sun, and really impressed upon you that this was happening. You had been assigned your first hero, but not just any run of the mill hero and it honestly had you feeling nervous in a way that you never had before. It’s not as if you doubted your ability to manage and improve the Flame Hero’s public image, but this was a major assignment that could either launch your career into the stratosphere or sink it like a stone.

After taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself, you walked briskly through the front entrance and into the main lobby, where you were greeted by the receptionist. You explained who you were and what you were there for, and she immediately hopped up from her desk in a panic and hastily led you to the elevator. It did nothing to quell your anxiety, because if his receptionist was losing her cool, what chance did you have against the man?

Upon reaching the top floor, the receptionist all but shoved you out of the elevator, giving you a hasty “good luck” while frantically pushing the button to close the door. You stumbled forward and were faced with a large, hardwood door. Having decided that you simply could not delay your assignment any further, you squared your shoulders, took decisive steps forward, and knocked on the door.

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

That was several months ago, and you could say with hindsight that you were right to be anxious. While working for Endeavor was the best way to cut your teeth as a publicist, the man himself was...something fucking else.

It wasn’t just that he was physically intimidating, with his towering height and mountains of muscle. Honestly, you were able to quickly get past that and start working towards building a friendly, yet professional relationship with your boss. Except, he was the most tight-lipped, awkward person you had ever dealt with when he wasn’t in the process of saving lives. And when he was actually somewhat talkative, he was so intense that it left you flustered.

However, Enji always treated you with respect and courtesy, and when you did well, he told you as much. Heat would crawl its way from the top of your head to the tips of your toes whenever he would tell you, “You’ve done excellent work this week, (L/N)-san. Your efforts are appreciated.”

To anyone else and coming from anyone else, it might not mean much, but Todoroki Enji wasn’t just anyone. He had high standards for all of his employees, and you were no exception. Praise from him was hard to come by, and when it was directed at you, it made you feel some type of way.

It was obvious to everyone with a pulse that Enji was an incredibly attractive man. Indeed, every interview you scheduled for him with a female journalist found him being inundated with coy smiles, flirting, and pointed questions about his relationship status.

To be fair, you had asked him the same question, but only because it was important for you to know as the person who handled all of his public relations. It definitely wasn’t because you were lusting after your client and hoping that he was free to maybe, someday, knock your walls down.

Still, you had always prided yourself on being the consummate professional, so you refrained from asking any questions that were too personal. Even though you were so often alone with Enji in his penthouse office, with little to no interruption, and a lot of plush furniture he could fuck you on…

You shook your head sharply, your dark, curly hair moving with the motion. ‘Focus, bitch. Don’t be a goofy and try to fuck your boss. He would probably fire your ass before you could ask for a crumb of dick.’

It didn’t matter if you hadn’t gotten laid since you started working as his publicist; you were NOT going to fuck Todoroki Enji.

Little did you know, Enji was enduring his own share of suffering and sexual frustration. And he had no intentions of denying himself. For him, it was simply a matter of opportunity.

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

It was finally Friday evening, and Enji was more than ready for the weekend. After a solid week of double patrols, while squeezing in PR appearances that you had set up for him, he just wanted to sit down in his recliner at home and have a stiff drink. He was sitting at his desk with his laptop open, finishing up some last minute paperwork on a report he needed to submit to the Hero Public Safety Commission by Monday.

Just as he put the final signature on the last page, you came bursting through his office door, without knocking, of course. Not that he minded; it was always a treat to see you, even if you were a bit...distracting. Your shapely legs carried you briskly towards his desk and he couldn’t help but admire how enticing they looked sheathed in your sheer stockings. He almost missed what you were trying to tell him, too busy imagining them wrapped around his waist.

“Endeavor-san, I’m sorry to disturb you right before quittin’ time, but I just finalized the details of your appearance on Present Mic’s late night radio show for next weekend,” you chirped with no small amount of satisfaction. Ah, right; Enji had agreed to make time for that, considering Mic was very popular with the young crowd and an appearance on his show would do wonders for his popularity with that demographic.

“He promised to keep it light and casual, and most of the time block will be spent playing some music that you both enjoy. I cross-referenced his playlist with the list you compiled, and y’all have some bangers in common. We’ll need to go over your note cards again, but I’m sure you’ve got that part covered by now.”

Your eyes were focused on the folder in your hands, flipping through the papers there as you went over the last minute details. Enji’s eyes were watching you, though, and he found himself struggling to give a damn about Present Mic or his radio show. Not when you were standing before him, a radiant vision of smooth brown skin and a halo of curls. How badly he wanted to sink his fingers into them and tug your head back, make you submit to him…

“Endeavor-san, are you listening?”

The question coming from your pretty lips, in that sweet, but sharp voice, was enough to finally get his attention. He tore his gaze from your petite frame and looked up to see your dark brown eyes staring at him sternly. Enji coughed and shifted in his chair, trying to subtly adjust his now rock hard dick.

“My apologies, (Y/N), I’m a bit worn out from this week,” he hastily assured you. “If you wouldn’t mind emailing those notes to me, I will look over them again this weekend.”

Your expression softened and you tossed the folder onto his desk before walking around to the side and perching yourself on the edge. Enji could practically feel the blood rush to his dick with you sitting so close to him, the scent of your perfume immediately clouding his mind. Your already short skirt rode up even higher and he had to force himself to look you in the eye, which he regretted shortly after.

“Have I been riding you too hard, sir?”

Enji’s eyes narrowed slightly at you, thinking that you must be toying with him. But, your face was devoid of cunning, and you seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being. He wasn’t used to that kind of consideration from really anyone, especially not one of his employees.

“No, far from it. You probably take it a bit too easy on me, but you still produce amazing results. I would be completely clueless about this public relations crap if I didn’t have someone as bright and clever in my corner,” Enji rumbled, almost bashfully, the tips of his ears still pink from your accidental innuendo.

He had no way of knowing, but the feeling that Enji’s praise gave you was like a shot of adrenaline to you. Warmth bloomed in your cheeks, and you quickly began stuttering and trying to downplay your contribution. However, Enji was having none of it and reached out to grab your anxiously fluttering hands, which had the desired effect of shutting you up.

But, Enji didn’t stop there. He was tired of you not giving yourself enough credit. More than that, he was tired of only being able to show his gratitude in words. So, he took advantage of your size difference and tugged you into his arms and then settled you on his right thigh, forcing you to straddle the muscular appendage.

“E-Endeavor-san?!” you squeaked out. Your tiny hands were encased in his much larger ones and even that small bit of skin to skin contact was enough to set a fire low in your belly.

“Please, call me Enji. It seems a bit formal considering the things I want to do to you.”

“And what exactly do you want to do to me, Enji?” Your voice was low and breathless, but he could see the excitement clearly in your deep brown eyes.

He released your hands and let his own wander down the curve of your sides to settle on your hips. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he engulfed the soft flesh there with a gentle, but firm squeeze. You gasped softly and instinctually ground down against the flexing muscles of his thigh.

Enji growled lowly in his throat and took one hand off your hip, and reached up to bury it in the soft curls that framed your gorgeous face. At first, he gently massaged the scalp with his fingertips, but when he felt you relax, Enji used the curls at your nape to tug your head back.

He loved how small you were in his arms, how easily he towered over you and controlled your movements. And there you were, gasping and squirming in his lap, letting him touch you in such a dominating way. It stoked a fire within him that he hadn’t felt in a long while, urging him to make you fall apart under his touch.

“There are so many things that I want to do to this tight, little body,” Enji whispered against your throat. He placed a heated kiss there, followed by a gentle nip before continuing, “But, for now, I want you to ride my thigh.”

To his delight, you didn’t hesitate to start meekly rolling your hips forward, your skirt bunching up around your waist with the motions. Still, you seemed to be holding yourself back, and he was having none of that. Using the hand that was still gripping your hip, Enji forced you to press down harder and move faster. Getting the message, you braced your palms against his broad, solid chest and began grinding against him in earnest.

The filthy moans you let spill from your plump lips were music to Enji’s ears, and he struggled to refrain from just ripping your stockings off and sliding your down onto his aching dick. There would be plenty of time for that later, but in that moment, he wanted to make you felt just how appreciated you were.

“Come on, little sparrow, I know you’re close. I can feel you soaking my pants leg.”

The desperation and desire in his voice drove your lust even higher. That, combined with the friction of your nylon stockings against your bare pussy, had you teetering on the edge of release.

“Please, sir!” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but he seemed to. And he was going to make you beg for it.

“Please what?”

“I...I want you to fuck me, sir! Please let me cum on your dick,” you pleaded with a breathless whine, never ceasing your wanton grinding.

“Oh, you will be cumming on my dick. But, first, you’re going to make yourself nice and sloppy for me.”

Enji gripped your hair tighter and pulled your head back until your spine arched. Now, your nails were digging into the skin of his pectorals, but he didn’t care because the end result was you humping against him with reckless abandon. No longer needing to guide your movements, he reached up and wrapped his other hand around your delicate throat, squeezing just enough to make the blood rush to your head. That was just enough to tip you right over the edge.

“Oh, oh!” Your hips began to stutter slightly in their movements as your orgasm crept up on you. A scream that surprised you, but made Enji growl in triumph, was ripped from your throat as you bucked wildly through the peak of your release. Letting go of your tresses and throat, Enji pulled you gently into his chest and ran his hands soothingly down your back. As your body trembled and quaked through the vestiges of your orgasm, he murmured soft praises into the crown of your hair.

“You did such a good job for me, baby girl. I’m so proud of you and all your hard work. Are you ready for your reward now?”

Despite the fact that you had just cum your brains out, his words of praise had you moaning wantonly, your head bobbing lazily in consent. Enji wasted no time in standing you up between his legs, supporting your weight effortlessly as he slid his hands up your inner thighs towards the crotch of your stockings. A brief, but loud ripping sound echoed in the spacious office, and then you felt a cool breeze against your soaked lips. Enji took a moment to run a thick finger through your dainty folds, making you shudder and moan.

Enji considered having you ride him again, but a glance at the large sectional he had in the corner of the room gave him other ideas. Picking you up as if you weighed nothing, he carried you to the luxurious piece of furniture and laid you down on your back. He immediately covered your body with his own and locked his lips with yours, the kiss quickly turning heated. While your lips moved together with unrestrained passion, he busied himself with undoing his belt and slacks. Once he got them undone, he freed his aching length from the confines of his underwear, hissing at the sensation of the cool air hitting the too hot skin.

Pulling away from your soft warmth, Enji made you look him in the eye before he asked, “It seems a bit late to ask, but are you sure this is what you want?”

Thinking he was just being considerate, you smiled softly up at him and nodded in affirmation. He kissed you hard, one more time, before looking down to guide his more than impressive dick to your dripping entrance. As soon as he pressed the head in, you knew what he was really asking you before, which was whether you could handle being stretched to your absolute limit.

You threw your head back, pressing into the soft cushion underneath you, and struggled to breathe around the sensation of his girth splitting you open. It was a good thing he made sure you were wet enough beforehand, otherwise, you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to take all of him.

Enji made sure to take his time pressing in and withdrawing, inch by inch, enraptured by the sight of your pretty pussy stretching around him. It was a couple minutes more before he was fully seated inside you, the head of his dick pressed snugly against your cervix. He paused his movements to press sweet, but rough kisses along your jaw and collarbones. You reached up and buried your fingers in his hair, applying the barest pressure to bring his face closer to yours so you could press your foreheads together.

“I’d really like for you to move now,” you panted softly. Sure, it was quite the stretch having him inside you, but it didn’t hurt and you were still filled with a burning desire to be wrecked by the giant hovering over you.

Withdrawing slowly, so slowly, Enji paused again to watch your face as he gave a quick, experimental thrust. The cry of pleasure you let out snapped his resolve to continue taking it slow, and he began to fuck into you with a vigor. All you could do is tighten your grip on his red locks and hold on for the ride.

“God, you feel so good wrapped around me. Do you have any idea how long I have wanted this? How many times I’ve fantasized about fucking into you like this, making you my little cumdump?”

Enji was actually caught off guard with how visceral your reaction was to his dirty talk. He didn’t think it possible, but you became even tighter around his dick, nails biting into his scalp, as well. You began trying to thrust back up against him, but he was having none of that. Enji pulled back just enough to take your legs and throw them over his shoulders so he could put you in a mating press.

“Oh gods, yes, just like this, Daddy!” you wailed loudly, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You were overwhelmed with the pleasure from his rigid member rubbing against your velvet walls with the new angle.

A groan that sounded like a snarl rumbled in Enji’s chest at the sound of your fucked out voice calling him ‘Daddy’. It made him want to grind his dick deeper into you, until all you could see, feel, or taste was him and the pleasure he was giving to you.

“Fuck, if you call me that again, I’m going to fucking cum and I’m not going to pull out.” He expected you to object, or something but instead, you attempted to pull him in closer with the strength of your legs alone.

“Please, please, please fill me up, Daddy! I want it all, please, give it to me!”

Pace quickening at your filthy words, Enji leaned forward until you were practically pressed in half and his thrusts had the tip of his dick bumping your womb with every plunge deeper. You were unable to even scream, the air knocked from your lungs and your brain foggy with thought-warping ecstasy.

“Goddammit, you’re gonna make me cum, baby. I’m gonna fill you up to the brim. Gonna make you round with my child. Is that what you want?”

All you could do was nod frantically, incoherent pleas and his name spilling from your drooling mouth in an endless stream. You would do anything, say anything, just to feel his hot cum paint your walls.

From the way you were clenching and pulsing around him, Enji knew that you were close to the precipice again already, and he was ready to tumble over right along with you. Letting go of the last bit of restraint holding him back, Enji captured your lips in a searing kiss and swallowed your cries of passion as he began to piston into your tight heat, chasing his orgasm and hurtling you towards yours.

A shrill scream muffled by his lips and the sharp tightening of your walls around him signaled to Enji that you were cumming, and he quickly followed after you. His powerful hips stuttered once, twice before he drove his entire length fully inside you and stilled, his head pressed to the opening of your womb. Much hotter than you were expecting it to be, spurts of cum that seemed endless gushed deep inside you, prolonging both of your orgasms to the point of over-sensitivity.

When you both finally came down and got your breathing under control, Enji slowly pulled out from you and gently eased your legs off his shoulders. He gathered you up in an embrace and flipped the two of you over so that you were laid on top of him, head resting against his chest. Again, he stroked your back and sides soothingly, murmuring words of praise and comfort.

For your part, you were fucking wiped, your heart still racing and brown skin dewed with sweat. You could feel cum leaking out of your abused hole, but could hardly be bothered to care with exhaustion and satiation weighing so heavily on your eyes.

With strong arms wrapped around you and every bone in your body feeling like marshmallow, you snuggled closer to Enji and fell asleep to the steady pulse of his heart in your ear.

[humbughana]

pick me up

ugh this is tooth rotting sweetness. 

warnings- fluff, drinking. enjoy :)

rafe has to pick up lola at a bar

“are you sure this is a good idea, lo?”

Lola scoffed at her boyfriend through the phone screen as he questioned her ‘girls night’ for the hundredth time during their facetime call, “you worry too much.” she picked up the phone with a frown, “plus, you know that girls night is strictly confidential,” Lola spoke with a shrug as she applied a layer of lip gloss before looking herself over one more time in the full-length mirror.

Rafe’s face curled into a smirk when she turned her attention back to him, “mhm. It does become my business when you call me to pick you up tonight.”

“I did that once!” 

Rafe laughed warmly at her reddening cheeks but couldn't help it, “three times actually.” His girlfriend only scowled at him through the screen, “we’ll see about that.” Lola mumbled but she knew he was right.

The shouting of someone in the background tore her away, “I gotta go, Rafe! Duty calls.” She grinned with a wink and he groaned, “You worry me, baby. Have fun tonight.” 

Lola waved to the camera before hanging up and sliding on her shoes. Honestly, girl's night just consisted of her and a group of girls from her sorority bar hopping until someone inevitably tapped out for the night. 

And every time, somehow, it was always her.

So an hour later, at the first bar, Lola swore to pace herself. That was until it was time for group shots, and then another round, and then more shots and- you get the picture. What kind of person would she be to turn down a free drink? 

This routine was followed everywhere they went and at the third bar of the night, things began to blur together, “lo, are you good?” her best friend, Ally leaned in with a knowing smile, “maybe some water?” her friend took the half-drunk truly out of her hand but Lola shook her head, “we should dance!”

It should have been some record, honestly. Lola was dancing in the crowd, completely trashed and it was barely midnight. Another shot later, Ally caught sight of her best friend dancing on top of one of the chairs, laughing with complete strangers as they cheered her on. On any other night, the girl might have pulled her down but rule number three of girls night etiquette clearly states, thou shall not leave a friend alone on the dance floor. 

Or in this case, a bar stool.

So moments later, the two girls were giggling like children as they looked down on the bar around them, dancing their best on the little surface they had without falling. All the while, too drunk to see straight, it truly was a feat.

Meanwhile, Rafe was mindlessly scrolling through his phone back in his room, trying to study and failing miserably when a Snapchat popped up on his phone from his girlfriend. He smiled, only imagining what it could possibly be. Opening the picture, it was blurry but he could see Lola with her arm around Ally as she grinned, clearly above the ground. 

Rafe shook his head and texted her immediately-

get off the stool

Her reply was near-instantaneous,

make me?

He could imagine her rolling her eyes and it made him grin but he left it at that and moments later she texted him again,

that's what i thought

Lola and Ally found themselves back at the bar, ordering more drinks as if they could handle them. Well, Ally probably could, her friend had perfected the art of boot and rallying, something Lola still couldn't fathom. The bartender narrowed his eyes at her knowingly, “you’re cut off.” Lola gasped as he slid her a cup of water instead of what she asked for, Ally giggled with a shrug, “what?” sipping her new drink that she was given.

Lola crossed her arms but ended up giving in and taking the water as Ally went to join their other friends who all seemed to be faring well as Lola began tripping over her own feet. She leaned into one of her friends who laughed, “hey lo, havin’ fun?” the girl nodded with hazy eyes, barely able to keep them open as time began to pass. She didn’t know how long she stood there, leaning into her friend who held her up but when a new set of arms wrapped around her waist from behind, she jumped as her friends shook their heads, “how you doing, lo?” Lola gasped at her boyfriend's voice in her ear and she spun around, stumbling slightly but he held her up, “Rafe!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck, “ m’ so happy you're here!” 

Rafe laughed in her ear, “you ready to go?” he asked, keeping his hands on her waist to make sure she didn’t fall. Lola frowned before it clicked, gasping she turned around and dramatically pointed a finger at her friends, “which one of you snitched!” All of the girls held up their hands in defense as Lola crossed her arms, “traitors,” she mumbled, leaning back into her boyfriend.

“c’mon lo, i’ll even stop and get you food on the way home,” his pouting girlfriend finally looked up at him, still frowning, “french fries?” 

Rafe nodded solemnly, “all the french fries you can eat, baby.”

Lola finally cracked a grin and nodded excitedly and now Rafe was the one being dragged out, “bye!” she called over her shoulder to her friends who waved goodbye. Rafe smiled thankfully at one of the girls that texted him, “rafe! come on! we don't have all night!” Lola tapped at her wrist where no watch was laid exasperatedly. 

Rafe jogged to catch up to her as she stepped outside, relishing in the cool air. His arm wrapped around her shoulders and then led them to his car which was parked just around the corner noting the way she swayed slightly with an amused smile.

“don’t look at me like that,” Lola mumbled as he helped her into the car before buckling her in, “like what?” he asked, still leaning over her. 

“like you won,” Lola pushed his cheek away with a finger and then let out an obnoxious groan, “why is it always me?” she exclaimed and Rafe laughed, leaning in and placing a kiss on her cheek before shutting the door and rushing around to the driver's side, “my little lightweight.” she grabbed the hand that laid on her thigh and threaded her fingers through his with a sigh, “shut up, it's embarrassing,”

Rafe shook his head and brought their hands up, kissing the back of her hand softly. Lola melted slightly before he added, “yeah, it kind of is baby.” Rafe playfully added on and loudly laughed when a scowl replaced her soft smile and she ripped her hand away from him. 

“I cannot stand you,” she shook her head but grinned anyway when they stopped at a red light, Rafe only pulled her over the console and kissed her. 

“You love me,” 

 “Yeah, yeah.” Lola scoffed, “less talk, more drive.” 

Rafe shook his head and when the light turned green he didn’t move, the car behind him blew the horn and Lola’s eyes went wide looking at him.

“what was that?” he asked with a glint in his eyes, without a care in the world as Lola looked at the car behind them and the person waving their hands around, “Rafe!” 

“Hm?” he asked patiently.

“I love you!” Lola yelled at him and he only grinned and sped off, easily putting distance between the car behind us, “you’ve lost your mind,” she fell back against the seats with a groan. 

Rafe only pulled into the Wendy’s and kissed her again sweetly, “french fries?”

Finally, Rafe had driven her back to her sorority house, the two of them sneaking around to the back of the house and into the door that led to the back staircase and up to her floor.

Tripping over a rock, Rafe kept Lola from falling face-first as he cursed, “jesus lo, you’re gonna get us caught. again.”

Lola rolled her eyes, pushing him off her in the dark and typing in the code to the door, “i swear you are the most dramatic person, i’ve ever met,”

Rafe pushed her up the stairs, a hand sliding to her butt before she batted his hand away, “stop!” she whispered yelled at him but let him push her into her room that she shared with Ally who surely found someone to hook up with tonight. 

He pushed her toothbrush into her hands and she only flashed him her middle finger wordlessly before going to brush her teeth and wash her face. When she came back, Rafe threw her an old shirt of his and a pair of sleep shorts and all but watched her undressed as a slow smirk crossed his face.

“don’t even,” she held a finger up as he got a show when she put the new shirt on. Rafe sat on the edge of her bed wearing some clothes he had left her over the few months they had been dating, he grabbed her waist when she neared the bed.

Lola placed her hands on either side of his face before leaning down to rest her forehead against his, “m’ tired.” Rafe pulled her down next to him, “let’s go to sleep, baby.” his hand fell across her waist as he pulled her back flush to his front. Lola easily fell into his hold, relaxing finally, “hey rafe,”

“Mhm,” he mumbled into her neck and she fought a grin.

“love you,”

Rafe pinched her side lightly and she squirmed, “smartass,”

Lola giggled before closing her eyes again and right before she fell asleep Rafe kissed the top of her head, “love you too, lo.”

[five-hxrgreeves]

I Won’t Back Down - Five Hargreeves x OC

Word Count: 3,467

Oh, we've got to hold on, ready or not You live for the fight when it's all that you've got Woah, we're half way there Woah, livin' on a prayer Take my hand, we'll make it I swear

1  | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Pt. 5- The Road to Hell... 

Five Hargreeves has never claimed to be a people person. Even growing up surrounded by six other kids, he preferred to lock himself in his room and work on equations than actually interact with them aside from what was mandatory. That didn’t mean he didn’t care for them- because he did, at least where Six and Seven were concerned- he just liked his space and it was in this space that he discovered his potential for time travel.

When he’d first broached the subject with his father he’d been promptly shut down leading to one of their many quarrels and another punishment. That was not enough- never enough- to deter him from pursuing something on his own, though. He was smart enough to figure it out without help. The boy also made sure word of it never got out to his siblings; most wouldn’t care and think that he was just rubbing it in like the cocky way he usually did but Six would give him worried, warning glances and Seven would try to talk him out of it in her own shy, quiet way.

It was best to keep this to himself.

He’d been practicing his special jumps for years now and had advanced in leaps and bounds- literally. While he was still limited to short distances he could do more at once than he ever had before and they were pin-point accurate (he could actually land on the head of a pin if he felt like doing something so ridiculous. He didn’t.) Time travel was just another aspect of his powers, as linear as his jumps were and as straight forward as any equation usually was for him. He’d done the math and it was ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent possible that he would be successful; the point-oh-one was an unnecessary margin of error that he allowed himself just in case. Every mathematician had their occasional inaccuracies.

Five had made sure to repeat the equations over and over, too, to double and triple check his work. Now, he felt ready to present the subject again and have evidence that it could be done. Distantly, he heard the robotic woman they called mother ring the bell, a tradition that signaled their meal was ready. Setting down his chalk, the boy left the room and met his siblings at the stairs, completely silent apart from their footsteps approaching the table. The recording their father liked to listen to, Herr Carlson, was already playing as they stood by their seats waiting for the man himself to arrive.

They sat in number order beginning with Reginald’s seat, with Number One being on the left, Two on the right and so on until the last three; Five was on the left, Six was across from him and Seven at the head.

“Sit!” their father barked and the children followed the command without delay, pulling out their chairs almost in sync as they sat down.

Now that the speaking part of the meal was over, they turned their attention to the various tasks that they did at the table while eating, the recording continuously playing over the sounds of their activities. Five clenched his teeth slightly at the irritating repetitiveness of it all and stared down the table at the man he called his father, watching him take a drink from his cup.

Knowing he wouldn’t get the man’s attention if he tried talking, the boy gripped the handle of his knife and stabbed it directly into the table.

“Number Five?”

“I have a question,” he said coolly.

“Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules. No talking during meal times,” Reginald answered, not even sparing a glance up from his plate, “you are interrupting Herr Carlson.”

Irritation prickled along his spine and the boy dropped the utensil roughly against his plate, “I want to time travel.”

“No.”

“But I’m ready,” he responded flatly, “I’ve been practicing my special jumps, just like you said,” he stood and demonstrated, feeling a flicker of pride when he landed right by the man’s elbow.

“See?”

“A special jump is trivial compared to the unknowns of time travel,” he answered, not deigning to look at him, “one is like sliding along the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn.”

Five forced himself not to snarl at his father’s terrible explanation. He really hated riddles. Instead, he let out a sharp breath, “well, I don’t get it.”

“Hence the reason you’re not ready,” the man said, as if that was all the answer that was needed. He took another sip from his glass.

Five accidentally looked down the table to where Six and Seven sat, knowing that this would be a surprise to them. He rolled his eyes internally at Seven’s predictable reaction as she shook her head at him, looking slightly fearful. He turned back to his father, “I’m not afraid.”

“Fear isn’t the issue. The effects it might have on your body, even on your mind are far too unpredictable,” he threw his own utensils down and finally looked at the boy, “now, I forbid you to talk about this anymore.”

The boy’s lips curled into a sneer at the thought of someone trying to control his powers when who knew them better than him? Reginald may be their mentor but what did he know about the extent of their abilities?  He turned on his heel and stalked away, ignoring his father’s shouts. He picked up speed as he left the dining room, running, running, running out the door, on to the street.

The fresh air hit his face, spurring him on after the drafty, stale air of the place he called home. Preparing himself for the first jump, he mentally checked his calculations and tore a hole through time.

Around him, the scene changed. The darkness of the evening was replaced by bright sunlight showing a warm, sunny spring. He scoffed, “not ready my ass.”

Fueled by his success, he jumped again, his heart leaping as the scene changed to winter, the previously open buildings changing as they lost business. Adrenaline pumped through him and he wondered exactly how far into the future he could go. What would he see? Predictions from Six’s science fiction books were unlikely but he could still come back and tell his brother all about the future.

He leapt again, blue light shining around him as he created his third portal. The boy suddenly stilled, watching as the familiar sights around him turned to ash and dust, rubble and burning fires stretching as far as the eye could see.

Something akin to terror rose within him. This wasn’t right. How could it be when the world had been so vibrant around him seconds before?

He forced his legs to move, running along the dirt path that stretched on for miles. The sky was a dark, ashy gray that gave away neither time nor date and the falling particles burned his lungs when he breathed causing his breath to shorten rapidly and gasp in his chest.

Five froze outside the familiar building, all grandeur now rubble and fire as he stared up at what was once his home. No. What about his siblings? His family?

“Vanya!” he cried out, forcing himself to be heard over the crackling fire, “Ben! Dad! Anyone!”

No answer came in the nearly silent world despite him looking around wildly for someone, anyone living. He could go back. The answer came to him suddenly on its own accord and hope surged in his chest as he forced his hands into fists, blue shining around them. He pushed against the fabric of time, trying to calculate a way out. Nothing.

“Come on!” he pleaded, he didn’t want to be stuck in this burning hell.

“Shit,” was his next word as his powers failed, sucking away the sudden hope.

His hands dropped and he stared around at the landscape, as desolate as he felt. How was he going to get back? He dropped to his knees in front of the remains of his home- a home that had been whole and filled with life minutes before.

--

Five wasn’t sure how long it had been when he forced himself to pull away. Night would be coming soon and there were other survival things that needed to be done. How had their father known how to prepare them for this?

The thought crossed his mind as he stood, eyes catching sight of a still-standing newspaper holder. He ran over to it and opened the broken glass front, pulling out one of the papers. April 1, 2019 read the date, the headline was one that would be burned into his memory even after years of living in the apocalypse.

Then, he saw the first bodies lying in the rubble. The hand of a man was sticking out of a pile, clearly clutching at something. Five ran over to it and pried the glass orb out of the stiff, cold fingers. He wiped off the red, wet residue on the face of it, revealing a dark brown iris. It was a glass eye.

Still holding it, he followed the arm to a blonde-haired man with a cut next to his eye. Something niggled at the back of his head but he pushed it away. No, it couldn’t be. His siblings were still alive. Of course they were.

He ran to the next pile where a dark-haired man and dark-skinned woman were covered in rubble- both with their eyes closed and covered thickly in the falling ash. His feet skittered in the loose blocks but he made his way towards them, placing his hands on their shoulders and shaking them roughly. Please, he thought desperately, please be alive. Just be asleep.

It was a foolish, naïve thought but he couldn’t push it away.

Farther on, another man with a fur-trimmed coat was lying facedown in the rubble, eyes closed just like the others. Five’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at the damning tattoo on the man’s arm: an umbrella inscribed in a circle. The same one all of the Hargreeves children had, except Seven.

There was too much evidence to deny the terrible conclusion that formed in his mind.

--

Five forced the prickling tears at the back of his eyes away. He’d never been a crier; Reginald had beat that out of them at an early age. Still, he hadn’t even recognized his siblings until he’d seen the tattoos that bound them together. Then, he’d added rocks on top of their partially-buried bodies as a makeshift grave. That had been when he’d almost cried, when the last possible sighting of his siblings’ faces had finally been covered. They weren’t really his siblings, though, because he didn’t know them in this timeline. He knew their fifteen-year-old versions, back in 2004. This shouldn’t matter to him.

(It did.)

The boy tilted his head up and stared into the dark sky until his eyes burned for a different reason. Water was going to become a precious commodity; he shouldn’t waste what hydration he had on crying.

Again, he pulled himself away, telling himself it was useless to linger over the dead. He couldn’t help those siblings. (But oh, how he wanted to.) They were somebody else’s family. His were still alive in 2004, blissfully unaware of the fate that awaited them. There was still something he could do about that.

Five turned and walked away, steeling himself to face this strange, new hell.

--

He wasn’t sure what was worse. The dusty, dark days or darker nights. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed. There was no sound except for howling wind, the crackling of fire and the creak of the wagon which was piled with necessary items like food cans and a supply of water that he’d found, his best prize.

By now, he’d covered himself entirely to keep the ash from burning his skin, a mask over his face to help his breathing and goggles to protect his eyes. These items were all found by scavenging around the city. He’d left the familiar block of the Academy behind and had begun searching in other buildings. These were more family-styled homes and he occasionally came across the bodies of little kids or parents which caused him to quickly turn away before the little food he’d eaten made its reappearance.

There was still no one who seemed to have escaped whatever disaster had ended the world. He’d been on his own for seemingly days now, not another living soul in sight, just stinking, dead bodies partially or fully covered by rubble. The boy tried not to think about them too much. It wasn’t that they disgusted him- well, the adults didn’t- but living in the world of the dead while he was still living was not a thought that sat comfortably in his mind.

Rubble shifted haphazardly under his hands as he searched for food, the cleared space revealing the short, dark hair of a woman. He moved to another spot immediately, continuing his search. Then, he froze.

Unless his ears were tricking him, there was a tinny bang, bang, bang coming from somewhere. The hits were too evenly spaced to be anything but purposeful. The hope that he’d thought had died suddenly resurged full force and he scrabbled over to the sound, “hello?”

His voice was hoarse and uncomfortably loud. The banging continued, “hello? Is anyone there?” he tried again.

There was no answer except for the continuous hitting sound. He shifted the rubble around on top of where he thought it was coming from until a dark crack appeared between the broken pieces, “hello? Can you hear me?”

The sound was definitely louder now and he made an effort to make the hole bigger, muscles tensing as he prepared for a maybe not-so-friendly encounter.  Then, it was large enough to see inside. The pale, dirty face of a girl looked up at him, her eyes squeezed tightly shut against the apparent brightness. How long had she been trapped under there? Days? Weeks? It was clearly awhile from how thin her face looked.

Five wasn’t even sure if she was real and he was just imagining the whole thing. He couldn’t help the disbelief that entered his tone as he asked, “what the hell?”

That wasn’t the best response to seeing the first human- alive- that he’d seen in however much time it had been, but like he’d said, he wasn’t a people-person. The girl didn’t respond, eyes still screwed up in a way that made her face look scrunched.

“Here, grab my hand, I’ll help you up,” that was better, he decided, and extended said hand to the girl.

After realizing she couldn’t see it, he grasped her hand himself and startled at how small and bony it seemed. He pulled her out easily and wasn’t surprised to see that the rest of her matched the gaunt face and frail hand.

“Open your eyes,” he tried, “slowly. How long have you been down there?”

The girl shook her head, most likely answering both questions. He sighed and turned, “hold on a second, I’ll get something to help.”

Five returned to his wagon before she could protest and shifted around in his items, pleased when he found another pair of goggles. Stumbling slightly back to her, he placed them in her hand, “here, they’re not sunglasses but they should be better than nothing.”

He watched as she put them on, struggling slightly with the strap until it was secure. Her face relaxed and her eyes opened cautiously. Five tried not to suck in a startled breath. Her pupils were so large only a thin, blue line could be seen around them. It was kind of creepy if he was being honest. Immediately, she shut her eyes again. He didn’t blame her.

“What’s your name?” the boy tried, never one for small talk but knowing it was important.

The girl opened her mouth to answer but no sound came out. She shook her head.

He let out an irritated huff, “fine, then is this your house?”

She nodded, confirming that yes, it was.

“Are there any supplies in your basement?”

Another nod.

“Is there anything I need to know before going down there?”

Again, she nodded, then paused, seemingly trying to get her words to work. When they didn’t, she made an open-close motion.

“Now isn’t the time for charades.” He wanted to tack on moron or some similar insult but he forced himself not to. She wasn’t one of his siblings.

The girl did the motion again and held her cupped hands up to her face, as if she were reading.

“A book, you want me to get a book,” the disbelief was back.

When she nodded vigorously, he sighed, “fine. Where is it?”

The question made her still, uncertain of how to act out the location. Then, she drew a flat, rectangular shape in the air and two smaller ones on top of it. He really hated riddles.

“I don’t get it,” he grumbled, frustrated, “just tell me they’re easy to find.”

The girl nodded again, “fine,” the boy decided, “I’ll get your stupid books. Wait here.”

The darkness didn’t bother him as he descended into the basement. Reginald would never let his adoptive experiments be afraid of something so silly as pitch-blackness. Then, Five’s foot hit something on the bottom step that almost made him loose his balance, “shit!” he cursed, righting himself.

The boy bent down and felt for the obstacle, startling at the waxy feel of a candle. Well, maybe she’s not a complete moron, he allowed. He felt around for matches and soon a small, golden glow lit up the dark space. He was surprised to find the basement completely intact. Then he immediately wrinkled his nose. It stank like hell.

After several minutes of searching, he found the partitioned food in the back storeroom, the paint cans with broken lids and the tools, which he rooted through to find the most useful ones. He was especially pleased when he found a rope. Then, he turned to make his way back to the surface only to pause at the bottom of the staircase. Her stupid books.

Five remembered seeing a desk at the edge of the circle of light so that’s what he went to find. On the surface sat three books: a used notebook and two published authors. He added those to the steadily-growing pile and clambered out messily, fighting to keep his balance as things spilled out of his hands.

Irritation pricked at him when he saw the girl was still standing, unmoving and eyes closed, right where he’d left her. Scratch that earlier thought, he grumbled, she is a complete moron.

After placing the things in the wagon, he made his way back over to her.

“Here,” he said, stuffing the requested items into her arms.

Her facial muscles twitched into what was probably her first smile in days, a sign of gratitude, he knew. He brushed it off, “you better open your eyes, we’re moving.”

She shook her head and his annoyance grew, “well, I’m not guiding you the whole way. There’s too much searching to be done and night will be here soon. You either open your eyes or I’m leaving you here.”

He wouldn’t, he knew. If she was the last human left alive he didn’t want to lose his only source of humanity.

Luckily, that caused her to open her eyes even as her face screwed up in pain. He pursed his lips in displeasure and studied her outfit, “the mask will help but you have to cover up. The ash burns and I don’t have any way of healing you if you get hurt.”

She seemed to be understanding about that and after some difficult maneuvering- and several close calls where he’d had to catch her- they made it to the wagon where he began handing her the extra clothing he’d found.

Once she was set up appropriately, he picked up the handle of the almost-full wagon. The girl tapped him on the shoulder.

“What?” he asked shortly.

She handed him the spiral-bound notebook, opened to the first page. On it, in slightly loopy, readable handwriting was the opening sentence: My name is Lola Gimbel and I was born August 1, 2004.

[narukoibito]

worthy of love anyway

A gift for @hillnerd / @hillyminne for all the amazing Harry Potter quarantine activities and for being just a kind, wonderful person!

Summary: The image of his own reflection caused a burst of desperate desire in his heart. The shiny badges and trophies. Proof that he was as cool as Bill, as brave as Charlie, as funny as the twins, as smart as Percy, as beloved as Ginny. He fell asleep fitfully as resentment burned in his gut as he remembered Harry’s flippant dismissal. What’s interesting about that?

Ron Weasley, the sixth son, in six scenes.

FF.net | AO3

Note: Lyrics from "Three" by Sleeping at Last. It screamed "Ron" to me from the very first listen. This is my first Ron-centric story. I hope it does him justice.

*

i. Maybe I've done enough, / And your golden child grew up. / Maybe this trophy isn't real love, / And with or without it I'm good enough.

"Look at me!" Ron said, his voice filled with awe. He only saw himself in the mirror — but instead of his skinny, gangly self, his reflection was taller, fitter than Charlie, and handsomer than Bill! There was an air of confidence to his reflection, whose Head Boy badge and Quidditch Captain badge glinted cheerfully, almost as brilliantly as the House and Quidditch Cups he carried with ease. Older, cooler, happier Ron gave him a wink.

"Can you see your family standing around you?" Harry answered with excitement.

"No — I'm alone — but I'm different —" Ron explained what he saw, glee bubbling up inside him. He desperately drank in the sight of himself, of everything he had ever wanted. But he tore his eyes away from the mirror to look at Harry, wanting to gauge his reaction. "Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it? All my family are dead." The hurt and pain that shined in Harry's eyes made Ron falter. "Let me have another look —"

"You had it to yourself all last night," he protested. "Give me a bit more time."

"You're only holding the Quidditch Cup, what's interesting about that?"

Only? Pressure built up in Ron's chest.

"I want to see my parents."

"Don't push me —" Ron was surprised by Harry's hard shove, but was even more taken aback by his burning look.

The noise in the hall immediately disrupted the conversation. Ron quickly dragged away Harry, who seemed reluctant to leave. Even after they returned to Gryffindor tower, Harry seemed angry, which confused Ron and fueled his frustration. He burrowed deeper into his bed and drew his blankets closer, holding tight to the image of what he hoped would be his future.

The image of his own reflection caused a burst of desperate desire in his heart. The shiny badges and trophies. Proof that he was as cool as Bill, as brave as Charlie, as funny as the twins, as smart as Percy, as beloved as Ginny. He fell asleep fitfully as resentment burned in his gut as he remembered Harry's flippant dismissal.

What's interesting about that?

But when the morning light crept in and woke Ron from his deep slumber, the resentment had faded away, leaving only a resounding hunger. After a hearty breakfast, he was ready to enjoy the rest of his holiday with Harry.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed distant and detached. For the second day in a row, he pushed his food around on his plate as he stared unseeing at the eggs, the burning hunger in his eyes not matching his appetite.

"You're not eating anything," Ron said, but Harry shook his head at Ron's attempt to add food to his plate. He couldn't help but glance at the empty spot beside him, wondering what Hermione would have said to get Harry to eat.

Back in the common room, Ron tried to coax Harry out of his mood, offering to play chess or Exploding Snap. But Harry simply stared listlessly at the fire, his knees drawn toward him, looking cold and alone. Ron thought back to why he was here rather than back at the Burrow. He thought of the curt, unfeeling letter from Harry's relatives. He thought of the mixture of shock and painful hope on Harry's face at the embarrassing jumper his mum sent.

"I know what you're thinking about, Harry — that mirror. Don't go back tonight."

"Why not?"

"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it — "

Harry shook his head, reckless determination radiating from his body. 

Ron fiddled his new jumper, poking a finger through the yarn to make a small hole. Maybe Ron couldn't be what the mirror showed him to be. Maybe Ron couldn't replace the things that Harry saw. But at least he could try to be there for Harry.

ii. Maybe I've done enough, / Finally catching up. / For the first time I see an image of my brokenness, / Utterly worthy of love.

This was going to be the worst Christmas ever. He pressed his face further into his pillow, trying to will away the holiday. Bill and Fleur had been trying to engage him in some pre-Christmas cheer, but all Ron could think about was what today was like for Harry and Hermione. Were they shivering by a small fire and a tin of beans, looking ragged and worn? Or were they looking far better than when he left, determined, happier, complete without him?

He flopped over in the bed onto his side and wrapped his arm around himself.

It was still early if he was right about the amount of light parting the darkness through the window, and no one else in the cottage was stirring. He considered trying to sleep but knew it was useless. When he closed his eyes, it was like he could see her, running towards him, large tears streaming down her pale face, her hands reaching up to hold onto him. Him wrenching his arm away, wanting nothing more than to see the hurt and rejection shine in her eyes — for her to feel just a modicum of the pain he had felt those weeks — years, watching her put Harry first. Just like everyone else.

Ron! Hermione had cried, begging him to stay.

He felt sick to his stomach now, remembering the fury, the wicked satisfaction of being able to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her, but he always seemed to. He had left, abandoning her and Harry and everything he had stood for in one fell swoop. The moment he had flung off the locket and Disapparated, all of those awful feelings had lifted, and in their stead, horror, dread, and guilt took hold.

Immediately, he tried to go back. The campsite was deserted, and he had felt ridiculously left behind.

Maybe they're better off without you, he thought morosely. Hermione would cry, and Harry would be there for her. They would comfort each other over what a prat he was, the weakest link, unable to handle the hunger, the hopelessness, the Horcrux.

Ron curled his hand into a fist. He had to go back, he had to make amends, he had to do what he had set out to do, perhaps had always prepared to do, the moment he pushed open that compartment door on the Hogwarts Express where the boy with untidy hair sat alone in second-hand clothes like him.

He closed his eyes.

He missed her.

"...Ron?"

He started at the sound of her voice, scared it had been his imagination, but he knew it was her. Hermione. Her voice was coming from the direction of…his pocket? Then he heard her again.

"…broke his wand…"

Ron fumbled out of bed, pulling out the Deluminator, which he carried everywhere. It looked exactly the same, but he heard her. He was sure of it. Hope bloomed in his chest for the first time since he left. He clicked the Deluminator, and the light went out from his room, only for a ball of bluish light to appear outside the window. It pulsed, beckoning him.

This was it.

He changed as quickly as he could, shoving his maroon pajamas and other things into his rucksack. Anticipation buzzed under his skin as he hurried out to the garden where he knew the little ball of light would be waiting for him. The light snow flurried around him as the hovering ball led him behind the shed. When they were hidden from view, it floated toward him and went straight to his chest, into his heart. It pulsed, achingly hot inside him, flooding him with memories of Hermione fussing over his homework, dancing with him at the wedding, lying Petrified on the hospital bed, brushing her lips against his cheek before tryouts, holding his hand at Grimmauld Place.

And Ron just knew what he was supposed to do; he knew the ball would take him where he needed to go.

He disappeared with a loud crack.

iii. Maybe I've done enough / And I finally see myself / Through the eyes of no one else. / It's so exhausting on this silver screen / Where I play the role of anyone but me.

His forehead stung from where the stupid badge hit him, but he barely noticed over the swell of emotion in his chest. Harry swept past him, up the stairs.

Ron stood motionless until there was no other sound in the empty common room aside from the occasional crack or hiss from the fire before he leaned over and picked up the lime green monstrosity. His fingers curled over the blaring words, POTTER REALLY STINKS.

He was feeling more and more like he had made a mistake. But why didn't Harry get it? If he had put his name in the Goblet, why hadn't he done it with him? The Goblet probably would have chosen Harry over him anyway — everyone always did. But they would have done it together. It would have given Ron just a sliver of hope, to have had just the chance of some of the endless glory of his best friend.

You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky… That's what you want, isn't it?

He sunk into the couch, staring at the fire. Unbidden, he remembered watching Harry all those years ago, when he had found the Mirror of Erised.

The guilt that had been lurking settled at the pit of his stomach, which had felt hollow for days. Hadn't he promised himself that he would be there for Harry? Didn't Ron know best of all everything that Harry didn't have? The way Harry had pressed his hand against the mirror.

You're only holding the Quidditch Cup, what's interesting about that?

Bitterness surged up, pressing against the guilt.

Ron had pushed aside his feelings then, hadn't he? He had put being Harry's friend first. He has always done that because — because Harry was his best friend. 

He just wished that Harry would try to do the same for him.

iv. And I finally see myself / Unabridged and overwhelmed, / A mess of a story I'm ashamed to tell. / But I'm slowly learning how to break this spell, / And I finally see myself.

The bark was rough against his palm as he leaned against a tree for a moment. His muscles ached from the damp, miserable cold. He had been wandering around for hours, staring hard into the darkness, waiting, willing for Hermione or Harry to appear. What he would give to hear her say his name again.

He told time by how long it took for his hands to go numb, and he would have to remember to recast a warming charm. Maybe he should rest at the base of the tree and try again in the morning.

Just as he was about to lie down, silvery light caught his eye. When the corporal doe materialized, Ron nearly yelped out in surprise. But the cry died in his throat at the sight of Harry emerging out of thin air, with a look of wonder and hunger. What was Harry doing casting his Patronus? Instinctually, he followed Harry, who followed the doe deeper and deeper into the thick forest. 

Without prompt, Harry broke out into a run. He was so quick, Ron worried he would lose him to the shadows. He stopped when the forest opened up to a clearing. But the silvery light of the doe had vanished, leaving only darkness. He strained his eyes, trying to find Harry.

Suddenly, a blue light appeared, revealing Harry and a small lake before him. Ron's breath caught in his throat, but somehow he felt compelled to stay quiet. Harry raised his wand, and Ron pressed himself against a tree, his heart clamoring loudly against his ribs. Harry spun around and knelt to the ground, the light from his wand reflecting on the black ice before him. He leaned forward, nearly pressing his face against the pool. After a few moments, he rose and began to pace.

All this time, with the Deluminator light inside him, Ron's primary concern had been to find Harry and Hermione again. It had taken his entire focus. But now, with Harry just a few feet away from him, suddenly all the fears and doubts began to fester again. The apology looming in the recesses of his mind sounded trite. What would they say? Would they even want to see him again? The cruel words he had said to them before he left rang in his head like a bell.

What if it was too late?

A sharp cracking sound jolted Ron from his reverie. He looked up, wide-eyed, to see that Harry had stripped down to his pants and was placing his wand on the ground. He couldn't…

Ron leapt up from his spot just as Harry jumped into the lake. Harry sputtered for a moment, his breath coming out in broken gusts of white. A chill ran down Ron's spine when he spotted an ominous glint around Harry's neck. Harry took one deep breath and vanished beneath the black depths.

Harry didn't reappear.

The locket, Ron realized with swelling panic. The locket must have made him do it.

He scrambled from his hiding spot to where his friend had just disappeared — movement catching his eye, but all thoughts scattering from his mind.

The dark waters reflected his pale, drawn face back at him, his blue eyes gleaming with rising fear as the seconds ticked away without Harry resurfacing. Not the face of a hero, not his brothers' or his sister's, not the glowing one in the Mirror. But the only one that could save Harry now.

The reflection's expression changed, becoming brazen and determined. Ron bit back a swear and dove into the icy waters.

v. Now I only want what's real, / To let my heart feel what it feels. / Gold, silver, or bronze hold no value here, / Where work and rest are equally revered.

The weight of the gold felt heavy and yet was lighter than he had imagined. Not that he had ever imagined this, he thought as his finger traced over the green ribbon. He looked up from the medal, out into the lake, the waves shimmering back at him. The breeze brushed against his neatly trimmed hair.

Ron wasn't sure what he was supposed to be feeling. The way people looked at him now was different, but he didn't feel any different. Was this how Harry had always felt?

"Hey." The wind carried Hermione's soft voice to him, and he turned. She was looking up at him, smiling despite the line of worry between her brows. An identical First Order of Merlin glinted from her chest. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, watching as she joined him on the rock. The smell of whatever potion she'd put in her hair made his lips curl up. "Wanted a moment away," he said, stretching his arms behind his head. He casually let one rest behind her, giving her something to lean on if she wanted. "I'm too famous for my own good."

She huffed in amusement before they lapsed into a comfortable silence. There was the sound of the lake, the leaves rustling in the breeze, and the murmur of everyone closer to the castle behind them.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked finally.

"I don't know," Ron admitted, watching her face drop. He swallowed nervously and fiddled with the tie Hermione had knotted too tightly. "I was thinking…of going to Australia with you. If you want."

Her eyes shined brightly, even as her face screwed up. She looked beautiful with the sunlight streaming through her hair.

"Yeah?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yeah," he said, pushing some of her soft, fuzzy hair from her face. "I'd even fly in an aero - thingy whatsit that Harry was talking about the other day."

"Aero-plane," she enunciated, swatting his hand away, sighed — not in disdain, as he had imagined months ago — but with amused affection. "And I already told you that it doesn't make sense to go that way."

She then launched into a long-winded explanation of the challenges of Apparation across long distances, bodies of water, and the complications of international Apparation customs. 

Sometimes he still couldn't believe it.

Least loved, always…

He shook the words away and smiled gently at Hermione.

"Come on," he said, interrupting her as she began discussing the pros and cons of Portkeys by taking her hand in his, lacing their fingers the way he had dreamt of since his fourth year. He looked over his shoulder at his family, where he saw Ginny practically shielding Harry from nosy strangers trying to get a closer look. His heart ached at the obvious absence there, and he squeezed her hand. "Let's join the others. I'm starved."

"Honestly, Ron!" she huffed predictably. "We ate just before the ceremony."

"Carrying this thing around my neck takes a lot of energy." He laughed.

vi. I only want what's real. / I set aside the highlight reel, / And leave my greatest failures on display with an asterisk, / Worthy of love anyway.

He stared hard at the mirror, his tongue caught between his teeth as he carefully adjusted his ginger hair with a comb. The damn butterflies in his stomach wouldn't stop fluttering.

"You look good, dearie," the mirror said in a cheery voice.

Ron eyed his reflection skeptically, but it only gave him a wink.

"You do," Harry confirmed from the door.

"Yeah?" Ron asked, pulling at his new and fitted robes. 

"At least this time it doesn't have lace."

"Har har," Ron said, but he smiled now at his reflection. Midnight blue was Hermione's favorite color. "Do you think I should have a smudge of dirt on my face, for old time's sake?"

"If you want her to kill you."

They were laughing when Ginny popped her head in, arching an eyebrow at her brother and boyfriend. "Time to take your places." She gave Harry a long look of appreciation. "You clean up nice, Potter."

"I'm the one getting married today," Ron grumbled, lightly elbowing Harry, who had flushed a deep red. Harry flashed him a sheepish grin, but Ginny stepped closer. Ron bristled under her critical gaze, but she suddenly pulled him into a hard embrace, forcing him to bend downward awkwardly. All that Quidditch training was making her way too strong.

"Oi! Watch the hair!"

"You look great," she said fiercely, hiding her face in his shoulder in a way that reminded him of when she was twelve. And just like that she was pulling away with a bright smirk on her face. "Though I still think the puce looked better on you."

He scowled as she skittered out the door.

"Better be quick before Mum comes to get you!"

"Come on," Harry said, patting him on the back. "Big day."

"Yeah," Ron said, his face already starting to ache from smiling.

He took one last glance in the mirror.

He'd never looked happier in his life.

[gustafsnightangel]

Shattered Lives Ch 8 Pt 2

With court adjourned for the day she collected Lily and the twins and set out for home. It would probably be a pizza night for them all as she hadn’t even thought about food shopping this weekend. She hadn’t thought much of anything other than the man between her thighs rocking her world. The boys were tired but happy and they chattered all the way home about camping and fishing and all the fun nearly seven year olds could have.

As they lay in bed she thought now was as good a time as any to ask them.

“Hey I have a question about your birthday.” She had their full attention in a snap.

“Gustaf would like to come over for birthday pancakes but he’s flying out Sunday morning really early. Could we do birthday pancakes and all that on Saturday instead?”

“Can we still have pancakes on Sunday?” Liam asked cheekily.

“I think I can swing that.” She chuckled. They both looked at each other and something passed between them as only twins could do. She envied them in that moment, how she missed those conversations with Quinn.

“Do you like him Ama?” Finn asked and she knew that serious tone from the serious twin.

She sat on the floor and looked at them, she would never lie but there was only so much she wanted to give them right now.

“Very much.”

“Are you going to marry him? Like Mum and Dad?” His eyes looked hopeful. Or was that her imagination?

“I don’t know.” And she didn’t, she hadn’t thought of that, she was in murky waters.

“Do you like him?” She asked warily, turning the question back at them wanting to hear their answer.

They both nodded. “He’s cool and funny. Be kinda nice if he could stay with us all the time. Like a dad.”

Out of the mouthes of babes she thought.

“Like a dad. You know he can’t replace your father.” They nodded and she wrapped an arm around each of them. “No one can ever replace him.” She added and they gripped her tighter.

“If you’re not comfortable with him being like a dad he could always be like a bigger big brother. Or a guy that just gets it and cares a lot about you.”

“Like he is with Brendan?” Liam asked and she could see the wheels turning inside his head.

“Just like that.”

“Would he come to our soccer game Friday? The one after camp.” Liam asked hopefully.

“I don’t know, maybe we ask him tomorrow once we get home.” She hugged them tightly. She’d forgotten about the game after camp. “Thanks for reminding me.” She chuckled, she had to remember to leave work early Friday.

“Sleep now, busy day tomorrow.” She kissed them and tucked them in.

“Do you miss him Ama? Miss dad?” Finn’s voice was soft.

“More than I can stand Finn. I love you boys, sleep now.” She watched them settle and turned the overhead light off as she walked out of their room.

She closed their door and had to stand there and take a minute. She battled the grief down because she couldn’t go getting drunk outside her apartment or call Gustaf tonight. She needed to get a handle on her emotions for him, the kids, the grief, everything. She couldn’t dump on him every time she started to emotionally fall apart no matter how many times he said it was ok. She knew it took pieces out of him and she’d done that enough this morning.

She checked on Lily and settled at the table to go through her notes from the day. This case would hopefully be done by Thursday and she could look forward to the weekend and a birthday party.

She frowned at the knock some hours later and ignored it thinking it was from Gustaf’s apartment until the light knock came again. She got up irritated and swung the door open with some force. No one, but at her feet was a simple small bunch of white daisies and three bright yellow gerberas.

She picked them up and went back inside pulling the card from them as she set them on the counter. Three simple words to answer her text from this morning, “miss you too”, inscribed in his own handwriting. She placed them in water and sat them on the table out of reach of Lily’s chair. As she sat down to work a few more hours she smiled at his sweetness and glanced at them every so often not really believing he’d sent them.

Back into the normal grind of the work week she showered at eleven and fell into bed shortly thereafter. The sheets were cold, there was no solid man snuggling her close, those long arms wrapping around her tightly. This sucked, she thought bitterly. Stomping out of bed she pulled his shirt on roughly and climbed back in, at least the sheets and pillow smelled like him. She was out cold moments later exhausted.

His bed felt empty, lonely as he lay there on cold sheets, sheets her hands had fisted in as he’d made love to her. The pillow held her scent so he tucked it in close as if to hold her. He eventually slipped into sleep thinking of the family next door.

The day was a busy one, court, kids, and shopping because they couldn’t live off pizza all week though it was tempting and she was sure the twins wouldn’t complain. The boys were full of energy even after running around all day, Lily was grumpy, she couldn’t win them all.

“Can we go ask Gustaf?” Liam piped up, no sooner than Sildie had shoved the key in the lock.

“Shopping on the counter and yes you can go ask him.” They whooped and hurried inside.

“Remember your manners please.” She called after them as they tore out the door.

She sat the shopping on the counter and bundled the sobbing Lily to her.

“What’s up Lily bear? You miss him too huh?” Lily wrapped her arms around her neck and sobbed. “Yeah me to peanut, me too.”

There was a knock at the door which had his head snapping toward the noise. The knocking of little hands not big ones, children. He opened the door and looked down to see the twins craning their heads back to look at him.

“Hey boys what’s up?” He crouched down to their level and they both looked at each other.

“Everything ok?” His belly lurched as he glanced at her door.

“Yeah things are good.” Liam said brightly.

“Would you come to our soccer game Friday?” Finn asked quietly.

“What time?” He had to stop the grin from spreading at their slight unease. They were nervous at asking him.

“Starts at five.” Finn said. “I think.” The kid looked at his brother who shrugged.

“Let me come over real quick to make sure.” Gustaf chuckled. “Bill I’ll be thirty.” He called to his brother.

“No probs.” Bill called from the couch as he continued the game they had started on the x box.

He could hear Lily sobbing, the poor thing sounded like she was beyond it. Sildie took his breath away when he laid eyes on her. Lawyered up in her suit and heels, stunning. It fucked him up every time, more so because he knew what was under it.

“Ama is it five o’clock that the game starts?” Liam asked as he walked through the door as Sildie turned.

“Yes five. Hi.” She said quickly, seeing Gustaf at her door.

“Hi.” He said locking eyes with her and he felt his gut flip.

“So can you come?” Finn asked not able to sit still.

“I’ll certainly try, I have a lot on that day but let me see what I can finagle.” He said wiggling those long fingers and the boys happy with that answer took off to their room chattering, leaving him standing in the middle of the room.

“Sorry I didn’t mean for them to drag you over here.” Sildie said walking toward him. Why was this suddenly awkward she wondered.

“It’s fine, Lily ok?” He looked at her and stroked a finger down her cheek to wipe the tears away.

Before Sildie could answer the unexpected happened, Lily grabbed onto his finger, lunged for him and in a sob cried an unmistakeable “dad dad”. Gustaf has no choice but to take a hold of her and cradle her to him or the kid would have hit the floor. Lily continued to sob the occasional “dad dad” and curled into him as he stared at Sildie in wide eyed shock.

“I... she...” he shut his mouth with an audible snap. What the fuck did he, could he say to that?

“She’s missed you.” Sildie murmured and walked back to the kitchen to turn the kettle on, she had to slam the emotions down hard. That pang of envy, of miss-aimed anger, she should have been saying that to Quinn not Gustaf.

She had to get it reigned in. It wasn’t Gustaf’s fault, anyone’s fault. She was just as shocked but it made complete sense. He was the only adult male Lily had ever known.

His brain was all fuzzy. The kid had just called him dad and he was stunned stupid. He saw the look on Sildie face, the overwhelming grief try to surface. This was not what they needed right now. He leaned on the counter and let her keep busy with making tea. Lily was now quiet, still curled into him, holding on with a death grip.

“Sildie I’m so sorry.” He murmured.

She shook her head. “It’s fine, I should have seen it coming.” Her voice trembled and he saw the tears.

He swiped his thumb across her cheek to wipe them away, cupped her head in his free hand and pulled her into him, kissing her temple.

“It should have been him.” She choked trying to reign it in, and failed. “She should have said that to him and I’m being ridiculous. I don’t blame you, I’m not angry with you, but it should have been Quinn.” She sniffed and wiped the rest of the tears away. “And you don’t need me falling apart like this.”

“Fall apart if that’s what you need love, I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed her cheek bone and felt the tears drop. “And yes, it should have been him.” Was this the help Quinn was sending him? Help no, a sign maybe, he thought.

She rested her forehead against his and let the silent tears fall. In all honesty she wanted to do what Lily was doing but knew she couldn’t. It had caught her so off guard, slamming that grief full in her face.

She got her emotions under control eventually and composed herself. Looking at him she saw those comforting blue eyes looking back. Her slight smile broke his heart.

“Let me go home really quick and tidy up what I was in the middle of when the twins knocked on my door and I’ll be back ok?” He said softly.

“I’ll be fine.” He held her to him when she went to pull away. “I have shit to do and so do you no doubt.”

“I won’t be fine Sildie.” He brushed his fingertips down her jaw. “Give me five and I’ll be back.” He kissed her then, soft, tender, loving. “Not negotiable love.” He added when she went to argue the point, as the lawyer in her was about to do.

With Lily tucked in his arms he walked back to his apartment.

“Hey, can we do dinner tomorrow?” He asked his brother as he walked through the door.

“Sure. Hey cute kid.” Bill said looking up.

“You’re welcome to hang here I just need to help out next door for a little longer.” He said for a lack of a better explanation. He hadn’t told his family about their relationship yet other than they were friends. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“You like her if you’re looking after her kids.” Bill smirked.

“Drop it dude I’m serious, I’ll explain one day, but it’s not as cut and dry as that.” He didn’t need to have this conversation now and saw the harsh words hit his brother.

“Sorry man, it’s rough for her, for the kids. I’ll explain later.”

Bill could see Lily watching him and held onto his brother as if the kid was his own.

“Do what you gotta do. I’m always around to talk if you need to. Text me later ok and we’ll do food and that tomorrow. Prepare for your ass to be whooped.” He said pointing to the game.

“Bye Lily.” Bill said and waved a bye bye.

The kid snuggled in closer and Bill smiled. Yep, the kid had his brother wrapped around her adorable pinky. After staring at him for a while she waved a small bye bye of her own when she realized Gustaf was still holding her.

She got it together and then realized he’d taken Lily with him.

“Like she was going to let go anytime soon.” She muttered to herself.

Of all the things to come out of that kids mouth she wasn’t expecting her to call Gustaf dad. She wasn’t angry at him but she certainly felt that surge of extreme jealousy. The twins were oblivious as they walked in for a snack and went back to their rooms while Sildie started to put groceries away and make dinner.

Gustaf walked in just as the boys were sitting down to eat with a nearly asleep Lily in his arms. The kid hadn’t let him go, even when Bill had talked to her and he was the baby whisperer in the family with one of his own at six months old.

He sat on the couch and winked at Sildie to say an “it’s ok” without explanations, he had to tread carefully here with the twins in the room. He was quite happy to sit on the couch and let Lily sleep, they would talk later because he wasn’t leaving until Sildie had calmed. He saw the emotions still running into overdrive and she didn’t need that hanging over her for the rest of the week.

She place a tea beside him and reached out with a hand to squeeze his forearm. A calming touch to say she was ok and grateful for him to be here. She got the boys in the bath and sat there talking to them about Friday. They were over the moon Gustaf was going to try and be there.

“Why did Gustaf stay?” Liam asked.

“He stayed because Lily threw herself at him and won’t let him go.” She chuckled trying to keep it light. “She’s a grumpy bear today and Gustaf decided to hang around to help out.” Which was the truth, sort of.

“Is he staying the night?” Liams eyes lit up.

“I don’t think so kiddo. He probably has other things he needs to take care of.” She scoffed and flicked water at them. Truth was she’d love nothing more than for him to stay.

“Scrub the dirt off then out you get. Another busy day tomorrow and I have to read before court.” She waited until they’d scrubbed and hopped out before leaving them to dry themselves.

“PJs and bed to read.” She called walking back into the living area.

She cleared the table and stacked the dishwasher settling herself by menial chores to knock those emotions down a little further. She would not fall apart on him tonight. She needed to work and sleep to get through court tomorrow.

She tucked the boys in and they were out as soon as the door closed. Soccer had worn them out. She shut the hall door and went out to start her reading.

He heard her sit at the table, avoiding him he wondered or avoiding the inevitable falling to pieces? He stood slowly, Lily deadweight in his arms now, though he knew if he put her down she’d wail. He sat beside Sildie and moved her chair over as he stretched his legs either side of her.

“Talk to me love.” He murmured.

She shook her head and the tears fell.

“Let it out.” He whispered and kissed her temple before pulling her to him the best he could with a sleeping baby in his arms.

“Knocked the wind out of you didn’t it?” He asked softly.

She nodded as he stroked her arm trying to soothe her. He wanted to put Lily down and pull Sildie into his lap like the night he had outside her front door.

“Me too love.” His thumb grazed her cheek to wipe the tears away.

He’d give his last breath to not see her ever cry again with this heartbreak. It ripped him apart from the inside out. His fingers tangled in her bound hair and he risked a tender kiss.

“What can I do?” He kissed her again and lingered. “Please love, tell me what I need to do.” His voice betrayed him, emotions pouring out of him to comfort her, soothe her.

“You’re doing it.” Her voice was strangled like she had to push them out past the grief. “I just need this, you.”

“Do you want me to stay? I’ll stay on the couch with Lily, you can get a good night sleep.” He offered and she snorted.

“I’ll only get a good night sleep if you’re beside me.” Her voice still trembled as he kissed her softly.

“I know the feeling.” He said wryly. “I slept like crap last night.” Her soft chuckle lightened the dark cloud of grief over her head. “I had to resort to cuddling your pillow.” He wouldn’t admit that to another living soul.

“I had to wear your shirt before I could settle.” She admitted and looked at him brushing her fingers down over his scruff she kissed him.

“Thank you for the flowers.” She whispered kissing him again.

“I realized I stepped over a line yesterday.” He trailed a finger down her jaw. “I never meant to fuck with your independence. I just wanted to give you a break because it’s days like today Sildie that you need it. You can handle it on your own, sure, you have been, but why do it on your own when you don’t have to. I’d move the world not to have that soul crushing look in your eyes, but I know there’s nothing I can do, but this. Being here for you, with you, helping out wherever I can.”

Her kiss made him melt. “I need to not be as stubborn and to give a little. I’m sorry too, I can be bullheaded when it comes to certain things especially my independence. I’m set in my ways and still not used to having someone to rely on.”

“We’ll make it work.” He rested his head against hers. “Let me see if she’ll go down.” He kissed her temple and got up.

She got settled into her reading and it wasn’t until she stretched for a break she realized Gustaf was still with Lily. She went in her room to find her lanky man folded up on the floor with his arm between the rails, head resting against the crib, and Lily curled up with his hand like it was her beloved teddy bear. She smiled to herself, what a picture he was, tucked up on the floor, soothing a child that wasn’t his.

Sildie sat on the floor and he looked at her.

“Every time I move my hand she wakes up.” He said and couldn’t bring himself to move from her.

“I think she’s got big teeth coming through too she was rubbing her ear and jaw last week.” She whispered.

“It just guts me seeing her cry.” He looked up at her.

“Let her be and come out for tea. If she wakes I’ll get her, if she sleeps she sleeps.” She whispered, as he slowly pulled his hand from where Lily held him captive.

Lily shifted and he saw that little face scrunch up and a tiny fist rub her cheek before a soft sob escaped. Sildie soothed her back and placed her favorite bear under her arm where Gustaf’s hand had been. She settled and he looked up at Sildie.

“You’ve done that before.” He murmured in that low tone she loved.

Putting a finger to her lips she helped him stand. His arm came around her and he needed a moment just to hold her close. His entire evening had been turned on its ear. She took his hand gently and they walked out as quietly as possible.

As soon as she had closed the hall door he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her. The feel of her, the warmth, the scent, it stabilized him. He looked at her and smiled.

“What an evening.” He chuckled and blew a breath out.

“Never a dull moment.” She sighed and sat. Pouring the tea she fingered her notes she had yet to touch.

“You still have work?” He asked brushing his knuckles over hers as they toyed with the edges of the yellow legal pad. Her handwriting, he noticed, was elegant.

“Yeah, I need to get through it to be prepared for tomorrow.” She sighed.

“I’ll stay until you finish, if she wakes I’ll get her. Do what you need to do.” He said gently and lifted her fingers to his lips to kiss them.

“You sure? I feel like I’m dumping things on you before you’ve had a moments peace, taking you away form your own life.” She sipped her tea.

”I’ll stay. I’ll kick out on the couch, if I fall asleep just wake me up when you’re going to bed and I’ll go home.” He leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. “Get to work so you get some sleep tonight love.” He kissed her again and went to stretch out on the couch.

It was nine already and she had at least four more hours to put in. Tomorrow was a short day with just court but there would be more reading tomorrow night. It was nights like tonight she seriously contemplated his offer of having him come over and helping out when she got home on a regular basis.

True to his word he stayed on the couch and let her work. He watched her be consumed by her menial task of notes, reading them, taking more. He let himself drift as the memory of that tiny girl in the other room haunted him. Her face, her sobs, her eyes, pleading with him to comfort her, love her. He did love her.

“Wow there’s a realization.” He muttered so low Sildie wouldn’t have heard more than a sigh.

He thought of Sildies face, that look of total betrayal, why him and not her brother. That had cut her deeply and it destroyed him seeing her like that, it was out of his control but he still felt like shit for it, felt like the imposter. It was just past eleven when he heard her rise and turn the kettle on.

He got up and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the nape of her neck.

“You ok?” He asked more to assure himself she had settled.

“Yeah.” She breathed out and leaned back into him. “The rest I can take care tomorrow before court and I want to talk to my second chair beforehand.”

“You’re already exhausted love.” He murmured grasping her tighter. “You should go to bed.”

“I want a tea with you, then I’m having a shower and passing out.” She turned in his arms and leaned her forehead against his.

“Only if I can sit on the couch with you in my lap.” He said matter of factly as her head nodded in agreeance.

“I think we both need it. Thank you for staying.” Her lips ghosted his before kissing him with an apology.

He turned the kettle off before it broke into song and poured water into the teapot.

“I’m sorry for tonight.” Her voice calm now.

“It’s fine love that’s what I’m here for. That and so much more.” He kissed her and let his fingers tease the shirt from her suit pants, he needed to feel her skin.

As his touch grazed her spine he felt her relax. The entire day just melted off her.

“Better?” He murmured taking the kiss deeper.

She made some sort of an agreeable noise and let him continue. He held her to him gently stroking her spine, kissing her with tenderness, giving her what she needed to get through the rest of the night alone.

He poured the tea and they broke apart long enough to walk to the couch, sit the teacups on the coffee table, before he pulled her into his lap. He removed the heels and bundled her to him as he leaned back. She curled into him, head on his chest tucked under his chin, her long legs folded up and secured by his arm, her slender fingers on his chest at the deep V of his shirt.

“I’ve wanted to do this all day.” She sighed out and went lax in his arms.

He kissed the top of her head and breathed her in squeezing her tight to him. They both needed this he thought, the closeness, just being together.

“Me too love.” He squeezed her and sat her up slightly so they could sip their tea.

That comfortable silence descended and he felt her relax further.

“I sent you my schedule.” She said softly as her thoughts started drifting back into her head. “And the address for the soccer game, oh and Brendans hockey game if you can make it.”

He kissed her temple. “I’ll certainly try to make both games.”

“Like I said, we’ll understand if you can’t.”

“My realist will understand.” He smiled. “The kids will be devastated.”

“There will be other games.” Her fingers tapping the rim of her teacup.

“But they won’t be the first ones the kids had asked me to come to. It’s important, for me and for them.” She saw the seriousness in his eyes.

“You’re a good man Gustaf. Don’t let anyone ever tell you any different.” That statement rocked him to his core.

“Lawyer talking.” She shrugged as she saw the embarrassment she’d caused him.

“No, that’s you talking my love.” He kissed her tenderly.

“I’ll send you mine once I’ve talked to my PA tomorrow, she’s going to have a conniption.” He chuckled. “But that’s what I pay her for.”

They finished their tea and he knew he had to go. She was almost asleep in his arms.

“Go sleep love.” He murmured and kissed her head. She didn’t argue which told him she was exhausted. That emotional exhaustion that sapped every ounce of energy from her.

Standing on her threshold he kissed her tenderly.

“Inside, lock the door. I need to know your safe.” He said and watched her nod.

“Good night, and thank you.” She said softly.

“Anytime love, call if you need to ok?” He kissed her and then stepped back so she would go and sleep.

Asleep on her feet she tidied the cups and teapot and shuffled to the bedroom. Lily had thankfully stayed asleep. She showered, brushed her teeth, and rid her face of makeup.

She worried about Gustaf, his own emotional state with all that was happening. She had warned him about their emotional baggage and wondered if he was now thinking he’d bitten off more than he could swallow. Would it be long before he peaced out? Saying he was sticking was one thing but actually staying through the shitty parts was another. She wouldn’t blame him if he did.

She pulled on Gustaf’s shirt while she crawled into bed and was asleep before her head had settled on the pillow.

Gustaf shut his front door quietly and rested his head against it with a resounding thud. Would this get any easier he wondered, for them, for him. He was in the thick of it with them now, no mistake about that.

He wanted it, all of them, as a family, but getting through the grief with them was pulling on heartstrings he didn’t know he had. He knew it would get worse over the next few months, the twins birthday, Lily’s birthday, the anniversary, Sildies birthday, Christmas. It was all one big fucking mess of emotions. On the outside he would be her rock, the calm in their storm but on the inside he was bleeding, every tear that family shed sliced him a little deeper.

Lily broke him tonight. Those heart wrenching sobs still echoed in his ears. He wanted to cry with her at what she’d asked him to be to her, a child’s plea for a father.

“Shit Quinn.” He mumbled as he pulled away from the door. “You gotta fucking help me out here.” He looked to the ceiling for some divine intervention, a message, a sign, bolt of lightning, fucking anything at this point. “I’m fucking drowning.”

He stripped, pulled on the shorts and donned the gloves, he needed to burn this out of his system. He was suddenly angry at Quinn for not being here, like the dude had a fucking choice in when he and his wife died he thought bitterly. He shouldn’t be angry, had no right to be, he didn’t even know the guy. But he let that rage bubble up, let it flow out through his fists into the bag, he’d feel better for it.

It was the darker side of him he didn’t like and never wanted Sildie to see. The emotional stress that he usually kept contained in public just exploded out of him in the gym. He worked the bag until every muscle ached and begged him to stop.

He held the bag and rested his head against it panting hard.

“Just breathe.” He reminded himself.

He closed his eyes and let the tears fall, tears he’d never let her see. Still holding onto the bag he fell to his knees and sobbed. He was drowning and Lily’s plea had pulled him under.

He let it out, let the heartache rip him open, lay him bare. He’d have to get used to her calling him that, she wouldn’t stop and he knew it, something he hadn’t thought about but should have. The boys were old enough to know the difference, Lily wasn’t. Sildie was right, he was the only older male she’d ever known.

His breathing came back down to normal and the tears slowed. He stripped again and stood under the heat of the shower and let it all wash away. He was emotionally drained and suddenly extremely tired.

Collapsing into bed and stared at the ceiling. Eventually he drifted into a restless sleep with Lilys plea haunting him.

[horrorkingdom]

The Haunted Game Boy Camera

“I’ll never ask for anything else again, I swear, Mom!”

As kids, we’ve all said it at one point. We find something that seems the most amazing item in the world and we just have to have it, no matter what. For me, it was the newest handheld, a Game Boy Color. It was the most beautiful thing to a six year old, especially when all my friends were getting theirs. Growing up with four brothers and sisters and not especially well off, my parents did their best, but we struggled to get by most of the time. They did their best to give us comforts and toys, but new electronics were out of the question. Hell, we were still working off an old television that still used rabbit ears. I was the youngest of the five of us, so that meant a lot of hand me downs as well. I was used to it, but still held some resentment to my siblings and of course, still begged for the Game Boy Color. They said they would do their best, bless their hearts.

Shortly after my birthday, my mom and dad presented me with a box. I was surprised, but they said they had found something they knew I wanted very badly and I had been good. My heart raced with excitement as I tore into the box, but sank into the pit of my stomach. It was not a Game Boy Color. This poor excuse for a handheld was a badly abused original Game Boy. It looked like it had been bitten and melted by something in the corners, as well as stained. Up on top, a strange camera stuck out of the cartridge inserted inside. When I picked it up, it read Game Boy Camera. They’d somehow managed to find it with the crappy little printer as well, complete with fading printer paper.

“You see? Daddy and I found it at a garage sale, it’s exactly the kind you wanted. It even has a cool little camera to take pictures!” They said, far more excited than I was.

I’m not sure if it was the fact that this was the first thing that had ever been given to me first and it still was someone’s used piece of junk, or that they had no actual idea what I had wanted, or maybe they had and just decided it was too much so a replacement would suffice and I’d never know the difference, but in my utter disappointment, I threw the worst tantrum I’d had since I was a toddler. I tossed the box on the ground and cried my eyes out, screaming how they were awful and I didn’t want this and I wanted my Game Boy Color. Well, you can imagine how that turned out. I got a good whooping from my father in front of all my siblings and a long lecture on gratefulness and how hard they work. In punishment for my selfishness, they gave my gift to my brother Ryan, only a couple years older than me. I was so angry, I didn’t care though and was happy to be rid of the thing. Ryan, being the jerk he was, teased me about it endlessly.

It was a few days after that that he figured out the camera and printing on it. He would tease me from his room, talk about how he got to play with the cool system and I was too little and bratty to ever touch it. I would either yell back at him or slam the door to my room and ignore it. Shortly after though, I heard him leave his room and call out to our mom, claiming the printer was acting weird. She was busy making lunch and told him it was probably due to being used, and to keep trying and see if it would fix itself. I heard him go back into his room, then go back out a little while later, saying it was probably busted and that he was going to go to his friend’s house.

Wondering what was wrong with it, I snuck into his room and found the papers lying on his bed. He’d taken photos of himself, making weird faces into the camera. The game system had been turned off, as expected. The first few pictures were normal, then they changed into those strange faces that everyone knew about. The way the printer paper was stained, they looked even weirder. As I looked down at the later pictures though, they looked…different.

Obviously, the camera in the game was not the greatest, so it was sometimes hard to see details of someone’s face or it would look blocky or blurry. The later pictures however…seemed to change. It wasn’t just scribbles or silly words written on his face. His features seemed to change, and there were dark spots around his eyes and mouth. His expression didn’t look goofy anymore; instead it looked scared. Each picture seemed to change it more and more. Eventually, the pictures changed to where it didn’t even look like he was holding the camera anymore, but that…someone was taking the picture of him. He got farther and farther away and what seemed to be a horrible story unfolded. It was showing Ryan running from the camera. The last picture was showing Ryan’s face half missing, dark pixels spilled out from the side of his head, and lying on the ground.

I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t even know the little camera was capable of things like this. It frightened me immensely and I jumped from the bed and ran to my mom, telling her about the pictures. She didn’t believe me and got angry I was playing with it after my behavior. She scolded me and sent me back to my room. I was too nervous to be angry though. I wondered what was wrong with that Game Boy. Why did it print those pictures?

I was immensely relieved when Ryan came back home that night for dinner. He seemed fine and after that night, I convinced myself it must have been a problem with the system since it was so beaten up, some kind of error. At some point later in the week, Ryan tried again to take pictures. I heard him call it a piece of junk and then chuck it into a drawer. He threw all the pictures he had taken in the trash can.

I didn’t think much of the Game Boy and the camera until the week after. I had been coloring in my room when I heard a terrible scream from outside and the sound of brakes squealing to a stop. Immediately, we all jumped up and ran outside to find out what had happened, along with our neighbors. The sight that greeted us all still is burned into my memory.

Ryan had gone to walk across the street to his friend’s house, just as he would any other day. A man had come speeding down the street and hit him. He’d been pulled under the car and his head half crushed under the tires as the man hit the breaks. My older brother’s brain and skull were splattered under, a pool of blood soaking into the street. I still remember the cry of agony and horror my mother let out, and the rage and grief in my father’s eyes as he pulled the man from the car and shouted at him, asking him what in the hell he had been doing to hit a child. My sisters pulled me back inside, trying to comfort me and shield me from the sight, but the damage was done. I’d seen exactly what the picture had showed me and I knew that Game Boy had been the cause. In my naivete, I tried to tell them, hoping they would believe me. They didn’t believe me at all and it made one of my sisters fall apart.

The next few weeks were miserable. My parents were inconsolable and my mother could barely take care of the house and us. My eldest sister Andrea took over her role and struggled with it, angry with us and dealing with her own grief. She also took over cleaning out Ryan’s side of the room that he shared with my other brother. At some point, she found the Game Boy and the Game Boy Camera and asked if I wanted it. I told her it was cursed, that it had killed Ryan. She said that I was being cruel to our parents by turning their gift that was meant for me into a guilt trip and that I needed to stop being so selfish. The funeral for Ryan caused even more money stress on the family and slowly, even at the young age I was, I could see they were not able to handle any of it well. I did my best at that point to keep out of trouble and didn’t say anything more about the Game Boy Camera.

I don’t know when she took them, but at some point, I guess she’d needed a distraction from trying to hold up the house. I went into my sisters’ room to find a missing sock and thought maybe it had landed into their clothing. Her trashcan had the same printer paper in it. An ice cold sweat came over my body when I realized. I couldn’t stop myself. I reached in and looked at the pictures. They were the same. Andrea’s face was slowly transformed into looks of horror and fear before showing her in a grotesque and terrifying position that I could only assume was a clue to how she would die. In the ending pictures, her face was barely recognizable and her skin was black.

I was definitely sure now. This thing had to be destroyed. I thought to myself that maybe if I could destroy it, I could save my sister from the same fate. I tore her room apart searching for the Game Boy. Eventually, I found it and the printer. As I held it in my hand, something chilling happened.

It turned on.

The screen flashed the logo before it began to make noises and music. The sound was wrong, as though it were being played backwards. I had been looking straight at it and suddenly, my face appeared on the screen. It began to print. In my panicked state, I went to shut it off, but found the button was down already. It should not have been running. I then proceeded to rip the printer paper out and the game out of the system. The Game Boy began to spark and error while the printer spewed out ink all over my Andrea’s bed. I felt it heat up in my hands and dropped it, watching the screen begin to smoke and the sparks fly out from both the Game Boy and the printer. After a minute or two, it seemed to die.

Needless to say, I got in major trouble when my sister came home and found her bed sheets stained with ink and the system broken. My parents were furious and forbid me from going out with friends at all, as well as no tv. I was now considered very irresponsible and not allowed to touch any of my siblings’ things. It didn’t matter though. I had saved her from a horrible fate and the cursed system was gone.

Or so I thought.

I think back and realize that of everything I did, the thing that may have saved me was not letting the printer finish. Six months later, my sister was killed when she was driving home and slipped on something in the road, crashing her car and being trapped inside as it caught fire. When the police came to my parents, they had told them that she was burned beyond recognition and the only reason they knew it was her was because she was driving my dad’s car. I couldn’t save her. I didn’t dare tell my parents about the pictures. I don’t think they would have believed me anyway.

Years have passed and we’ve grown up. My parents never really recovered from Ryan and Andrea’s deaths and they have struggled immensely. The three of us take care of them now, though we still have the old rabbit ears television for comfort’s sake.

There’s still one thought that haunts me though and makes it hard to sleep at night.

I never found out what they did with the broken Game Boy, the camera and printer. I pray to God every night that the damned thing made its way into some kind of trash compactor or is tangled with the plastic floating in the ocean. I fear that they still wanted it to have use, and donated it, or sold it for parts. And someone, somewhere is repairing it and putting in new paper. And they will see what it was trying to print of me.

Credit: AMD

[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness Overload Chapter Fifty-Three

That vile man stood hunched over, then laughed up a storm before once again standing up straight.

“What a bold declaration, but from you, it rings hollow. You don’t truly believe anyone is innocent, do you, Etna?”

“What?! You really are Miss CEO?! I thought you were Versailles!”

I turned my head to the side. “I would rather die than become a CEO. There are some evils that I won’t stoop to.”

“Indeed, miss Juniper. Your friend here died to become the entity known as Dr. Etna. So did you.” He laughed again. “And now that the two of you are here once more, Dr. Etna can be born anew! Hopefully this time, she’ll be more obedient.”

“Funny. This is my first time seeing you,” I ignored his own threatening declarations.

“Even if you didn’t count the multiple versions of you that I’ve crossed paths with, that simply isn’t true.”

“I’m sorry, you don’t ring any bells.”

“Not surprising,” he chuckled. “Your lapses in memory, after all. Not to mention that you only ever encountered me once throughout each incarnation. I was never a part of the ETNA project; I was only an observer. I belonged to the Militia Department, a group which oversaw each war throughout history. Rather rotten work, though, wouldn’t you agree? The Militia Department was pretty much the Department of War, but then we also have a Peace Department. This whole company is a floating contradiction!”

“Ah, but the thing I love most about here is the fact that you can see entire lifetimes pass with little time at all passing here. I observed the ETNA project in its very beginning. Quite a fascinating thing, but just as you must have heard, an utter failure. None of the children could handle the power of the angel. As for your father,” his lips spread to a wider smile, his voice grew more raspy. “When he was ordered to include his own daughter into the project, he did not refuse. But rather than dispose of you in the end like all the other failed experiments, he took you and ran off. He tried to change his identity.”

I shook. He must have been trying to rile me up, in order for me to lower my guard. I had to look past his words, not let them stick to me.

“Look at you!” He spread his arms out. “How much you’ve grown! He created his own device to travel through time under the guise that it was the first. He failed to realize that he never did send in his resignation letter! He was Flashbulb property, just like the device he created was, and just like you are!”

“Enough!” I shouted. “None of that matters to me anymore!”

He shrugged. “Oh, I know. I was just reminiscing. As for when we met proper, you were young, but just a few years into adulthood. We had captured you, but you managed to escape once again. It must have been over a dozen times that we enacted our fleeting encounter, but it never gets old to me. Rather, it’s like rehearsing for a play. Each time, I get to deliver my line with just a little more passion. I, Dr. Lamington, and you, the girl who would forsake every identity if it meant getting to live another day.”

He walked over to me, slow strides. I stood froze, even in my more loathsome state, I was the one horrified. The memory resurfaced.

“Ah, those eyes. Is it time to repeat my timeless line?”

He extended his arm to his side and the metal rod flew back to him.

“Electromagnetism?!” Juniper was in awe.

“Magnets, or magic? Miracles, really. I admit, I don’t know how it works, myself.”

“I remember,” I found myself speak up.

“Tell me, how many identities will you cast aside in order to keep this up?”

“I’ll forsake every part of me if I have to if it means I can stay alive,” I followed up, the words passionless. As if recited from a script.

“Bravo!”

“Verse! Watch out!” Her voice came into my head.

I saw the swing of the metal rod and caught it in my left hand. Steam seeped out from my palm and bent the rod; it snapped in his hand, and once again, I yanked it away. Then, I swiped at his cheek with my other hand. Blood trickled down from the claw marks on his cheek, and he held his hand over the wound, but rather than cry out in pain, he laughed.

“Look at you! How much you’ve grown! You really did cast everything aside, even yourself!”

“Yes,” I gave a short nod. “I threw so much away in order to protect myself. Now, I no longer care about keeping myself alive, so long as I can protect another.”

“Again! Another bold declaration! How wonderful! How noble of you!”

“You can’t be serious, can you? You need to live!” Juniper cried out from behind you.

I shook my head. “No. You need to live. I may wither here, but I will not allow you to be harmed. Go now. Leave this room.”

I saw her get up and run out the door from the corner of my eye. He did not prevent her escape. He remained fixated on me.

“Whether it’s her, both of you, or just you, it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right: it doesn’t matter. Because you won’t get the chance to take either of us.”

“How can you hold yourself to that when you’re withering away?”

It was true: my body was growing weaker even as the part of me which held the entity persisted. I wasn’t like Blanc; I wasn’t meant to hold this all in.

“I’ll tear you limb from limb before I disappear completely,” I assured him. He laughed at that remark.

“Yes, you’ve become quite bloodthirsty in your transformed state.”

“You have no idea,” my lips spread to form a smile, the fangs of my teeth stuck out and blood dripped down from my mouth. I wiped my mouth, then I pounced on him. He had little time to react; he tried to grab the metal rod, but I tore his hand right off. “Aah!” He yelped, but his reaction was rather short, and he went right back to hysterics. “That’s right! I heard how you made quick of our top mercenaries! I see now! But even with them gone, we could just hire more and more! Even in the state you’re in, you would always be pursued!”

I sliced his other hand clean off. I let out a sigh of pleasure.

“That’s why I came here,” I crooned. “So I could be the pursuer instead.”

I began to laugh. “Didn’t I make good on my word?”

Rather than show any hint of being in pain, he continued to smile as well. “That you did. But you still made a mistake.”

“Oh?”

“I never needed my hands. I just needed to keep you still.”

I got up off of him, fear rose in me as I backed away. He too got up.

He bumped into the generator, and to the side, I noticed a button. Above me, a machine with a needle-like funnel with a laser attached descended and was aimed right at me.

“All I need to do is give the order and your life will vanish! To think, you came right to me, and once again, fell to the same fate! It’s so wonderful! Don’t worry, though! Your life will start anew, as Dr. Etna once more, and this time I will make sure –”

“You talk too much,” I heard the voice of someone behind him say.

He fell over.

I watched as the one who stood behind him was none other than Juniper.

“I thought I told you to leave!” I cried out.

“Yeah, I did. But I could still hear everything from outside. It wasn’t like I could just leave you with that guy.”

“You shouldn’t be here!” I shouted. “You should be somewhere safe!”

“Oh, sure. That’s the thanks I get for saving your life.”

“Why?” I looked away. I didn’t want to face her looking the way I did.

“I told you already, didn’t I? People care about you. You shouldn’t do something so stupid like throw yourself away. I don’t care what you look like, you’re still the same person,” then I heard her whisper. “In fact, that monster form is kind of hot…”

Birds of a feather.

“Thank you,” I muttered.

“No problem! Anyway, I’m gonna go. This room isn’t all that interesting to me.”

I looked at her as she left. “Stay safe, okay?”

“I get it,” she said before we parted ways. “You’ve got some weird crush on me, but look, you’re a married woman, and you gotta respect that.”

What?!

I looked down and smiled. Even as the way I was, I couldn’t help but nod along. “Yeah. You’re right.”

As she left, I looked over to the unconscious Dr. Lamington. I had little strength in me, but I already found myself reverting to a more human appearance. I dragged his body against the wall and conjured up some rope, then tied him up.

I sat in the corner of the room and waited for him to wake up. He loved a good show, so I would allow him to remain alive, as an audience.

“I’m sorry, Velvet,” I shook my head and smiled. “I’m going to do just what I intended to. Even after meeting up with you and the others, I’m still going to go through with it.” I shook my head again. “I really wanted to protect you all, but I’m going to have to lower that shield now that I am alone once again.”

Maybe I too loved to run my mouth. Or maybe it was just the state I was in. The delirium. The anxiety of what I would soon carry out.

Dr. Lamington woke up not a moment later. His affable and cordial act was replaced by a panic at his situation.

“You’re still here?”

“Ah, you’re finally awake.”

“Untie me! You’re better than this!”

“I have nothing but contempt for you all. For years, I wished for nothing more but to kill every last person who wronged me. But I never quite did that. So you’re right. Even as for the ones I did kill, it was either in an altered state, or accidental.”

“Do you think that absolves you of your actions?” He cried out. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to psych me out.

“On the contrary,” I got up. “You wanted to see Etna, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

I pulled out a USB drive. “I must warn you: I’m not very good with computers.”

“Whatever you’re about to do, please reconsider!”

“Hmm...no.”

“I can tell you what happened to your father!” He grew desperate.

“You can, can you?”

“Yes!”

“That’s too bad. I’m no longer interested in such a thing.”

He begged and pleaded, but the words were drowned out. It took a few tries, but I got it in. Then, I turned on the computer. In an instant, the monitor lit up. I dragged the cursor over to the program on the drive, then clicked.

What a pitiful state I was in. To think it was no illusion, but instead an insult added to injury. We were in my laboratory, far into the labyrinth underneath the city. All of which was in ruin, as was I.

It would take a good deal of time for me to recover. In the meantime, she sat on the floor, while I, connected to wires, waiting to be fully recharged.

“What did you mean when you said ‘let’s work together’?” I asked.

“You of all people shouldn’t be wondering such a thing.”

How wonderful. Her voice was so devoid of emotion. I wanted to weep tears of joy upon seeing her driven so low by despair, but I could do no such thing in my weakened state.

“You believe you can make a deal with me.” Make no mistake; that wasn’t a question. That was a statement.

“Neither of us are satisfied with our current situations,” she replied. The whole time, she never looked my way. Not that I could blame her. She already told me she despised me, as she should.

“To make a deal with me is to make a deal with the devil.”

“I know. But as I said, there may be no place of comfort for me. I’m finding that I am the same devil as you.”

The last time I saw her, she was in denial of such a thing. I think I preferred it that way. Any other time, I would revel in her despair, but at the moment, I was dealing with my own hopelessness. To think that mad half-Beige could drive me to such a state, besting me at my own game, with half the wit. It disgusted me.

“Since when did you wear your hair braided?”

She didn’t turn to me. “It was something I thought would make me happy. But not even an angel’s blood can bring me joy.”

“I see. It looks ridiculous.”

“I didn’t ask.”

Even if I couldn’t fully enjoy it, I wanted to crush that faint bit of hope that I sensed she still possessed.

“I want to meet up with someone. I think you already knew who.”

“Yes. The brat who made you who you are.”

“If you never meddled with this world, they never would have been the way they are.”

“That’s only true for a previous incarnation of me. The one of this world died not long ago.”

“Pity. I would have liked to have met them.”

“They died in Area 51, in fact, trying to save a friend. Pathetic, isn’t it?”

“Indeed. Saving someone you care about often results in the death of another.”

Unfazed. I couldn’t believe it.

“Would you like to know what became of the Juniper and Trent of this world?”

“Only so much as to know whether or not they ever met a version of me.”

“They didn’t. The ‘you’ of this world grew to be old, with a normal life, and died in her 60s.”

“Good for her.”

“As for those two, they also died. Trent worked himself to death attending to too many patients, and Juniper was crushed under her many inventions. Both related to the pandemic, in some way or another.” That was a lie. They were still alive, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Maybe it’s better that way. This world is dying. I think it would be less painful for them to die sooner rather than later.

“She was a deadbeat and he lacked ambition.”

“That doesn’t matter to me. I still cared about them and they cared about me. I just didn’t deserve it.”

“Indeed, you didn’t.”

She scoffed. “You sound like my mother.”

“If anything, you would be my mother, since I was made in your image.”

She made gagging noises. “That’s the most disturbing thing you said.”

Out of all the things. Such a simple joke.

“The reason it won’t work is because I’ve already brought myself into despair. You’re just upset because you didn’t get to take credit,” she added.

That struck me. It shouldn’t have, but it did.

“Tell me what your proposal is already.”

“I want to be rid of this. To be human again.”

I laughed my robotic laugh. Ha. Ha. Ha.

“Do you believe that I can do that for you?”

“I figured you were the only one I could turn to.”

“You are correct. I can remove it from you. In turn, it would be absorbed into me.”

“So you would become more powerful. Win-win.”

“Yes. But there is something else I would like you to do.”

“What?”

“I want you to take this,” I reached my arm out. She walked over and took it.

“A flash drive?”

“Call it what you want. It stores a copy of me within it.”

“What do you want me to do with this?”

“The Flashbulb has excluded me from returning to their headquarters. I want you to go there and upload the copy of me to one of their terminals. Once this planet is no more, I too will disappear, but I do not wish to die here.”

“I want nothing more to do with that place.”

“I understand that, which is why I think you will be pleased to know that once I am present there, I will kill every last inhabitant and reduce The Flashbulb to ashes. Of course, you will be spared, and free to leave.”

“Do what you want. My hatred for that organization runs deep.”

“Yes, and I always wanted to experience firsthand what vengeance feels like.”

“I’ll do it. I don’t care for anything else anymore expect being human again.”

She began to walk away. I would leave her to her own devices, but first, I had to warn her.

“If you try anything, I will know.” I didn’t even know if my threat reached her, but I couldn’t allow myself to not have power over someone.

She shook her head. “I don’t even know what I would try.”

I watched as she disappeared. All the best, my strength was returning to me. I too, had to be off, to attend to my other toy back in Nevada. Her struggle would be quite the delight.

I backed away from the computer terminal. Soon, she appeared in front of me, as if I was looking into a mirror.

“What have you done?!” He shouted. “She’s a monster with no respect for humanity! I wanted to create a new version who was more obedient! This one enjoys the suffering of others! She could never be good for humanity!”

Dr. Etna looked to her side where Dr. Lamington was.

“You talk too much,” her hollow and mechanical voice carried more menace than I thought she was capable.

That’s the same thing Juniper said to him. To think that this being’s personality could be a combination of both of us when she’s much more cruel than either of us. I know I made a mistake, but maybe I could at least persuade her to not kill Velvet and the others.

Shadowed limbs, much like thorny vines or tentacles, shot from out of her palm and tore through Dr. Lamington. I tried to look away, but even doing so, his screams rang through my ears and pierced through my mind. In an instant, he had become no more, and in his place was a mangled mess with blood and chunks of flesh stuck to the floor and walls.

His sick laughter paled in comparison to hers. Low and husky, she turned to me and crooned.

“It seems he caused you some trouble,” it sounded like she was toying with me. “Funny. It was no trouble at all for me.”

“Doctor,” was all I could manage to say. Where had my confidence gone?

“Professor,” she corrected. “I always preferred that title, myself.”

She moved about the room and I watched as she took note of her surroundings.

“I would have preferred if I had returned to my laboratory, but this will suffice,” it seemed like she had forgotten I was still in the room, until she made her way back to me. “Not to worry, dear, I have not forgotten our deal.”

I shuddered, but I regained composure. What did I have to fear? She was me, and I, her.

“I just have one more request before you strip me of my power.”

“’Strip you’? My, I didn’t think you brought me here just for that,” she teased.

“Shut it,” I growled. “I came here with a group of people. All I ask is that you bring no harm to them.”

“Oh my. Don’t get greedy, now.”

I took a step back. Even though I had made such a mistake, I didn’t want Velvet or the others to suffer for it. Especially not Juniper…

“Relax. I am nothing if not merciful. Let me see…” She held up her hand and began counting on her fingers. “That second-rate hacker, two living mistakes, and your distant bride. Four in total. Five, if counting you, but counting you feels a little redundant.”

“How do you know who I came with?” Could she read my thoughts? No. I didn’t see how. I may have sunk so low as to work with her, but she did not possess me.

“I watched you back on Earth before you left. Funny that you would still choose to fulfill our deal even considering who you chose to bring along. You must really be that desperate that you don’t care who dies if it means you can be rid of your ‘gift’.”

“It’s not like that! I just thought –”

“That I would obey your every whim? That I could play the role of your maid servant? Should I call you Madame?” She gave a short and false sounding laugh. “The way your mind works sure is something.”

“Just hurry up and take this from me. I’m afraid of myself and everything around me. I understand now that no matter what I try, I will never experience true happiness.”

She pushed her glasses up, then closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Dearie me, I may find myself a little sympathetic toward you. Your naivete is astounding. Try to think of the implications of your request. Do you really wish to proceed with this?”

I couldn’t tell whether she was being sincere or not. It all sounded like a great, big tease, which was all too typical of her. Why would she want to warn me of anything?

“Of course! More than anything! I wish to end this life as a demon!”

She scowled. “I think I preferred when you acted more devilish. You may find yourself eating such words.”

“I don’t care what you say! Just let me end this life so I can feel human again!”

“Very well,” she sighed. I closed my eyes and waited. I expected to feel something different, a change, but instead, I felt nothing.

I opened my eyes.

“Nothing happened,” I told her. Then it hit me.

My insides felt like they were twisting up, my head felt as if it had grown ten times heavier, and my legs gave out. I fell to the floor. The whole room around me turned to an oppressive feeling and while I clutched my stomach, it was as if gravity had increased and weighed exclusively on me.

“What...did you do to me?” I gasped out the words.

“I did exactly as you requested. You have no one but yourself to blame for this.”

Tears began to form from underneath my eyelids as I felt as if my face itself contorted. But no, that couldn’t be it. Something stirred in me. It was as if I was being cut open in every direction, an invisible force stabbing into me, causing ceaseless pain. I cried out, but I couldn’t even tell if I had made a sound. The weight continued to pull me down.

“What is happening to me?” I shouted, the tears pushed their way out and I couldn’t stop them. It was much more than a trickle, it was like an endless barrage of hail. “I never wanted to feel this way!”

“I know,” I heard her speak. I couldn’t even see very well anymore. My glasses fell off my face, having gotten fogged up anyway. My face was against the floor, and in my mind, I begged and pleaded for it all to end. It was all. Too. Much. “I even tried to warn you against it. Albeit, last minute, but still. I gave you the option to back out.”

“Am I dying?” I struggled to get the words out. Spoken through sobs, my voice drowned out.

“No. You only feel like you are.”

“WHY?!” I shouted through the tears, my voice grown hoarse. Weak. Like a child. I didn’t even know who I was anymore, or who I was becoming.

“You’re experiencing for the first time what it would have been like had you not been born with Euphoria in you. She really is a guardian angel, you know.” It sounded like she was so far away, and musing to herself only, but I could tell she was still next to me. “You weren’t a failed experiment. Rather, it was because of her influence that you were able to get as far as you were.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“Your anger and passion when you were younger. You felt that way because it made you happy to feel so strong and defend yourself. When you were being pursued, you were always able to evade or escape capture, not because of your inherent abilities, but because being free would have made you happier. Living to fight, that brought you considerable joy. Though you may have thought yourself aloof, you were elated to be free.”

“But my father! The way my mother treated me! The fact that I was pursued in the first place! Losing my childhood girlfriend! Knowing that I would be doomed to become you! Losing my wife! Feeling like I could never be at peace! How can you say that I’ve always lived my life with this thing being a part of me when so much has gone wrong in my life?”

“That’s the thing, isn’t it? You got more of what you wanted than you realize: you must have thought at some point ‘I wish he would disappear’. That angel couldn’t dictate how your parents would treat you, but you were able to break free of your mother not long after your father disappeared. You wanted something to fight for, and thus, an enemy appeared. You broke free from Anais because you felt you would have a higher chance of survival if you were alone.”

“The only reason I exist is because at one point you were manipulated into believing the pros of my existence would outweigh the cons. You don’t remember this because it never happened to you that way, but it only took once for me to be born. After that, all your pursuers had to do was tell you that your fate to become me was inevitable.”

She went on, as if obligated to answer my every question.

“The fact that you found someone in the first place is because you desired security. You even said so, yourself. But that doesn’t mean you never loved her. Rather, you always desired a calming presence, a place to call home. Many people do. You are not unique in that regard. If by ‘losing her’ you’re referring to both of you dying to become me, again, you were manipulated and it only took once for the cycle to fall into place. I admit, my existence is a perversion. You shouldn’t consider me either of you two, nor a combination. I am the way I am because of the intentions in which I was created, after which, I developed into who I am now. You could say I am closer to that of that man I disposed of, or the overseers of the ETNA project.”

“In truth, I despise those who are like me. I prefer to drive people to the brink of despair, then have them reach the conclusion to live out their lives because there is no other option. Watching as they fall into a routine and accept their miserable existences because they’ve reached such a low point. That is delicious. But to see someone like me, that disgusts me. I admit, it was amusing to watch you think you were anything like me, but it grew tiresome.”

I shook. Fear? Dread? No. Something greater.

“Or, if by ‘losing her’, you mean only recently, after receiving the power that you thought you so desired, that was your choice. Knowing her, she would have stayed by your side, had you let her. To your last point, you could have always been at peace, had you known what would have truly made you happy.”

The tears continued to escape from within me. They wouldn’t stop. It was all so heavy, and brought with it so much pain.

“But I hurt her! I hurt so many people! I’ve done cruel things! I also manipulated others! I…” I huffed, my breaths felt like they were leaving from me as well. I didn’t deserve to breathe. I knew it already. “I took the form of a demon! I never felt like I could be happy!”

She sighed. “I never said the things you wanted were things that were right for you. Your appearance altered the way you did, because you already felt that about yourself. Your physical state was just reflecting how you thought you should be. Not just because you thought worse of yourself than you truly were, but because you desired to express yourself more freely. For years, you thought it was best for yourself to repress your emotions, to subdue them. Because you thought that doing so would be best for your overall happiness. I could tell that when we spoke upon your initial transformation that you would become more unstable. Why, you may ask? Because you were beginning to experience a wider range of emotions than just anger and it confused you.”

“I wish I could have known! I wish I didn’t have to learn this way! I didn’t want to go through all that!”

“I know. But it is too late to make wishes and expect them to be granted. The angel is gone from you now and what you are feeling is all the pain you kept down. Years and years of emotions you would have felt had you allowed yourself. Not to say I blame you, given everything you had to endure, the conclusion you came to was only natural. So many people have felt the same under less circumstances. ‘If I could only turn my emotions off’. Well, aren’t you a lucky girl? Now that that filter is gone, it’s all coming out at once.”

I slammed my fists against the floor, but I felt like my hands would fall off. It was too much, I was falling apart. I was normal, I was human, but I never got to experience these things before and it fucking hurt. The worst part of all of it was, as cruel as she was, as much of a propensity she had to lie, this time, I knew she was telling the truth.

It’s always been so wrong. Everything. My very existence. I should have never wanted any of those things. I was afraid. Much of my life. Afraid of my parents, afraid of my peers, afraid of society. So I tried to fight back. I lashed out at others. I was so afraid of becoming powerless, of being enslaved to something beyond my control. So I propped myself up. Tried to stand as tall as I was. But I was always stumbling, often hunched down. It was often too much to bear, and I held it in anyway.

All that grief. I held it in all so I could continue on. Did I deserve to continue on? Did I deserve to live in a world where I felt like I had to hurt others to protect myself? Or to protect them? Did they deserve any of that?

For so long I thought that the reason I held my emotions back was because deep down, I was someone who got off on the pain of others. But that wasn’t it. I myself was in pain, and in turn, I thought the world should have been as well. That wasn’t right, either. Because in truth, I only wanted my life to be full of peace. A life full of love. Instead, I thought I could settle on security. But I was always insecure, even then.

Even now. I cannot stop myself from letting it out anymore. I don’t want to. But I deserve to, don’t I? To feel the full force of the pain throughout my life. I deserve to die along with my emotions.

“Please…” My voice hoarse, a near croak. “Kill me.”

“Normally, I would oblige, but I prefer it this way.”

Right. That was how she was. To watch me suffer. That was what brought her joy.

“How can I live with all that I’ve done? I brought you with me! It all hurts! I don’t deserve to live!”

“That’s not for me to say. Stay here and die, if that’s what you want. But the two of us are no longer one.”

“I feel so weak,” my words couldn’t even register as a whisper. They were so hoarse and broken.

“Yes. That’s how you have always been: Not a killer, not a demon, not someone so cruel. Just a weak, scared, little girl.”

“...Please…” I reached beside me. I reached out. “Let me feel you one last time.”

“Very well. After, I leave you so I may slaughter every living soul in this headquarters. You made a mistake bringing me here. I hope you know that.”

Even still, she extended her hand. I was so blinded, so weakened. But just to experience her in her physical form. I took her hand, picked myself up, then sent her my goodbye.

By driving the metal rod through her chest.

“You...made a mistake...by taking on a physical form.”

I could see a little more clear. Red. Blood running down her lab coat. I wondered if that too, was artificial. Rather than be in any kind of shock, she spoke with her same monotone.

“Right through the heart. I didn’t even know I had such a thing.”

My balance was off. I took a couple steps away, then fell back once more. I knew it. I was too weak to even stand.

“I’m proud of you. You finally managed to face your demon.”

I looked up. It was so unclear, but I knew nothing would have fixed that. I was in far too broken a state. If I were to shatter into pieces, it would come as no surprise to me.

But what I saw was not a corpse fall. Make no mistake; she had died. That copy, anyway. But she was always artificial. So it only made sense that she would simply disappear, rather than leave behind a body.

Her death was no illusion, either. There was no one else in her place. The drive that had been in the computer had also disappeared. Not because it was an illusion, but because it seemed to only exist as a part of her.

How I knew this? I didn’t. But it was the most comfort I could take. Because I didn’t want to think that I had truly unleashed her upon others. Because in this room, I was alone. Lonely. But I didn’t think I should have felt any other way. Everything hurt. To simply exist was a painful experience. I didn’t know what to expect, because it was the first time in my life that I was fully human.

If I didn’t get up and move, there was the risk of being found and killed or captured. But I couldn’t find the will. All I could do was lay there and sob.

I was free. I was unhappy.

[prince-claremont-diaz]

Whatever We Become

Summary: In Lucas’ final year of high school before he has to face the real world, he comes across the new identical twins, Eliott and Leo. Needless to say, Lucas falls head over heels for both of them. 

Or The twin au absolutely no one asked for

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

Ao3 version

Oh shit I’m still alive

Chapter Nineteen: Try for you

"Lucas? Are you coming?" The next morning, Manon was standing in the doorway of Lucas' bedroom, bag slung over her shoulder while Lucas was bent over his desk writing something on a slip of scrap paper. 

He nodded, placing the paper carefully on the bed beside an Eliott-sized lump under the covers. "I'll meet you downstairs in a minute. Just wait outside for me," he said over his shoulder, only now starting to pack his homework into his backpack.

Manon gave him a thumbs up and then turned, shutting the door behind her. He heard the door to the flat shutting not long after. Lucas was about to open his bedroom door, bag already over his shoulders when he heard a rustling under the covers and Eliott rolled over on his side, facing him. He looked up at Lucas from his place in the bed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and dark circles prominent under his normally bright eyes.

"What are you doing? Don't you have school today?" he asked, voice coming out hoarse and strained from relative silence for the last few days. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, setting up on his elbows.

Lucas flapped his hand vaguely, shrugging. "I was about to," he said, lifting one of the straps, "But I can stay if you like? Lisa doesn't have work until later today, so she'll be here, but I don't mi—" 

"I don't need to be babied, Lucas. You don't need to constantly watch over me like I'm about to break," Eliott retorted, voice harsh and jarring, making Lucas stumble back a step in surprise. His heart hammered in his chest on instinct, grip tightening on his bag. He opened his mouth to reply, but Eliott beat him once again, sitting up. "I can stay here by myself, I'm used to it. You don't have to be so fucking overbearing like everybody else!" 

"Eliott, I was leav—" 

Eliott slapped his hand on the bed, startling Lucas back yet another step, eyes going wide as saucers. "Just go, Lucas!" he demanded, face red with anger. He glanced at the paper on the bed beside him and grabbed it in a fist. "And take the stupid note and fuck off!" He tore the paper in half, chucking it in Lucas' direction and then turning over again, throwing the covers over his head.

Lucas stepped heavily over to the bed and picked up the torn paper in shaking hands, a teardrop dripping onto the hardwood. "I-I'll see you later," he mumbled, sniffling as he shoved the ripped note in his back pocket. "There's food in the fridge—I-if you want it." Lucas slipped back into the hallway, shutting the door behind him and dragging his way over to the front door. He fumbled with his keys as he attempted to lock the door, eyes blurry with tears and fingers trembling. 

When he got downstairs, Manon was still standing outside, leaning against a lamppost and typing something on her phone. When the door slammed behind him, she looked up, face instantly falling and she pushed herself off the lamp and strided over to him, eyebrows furrowed and a deep frown set in her face.

"Don't," he choked out, "I don't wanna talk about it." He started down the pavement, legs and hands trembling, blinking back tears. 

"We don't have to," Manon replied, catching up to him. She gave him a sad smile and took his hand in her own, squeezing it lightly. 

The rest of the way to school was complete silence. 

◇

First period Biology, Lucas slumped into his usual seat, dropping his bag in front of him with a thud. Imane, who had been looking down to reply to a message looked up at the sound, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. His face must have been readable as her look twisted from curiosity to concern in a nanosecond. 

"Are you okay? You look kinda like you've been crying." 

"It's fine. I'm fine now," he remarked maybe a little too harsh. Imane sat back, tilting her head and giving him her usual 'You're not getting away with that' look. He sighed, looking out the windows of the classroom which overlooked the courtyard. "I got in an argument with Eliott about something. I was just shaken by the yelling, I guess," he admitted, toying with his fingers on top of his unopened bag. 

"Was it a big argument?" she asked. Arthur entered the class followed by Alexia and they both waved at Imane and Lucas as they wandered over to their desks. Arthur seemed to sense something was off, pausing to give him a look before continuing to his desk.

Lucas shook his head. "Not really. He just sorta snapped at me because I offered to stay to keep him company while he's, uh, sick," he explained. He had no idea what else to say to avoid telling her about Eliott's condition when he probably wouldn't appreciate everyone knowing. 

"He yelled at you until you were crying because you offered to stay to keep him company? Isn't that a bit harsh?" Imane stated, eyebrows narrowing further. 

"It's not his fault I can't handle people shouting. And it just startled me," he replied, immediately coming to Eliott's defense, "He wasn't, you know, like my dad. He was just in a bad mood."

"Are you sure? Because you look like you're about to faint," she said, jokingly feeling his forehead with the back of her hand. 

Lucas pushed her hand away, rolling his eyes. "I'm fine, Imane. What's with you being all motherly all of a sudden, anyway?" Lucas teased, poking her in the side. She squirmed away, slapping his wrist. 

"I'm always the mum friend," she remarked simply, shrugging, "And besides. We're friends, dumbass. Of course I worry about you."

Lucas gasped, slapping his hand to his chest. "Who replaced the real Imane? You're actually admitting that we're friends? And that you worry about me?" he exclaimed, feigning horror. Imane shoved him away by his face, scoffing. "You worry about me, Mother Imane."

"You're a mess constantly, of course I do. Especially when you arrive at school with unexplained injuries—" She lifted his still bandaged hand. "—or looking like a kicked puppy. It's what I do." She shrugged, picking up her pencil as their teacher finally arrived, greeting the class. "And don't you dare call me Mother, Lallemant," she added, elbowing his side.

"What would you prefer?" 

"Fuck off." 

Lucas snorted, finally unpacking his bag. "You love me," he said, flicking her shoulder.

"Unfortunately, yes." 

◇

Lucas took the long way home that afternoon, telling Manon to go ahead while he walked around a few extra blocks. He knew he was going to have to talk to Eliott when he got home and while he was hopeful that it would go well, he was still terrified. What if Eliott didn't want to talk? What if he had overstepped his boundaries too much and Eliott wanted nothing to do with him? What if Eliott had gone home instead of facing him? What if what if what if. 

Finally, at almost 18h, Lucas unlocked the door to the flat, stepping inside. Mika and Lisa were sitting on the couch together playing some card game while Manon sat at the dinner table with her homework. Eliott was sitting across from her watching her work, tapping his fingers on his knee idly. When he entered, all four heads looked up towards the sound.

Eliott was immediately on his feet, eyes wide and shocked. Lucas was starting to see the raccoon vibe. He sent Eliott a small smile and Eliott made his way over, looking extra tall dressed in Lucas' too small clothes. 

"My room?" Lucas asked, jutting his chin towards the hallway. Eliott nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. Lucas caught Manon's eye and she gave him an encouraging smile. They started down the hallway in a single file, floorboards creaking under their socked feet. 

Lucas shut the door behind them and Eliott sat down on the—surprisingly made—bed, chewing on his lower lip. Lucas leaned against his bedroom wall just across from Eliott, fixing the hem of his shirt just for a distraction. The air in the room was heavy with tension, clouding the room in a layer of awkwardness that Lucas couldn't find his way out of. 

"How was your day?" Lucas asked, grasping for a semblance of normality. He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head. 

Eliott shrugged, keeping his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground. "Quiet. Boring. I slept most of the day and didn't get up until about 14:30." He sniffed, distractedly scratching one of his cheeks. "Can we just get this over with?" His voice came out several octaves higher than usual and if Lucas was right, he sounded petrified. 

"Get what over with? Today was just an off day, okay? It doesn't matter anymore. Poof, gone," Lucas insisted, splaying his hands wide in front of him as he said the last sentence.

"Yes it does matter, Lucas," Eliott snapped, standing up. Lucas instinctively pressed against the wall for a split second, eyes bulging. Eliott took a deep breath, scrubbing his hand over his face. "See? I know I hurt you this morning. I was an asshole and while I still don't know the backstory, I know you don't like loud noises. I shouldn't have yelled at you." 

"It's okay. It's over now. I'm fine now," Lucas insisted, standing closer to reach for Eliott's chin only to have his hand pushed away.

Eliott shut his eyes, tilting his head back as he steeled himself. "But it'll happen again! I'll get irrational and irritable and you won't want to be around me anymore," he babbled, gesturing wildly to articulate his point. He dropped his hands in defeat, barely whispering, "I don't want to hurt you anymore, Lucas." 

"You won't, Eliott. You won't," Lucas pleaded, shaking his head and cupping Eliott's cheeks. This time, Eliott let him. "And have you met me? I'm the most irrational and grumpy person to walk this earth and I'm not even bipolar. If anything, it's you who's going to get sick of me."

"That's not the same." 

"Yes it is. We're going to get on each other's nerves, we'll fight, we'll go into huffs and ignore each other. I'll be slamming doors and you'll be walking out and it'll be a mess. I know that will probably happen sometimes," Lucas rambled, resting his forehead against Eliott's, nuzzling their noses together. "But the thing is, I don't care about all that. I don't care if you sometimes spend days or weeks ignoring me or yelling at me or sleeping. I don't care if I'm having to talk you down from a manic episode or having to find you all over the city. I don't care. 

"I couldn't care less so long as I still have you, okay? We can take this step by step, day by day. Minute by minute if we have to." Lucas tilted Eliott's chin up, forcing him to look into his eyes. Lucas saw a whole storm of emotions brewing in those crystal blue eyes. "As long as you'll let me have you, I'll be here. I'm gonna always be here annoying you to the ends of the earth, okay? I'm not going anywhere." 

Eliott smiled, eyes brimmed with tears. He leaned up, closing the last centimetres between their lips, kissing Lucas tenderly, oh so soft and delicate. He pulled Lucas over onto his lap sideways, pecking his lips again and again and again until Lucas' lips were red and swollen. 

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I should have stopped as soon as you looked that frightened," Eliott whispered against his lips, rubbing his thumb over Lucas' shoulder blades. 

"My dad used to scream and yell all the time when I was growing up. That's why shouting scares me," Lucas blurted, "He would yell for hours on end, throwing things at the walls and screaming at my mother until we were both crying. She didn't handle it well, naturally, and so she's been in and out of hospital for the last few years for schizophrenia." Lucas toyed with the collar of the shirt Eliott was wearing, unable to keep still as words flooded out of his mouth like a broken dam releasing its water.

Eliott huffed, leaning against him and pulling him into the crook of his neck. There was that usual Eliott smell. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. Please tell me if I'm being too loud for you to handle. I can't promise I won't forget on my bad days, but I'll try. For you." Eliott cradled Lucas' head in his arms, talking directly into his ear. It sent a whole shiver through Lucas.

Lucas agreed, nodding up and down. "Then you have to tell me if I'm overstepping your boundaries in any way. I'd much rather you told me you needed some space than for you to get sick of my presence and leave." Lucas proposed as well, pulling his head out of Eliott's shoulder to look him in the eye.

"Again, I'll try. I tend to forget these things when I'm having an episode," Eliott replied, holding onto Lucas' shoulders, "I sometimes don't take my medications either because I feel good and then I get right back to square one. And then I'll end up hurting you again." 

Lucas poked Eliott's nose, shaking his head and getting to his feet. "We've been over this. I don't care about that stuff. We're probably both going to hurt each other accidentally a lot. We're both our own kind of mess. But we'll make it work, yeah?" Lucas pecked Eliott's lips chastely, leaning over the bed. "We're both a huge messy pile of trauma and regrets, but we can be a mess together. We have to at least try." 

"Come here. I need a cuddle after a whole day missing you and worrying about you hating me," Eliott said, making grabby hands for Lucas. Lucas giggled and let Eliott pull him into a hug, falling back onto the bed and scooting backwards until he was lying with his head on the pillow and Lucas lying on top of him. Lucas craned his neck to press a quick kiss to his cheek, blinking up at Eliott. "God, you're so beautiful," Eliott breathed, bending down for a proper kiss, supporting the back of Lucas' head.

And in that moment, wrapped up in Eliott, breathing in his warm scent, Lucas felt on top of the world. 

[brieannakeogh]

Ambition, Butter, and Wine- Ch 5

Ambition, Butter, and Wine- Kylo Ren x plus sized reader. Crack! Fic. You’re a new First Order recruit. Trained in the culinary arts at the top schools and they dare make you serve the common folk. What happens when you have the opportunity to serve Lord Ren?

Master List / Previous Chapter

Chapter 5

It was a couple of weeks later and you were moving into your own private suite. You weren’t sure who they kicked out to make room for you, but you felt giddy at imagining the officer’s face thinking he had been downgraded because of a mere cook. Really you hoped it was the officer’s chef who couldn’t cook himself out of a paper bag.

You were still laughing maniacally as you walk into your new room, arms full of clothes that you could barely see over the top of. It wasn’t until you bumped into something in the middle of the room and arms shot out to steady you, that you realized you weren’t alone. Coughing and choking on your own laugh as you stare into the faceless visor in front of you.  

“I can see checking that you liked your new location was unnecessary.” You flinched a little hearing the filtered voice, some conditioned response from his reputation. The visor tilted at your reaction and you forced yourself to relax. It was just so different dealing with him in the full get up and cowl too. This man screamed danger. It was great to intimidate his enemies with but you didn’t think he was still trying to intimidate you, at least you hoped not. You were going to have to stay by his side for a very long time and with as much butter you cooked with, you didn’t think your heart could handle the stress.

“No, no this is great sir! Absolutely perfect!” Stepping around him to throw the clothes down onto the bed. “I really wasn’t expecting a queen bed, or the kitchenette.”

“I thought you would use it more wisely then...others that you don’t think so fond of.” The smirk in his voice evident even with the filter. You understood at once that your wish had become a reality. Not only had he provided the room you requested, but snatched it from the officer you despised. Your cheeks hurt from how wide your smile was and another cackle was drawn from you as threw yourself back, landing on the bed with a bounce and a giggle. “I also thought you could use this instead of the main kitchens so you weren’t disturbed.” He continued, ignoring your celebrating.

“Yes sir. Good idea sir.” You let out with a pant once you were worn out.

“I want roast for dinner, so you should get started on that soon.” With that he turned on his heel, the cape behind him billowing out. You didn’t even have a chance to affirm you heard him before he was stomping out of your room.

Three weeks later your second request was fulfilled. A half a dozen layers of clothing, hat, scarf and large boots, saw you wading through the snow outside the base. You had had no reason to go outside since you had arrived so you may have gone a little overboard when you heard about the subzero temperatures. When he told you what the plan was for that day at breakfast, he had stopped you at the door to remind you to dress warmly. Taking him seriously, you were bundled up, but had a hard time moving in the over ankle deep snow. Almost tipping over more than once. You were from a warm planet, what did you know about snow or subzero temps?

Kylo stood out like a black hole on the white and serene landscape. He was leading you to the woods, out of sight of the base. You wondered what the other people on duty thought as they saw you being lead out to who knows where by Kylo. “Most assumed you had displeased me and I’m leading you to your slaughter, just so I don’t have to do paperwork on the body.”

You tripped a little over your feet, startled more on his answering the silent question than the contents of his words. He hadn’t been doing that much lately, skimming your mind. You rarely felt the pressure anymore. You would assume it would be because he was worried about hurting you again, but that was silly.

Chuckling as you regained your footing. “No sir that wouldn’t happen. If I did displease you enough to kill me you would do it openly, in public. Probably in the galley during lunch rush, just to turn everyone’s stomach. What good is a private death if no lessen can be learned from it?”

The weird wheezing that you associated with him laughing through the filter, echoed around. “A warning for your replacement?”

“At that point it would be an inevitability on how the career ends. I don’t think you will kill me for an innocent mistake. If you are that enraged, I would have deserved it, I think. You like me too much otherwise.”

He halts and you take two steps past him, looking back. “My food, of course.” He starts up again.

“You’re getting cocky.”

“I’ve always been cocky. You usually just ignore it when you read my mind.” Another wheezing noise.

Now the two of you are far enough into the woods that you can’t make out the direction of the base without looking for your tracks. It’s completely silent, other than your panting breaths and the steady filtered air flow through his mask. You hadn’t realized how loud just the hum of the machines were on base. The frenzied activity, deafening.

Suddenly a screech tore through the woods and it made you stumble back. Your eyes closed tight waiting on the impact of the ground to your butt, since you knew you couldn’t right yourself, but it never came and you felt a slight pressure on your back. Opening your eyes you see Kylo in front of you with an arm out and his angry red lightsaber lit by his side, humming.

The visor shaking back and forth as the pressure on your back increased, tilting you back up standing. You realized the horrible sound that startled you was his saber activating. You’ve never been close enough to one of his tirades to hear it, but now you understood what all the fuss was about.

“Useless in battle.”

“I’m a chef not a fighter. I never thought I would be out on the field.” Brushing off snow that isn’t there on your clothes just so you don’t have to look up at him from embarrassment.

His visor tilted again studying you. “How are you with a blaster?”

You shrug, which isn’t much movement under all the layers. “I passed the basic test, but since my position didn’t require it, I didn’t try for the advanced.”

“I’ll set you up with more blaster training. You might be exposed to more combat in your current position and I doubt you could run away from a fight.”

Crossing your arms to your chest in indignation. “Is that supposed to be a commentary on my size Lord Ren?”

The snort was clear, even through the mask. “No, your personality.” He clicked the saber off and held it out to you. “You did ask the most powerful force user in the galaxy to let you destroy something with his lightsaber.”

You cleared your throat and brought your scarf over your mouth and nose a bit more to hide your face, before reaching out to take the offered weapon. He maneuvered you by the shoulders to stand in front of a stump. It was a big stump, about half wide as you were tall and it came up to a little above your waist. “Now,” He says very close behind you, the warmth at your back appreciated. “You must understand that I created this weapon, it is in tune to me. It shouldn’t fight you, but if it starts to feel off...or odd, I don’t know how it would feel to a non force user, make sure to turn it off and drop it at once.”

Well that was a scary speech. “I didn’t know they could have minds of their own.” You chuckled nervously.

And now the wheeze is back and it’s definitely a laugh and definitely louder than it has been before. “You people really have no idea how it works do you?”

“Well excuse me for not being able to fling things around with just a thought! That would be awesome, but we can’t all be special.”

You feel him stiffen behind you, hands tightening on your shoulders. “It is special. Rare. It’s also hard, trying and isolating. I am the best because I have to be. There is no room for second place. I think you understand that as well.”

“Our ambition is only second to our limits, but you seem limitless to me.”

“As I said, you know nothing of the force.”

“But I know how to chop up a stump!” Trying to lighten up the brooding talk with enthusiasm for what you were about to do seemed to work. “So how do you turn this thing on?” Rotating it around the big shiny button obvious when you see it.

“Wait!” He bites out and backs off a safe distance from swing reach, moving to stand more in front of you to watch. “Proceed, and I hope I don’t have to remind you that it cuts through anything, including bone, with ease.”

You carefully hold it out front of yourself, making sure the vents are away from your fingers and the correct end is out. Pushing up on the switch produces that same screeching noise as before. For some reason you expected it to be heavier when lit, but of course that was stupid as it’s just an energy beam without mass. Having all the weight in the hilt makes it seem unbalanced. You gave a few cursory swings around in the air, being careful to not hit any of your limbs. Once you got the feel of it, you gave your best battle cry and started demolishing the defenseless stump in front of you.

There was no push back, very little resistance. Other than the effort it took to swing your arms over your head, you could go on forever. A hot knife through butter flashed in your head. When the thing in front of you resembled more splinters of wood then a stump, you dropped your arms down to your side, flipping the switch to turn it off. You were exhausted, but it wasn’t all just physical. Yes your lungs burned from the cold air from your heavy pants, and your arms were sore, but you felt mentally tired too, like something was drained from you. It was eerily like when he pushed into your mind too far and too hard.

Kylo removed the saber from your hand. You hadn’t even registered he walked back near you. “Did the stump have a name?”

It took you a second to understand what he said, your brain a little fuzzy on adrenaline again. “Carl. Carl the stump.” It’s name wasn’t Carl, but Kylo didn’t question it. “He cheated on Mrs. Stump two years into the marriage, left her destitute. Now Carl is kindling.”

“As I said, personality. I’ll have you start blaster training next week.” You nod absentmindedly. “Let’s go inside, it’s fucking freezing.” Laughing at the man who’s probably in thermal padded armor, you trudge along behind, following your tracks back to the base.

Next Chapter

So I know I’ve been MIA for a while and sorry about that. I’ve been in and out of the hospital and hadn’t done much other than try to deal with that and trying not to freak out about the new complications in my life. I’m starting to feel like myself again so maybe I’ll be able to do a bit of writing and get back on a normal scheduled. For now though it’s just going to be what it is and I’ll try to post chapters when I can. 

As always I would love to hear from you all and if you want to be added to the tag list just send me a message.

Thank you all for sticking around!

@stevieang, @albinotigerpython, @paintballkid711, @lilypalmer1987, @tnupsweetpie

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Heartbeat: A Fragile Reminder

TITLE: Heartbeat: A Fragile Reminder

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 12 / ?

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-dark midnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki falling in love with a Midgardian and his words to Thor about Jane during Dark World coming back to haunt him. “It would be a heartbeat. You would never be ready.”

RATING:  M for Mature

NOTES/WARNINGS: ~▪︎~FOR THE WHOLE STORY~▪︎~

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Check Masterlist. It's going to be a long read. I try to keep each chapter around 3,000 words.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

!-!TRIGGER WARNING(S)!-!

So many triggers, read ALL of them!

Swearing. Angst. Death. Depression. Violence. Self-harm. Regret. Carelessness for safety. Doubts. Torture. NSFW. Smut. Fluff. And Of Course- Mischief.

Summary: Bad news.

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

Loki heard, "Get. Drawin... Stuff" Alicia forced out. Loki had his attention mostly on her already. He summoned papers and a pen. He put them on the table. The pen he placed in her hand, lead her hand to the paper. Currently Alicia had drawn her father, fatally injured. She was holding him, obvious despair on her face with angry tears flowing like a waterfall. She was also battered as well but she would live. The surrounding area looked as if they were in an open field. Loki took that piece of paper, "Good Darling. Now. What are the decisions leading up to this?" He placed a blank paper in front of her.

Someone on the hill above Asgard. A rocket being launched down into the city.

"Good Darling." Loki moved that paper and replaced it. "Show me the moments after the original vision." People running closer and Alicia's father talking to Loki. Loki carrying a screaming Alicia, kicking and hitting Loki. Alicia curled in bed, in the dark and crying. Alicia's eyes were lost, brighter, and tears flowed from them. She was shaking but her hand only trembled slightly. Loki took the papers and handed them to Furry. "You did good Darling. Now. Listen to my voice. Listen to the area you are in. Ease out of your visions and come to present time. The real world." Loki saw her eyes starting to come to life and finding their place. As she did her emotions tied to her vision hit her. Her face conveying distress. Tears fell from her eyes faster causing a steady stream. She started to fall to the floor as sobs started to rack her body. Loki was quick to catch her. Holding her in his arms. He hushed her. He pulled her to sit on his lap. Her back was against his chest. She was trying to curl up in a ball, crying loudly, and growling in frustration. Loki held her still as possible. He held her firmly, trying to use pressure to ease her out of her state of mind. Gently ran his fingers where they could touch her. He applied only enough pressure to make his touch known. "It's ok Darling. You did good. You are going to be alright." He whispered in her ear, "I'm here." It took a few minutes but Alicia's body grew more slack. She was only whimpering now. "Good," Loki purred. "Take your time Darling." Slowly Alicia relaxed into him. Her head resting on his shoulder, legs slack against his. Her arms were now loose and trying to fall by her sides but Loki had his arms around hers to keep her from falling. Loki's heart clenched tightly he felt it was going to stop. He noticed deep nail indents where her nails rested. Some of the nail indents were bleeding. Enough to let Loki know; once this vision comes true she will at least self harm. Loki tried to move Alicia so he could heal her but she reached for Loki. Loki watched Marcus with a strong intensity as his hand went to her head. "She's burning up." Marcus's eyes met with Loki's, "Is that normal?" Loki healed her quickly and helped ease her temperature. "It is for how long she was in her visions." Loki moved Alicia so he could pick her up bridal style. "I need to get her somewhere quiet." Alicia nuzzled into him with a mewl. Her body completely exhausted. Loki gently set her on the bed in a room with various monitors. When Loki tried to move away from her a weak, "Stay," was heard. Loki sat on the edge of the bed; brushing hair away from her face, running his hand along her arms with enough pressure to be felt, and telling her everything was fine. Loki heard the footsteps of Marcus entering the room, "Is she asleep?" Loki knew she was about five minutes ago. He just wanted to comfort her. "Yes."

"Fury wants to talk to you."

Loki followed Marcus to the meeting room with all of Alicia's drawings.

Furry took his power stance, eyeing and studying Loki. Loki took his authoritative court stance as he did on Asgard when in meetings. "Now that I have seen it for myself instead of just receiving the images..How did you know how to get more information from her and why was she so distressed?" "I have seen many witches being guided through their visions. The longer they are in their visions, the stronger they feel the emotions from the events. This is the most intense vision she had with me present. The question is... What do we do now?" Loki's finger ran along his lip. He could start the application process for a healer… it was a long process and Loki knew her "civilian" life would be ruined. "Well obviously we tell Alicia-" Alicia's father attempted to say. "Not yet," Loki growled. "Why not?" Furry asked with the same intensity as Loki. "She has injured herself to the point of drawing blood." Loki spoke on behalf of the Midgardian's poor knowledge, "It means she will inflict self harm or even try to kill herself once the vision takes place." Loki saw her father's face. The emotion overwhelming his face, but it was in a flash, as quickly as it came it was gone. Loki felt the same way once he saw her blood. Alicia's father looked in thought... "When her mother was killed by a man… Edward.. Alicia was upset when she drew the vision of the man outside our house... She drew blood then as well. She-" His eyes closed tightly. His eyes scanned everyone else, "I'm telling you this so you can keep an eye on her." Loki picked at his hand. He did not have meaningful intentions of hurting her but... Her vision. He was going to be the one to pull her from her father. He knew she was going to be hurt that way, possibly hate him for it. "Loki?" Loki looked to where the soft voice came from. "Alicia." Loki took steps to her. Carefully. "How do you feel Darling?" Her eyebrows scrunched together and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. "I... I don't know." She took slow steps to him. Loki held out his arms slightly and she took rushed steps to him. He met her, instantly wrapping his arms around her as she let out a sob. He hushed her and ran his hand over the back of her head. He felt terrible. This was partly his fault. He kept her in the visions too long and the emotions were so strong they blended into her present time. Alicia wiped at her eyes and face before facing everyone else. She moved slightly away. "What... What was my vision?" There was quiet. Alicia looked up at Loki. "Loki?" Loki put hair behind her ear. "We are working on how to handle it. Don't worry about it for now." Loki's heart broke as her face contorted into absolute fear, new tears streaming down her face. Alicia asked, "What is it?" Alicia's father stepped beside them, "Your exhausted, let's get you to sleep again." "No!" Alicia said pushing away from Loki. "You ALWAYS insist I know so everything turns out better! What are you hiding?!" "Nothing Al-" "I had a vision. Show me." Loki moved to hold her again but she swatted at him. The look in her eyes were that of the effects of the vision and anger from not knowing what the vision was. "We will talk about it at a later date. We need to let you relax Darling." Loki took careful steps to her, "Darling, I kept you in your vision for too long… the things that you feel are just a side effect." An extremely frustrated growl tore through her throat. “I obviously need to make this better.” She pushed him away again. "It can't be good. It can't. I feel so...so. Just terrible. Sad and mad-with such intensity it's pulling me apart." Alicia held herself tightly. "What were they?!" No one said a thing. Alicia groaned as she turned on her heel, "I'm going to my room."

"What if we let her make it better?" Furry suggested once the door slammed shut. "We would have to tell her then." Alicia's father countered. "You might be able to live after all of this." Furry retorted. "It might work," Marcibeth spoke up from the table looking at the visions with interest. Furry laid the pictures on table. Then removed the picture from the past. "We can not change this." The only pictures left; Alicia's father laying fatally injured, Alicia holding him, crying. People running closer. And Alicia's father talking to Loki. Loki carrying a screaming Alicia, kicking and hitting Loki. Alicia curled in bed, in the dark and crying.

Loki was running his finger across his lip as he thought. Loki pointed to the picture of Alicia's father talking to him. "What would you be saying here?" Alicia's father didn't hesitate, "Probably to keep her safe at all costs." Alicia’s father quickly spoke. “What if she goes into another coma?”

Loki’s stiff shoulders tensed more as he spoke realizing he would have multiple tasks in a short time. “I could put her deep dreamless sleep before that happens and she could rest until her body was prepared to wake.” He would have to have perfect timing.

There was a knock at the door and Loki stepped in. "You can see your visions. I am sorry I kept you in them for so long… you will see why I did."

Alicia nodded and she could barely hear herself when she replied, "okay." Alicia was fully expecting a coma if she was going to be able to make the visions better. She already wanted to go to sleep.

She walked out into the meeting area, and no one stopped her from her visions. Alicia walked to the table, seeing drawings. Tears welled in her eyes. She kneeled beside the table. She felt the eyes on her but she kept herself calm, on the outside at least. She started to think.. She could heal her father. For a wound of that size she would need to practice more. She felt bile rising up her throat. Healing magic wasn't that hard for Alicia and her father’s life seems to be on the line. She didn’t want to think about it but.... Her father could be taken. What would happen after that would be up to the capturers, but there would be a chance he'd be alive. Someone comforting her. Probably Loki. But...she already felt so angry at him already. Alicia understood that Loki was probably just following orders but this was probably the extreme sadness and anger she felt.

Loki took her hand before she could get close to that paper, “I am going to walk you through these next set of visions. When you are done I’m going to use a spell to put you to sleep so you can recover. It is a precaution against a coma state.” Alicia nodded, pulled from his grasp and started to draw.

Loki’s heart plummeted when she pulled away without a word. Without an ounce of kind warmth. Tons of fire and ice mixing within her and that was the energy she was putting out. The intensity left Loki with a burning sensation, not of passion he felt before but of a sharp pain in his chest. So he pushed the feeling down into one of the dark corners in his mind. Loki watched her getting tired quickly from the next oncoming visions as she changed the one she had just had. She was very clever, thinking to let the people take her father as they would likely use him to trap Alicia. If Loki was ever right about anything in his life, she was going to willing jump into that trap again. Loki saw new sweat forming on her. Her eyes starting to brighten.

Loki remembered well. He would not ask anything about time. The gods better be on anyone’s side who would.

He watched her and worry ate at him. The feelings growing from that dark place in his mind. She couldn't possibly handle another vision. Loki tightened his jaw and swallowed. Loki was going to be there for her. Do as she had commanded and pull as much as he could from her. Her eyes got brighter and lost.

Loki slipped a new piece of paper at the sign of the new visions. He let Alicia draw the first vision.

Loki saw her chained, the symbols Asgarian for cancelling all Sedeir and magic. Those cuffs cause unbelievable pain. It was the worst form of torture for a Seder wielder because magic was held in the body wherever it was and grew within the person without any release. The obvious marks on her skin showed other obvious pain as well. He had an idea of who could do this. Then there was a figure being drawn. Loki talking to Alicia. Grateful his expression looked worried in the image. If it was anything other than this, Loki would be thrown away for sure.

Loki was almost stuck inside his mind but his eyes saw her hand starting to slow in its movements.

“Good Darling,” Loki slid the vision to the center of the table and set the new paper in front of her with the other hand. “Very good. Show me something before.”

She was in a press conference meeting being added as a new Avenger.

Loki had enough of watching Alicia shake and tremble as if she was in Jotunheim.

“You did good Darling. Ease out of your visions, slowly. Take one thing at a time.”

Loki had his hand near Alicia’s head, ready. He had to get this perfect. Her eyes becoming clear, confident and stubborn, as well as heavy with an impending sleep. Loki took his slim chance and felt his spell work. Loki caught her quickly. The hand once on her forehead cradled her head and the other arm wrapping around her back. Loki pulled Alicia to his chest.

Her father quickly spoke up. “Did it work?-Is she under your spell?”

“Yes. I can feel it working already. I imagine it will only be a few hours of rest.” Loki refrained from looking down at her, “She is remarkably strong.”

Loki stayed with Alicia so the spell would work better. He knew Alicia would jump into a trap but, into this one? Loki found some comfort in knowing he got there… but how long would she be in them? He knew Luit. He had the ability to stop all magical energy from flowing. He was an interrogator for Asgard because of his ability. Luit disappeared just a month ago...

Alicia woke up in a better state of mind and saw Loki in thought. She whispered his name. And his eyes were hers. She smiled a little and she saw relief flood into him as his shoulders relaxed. "Thank you for getting more from me…"

Loki's eyes went wide and looked away briefly, "Alicia.. you drew blood, which means you will self harm once the vision is done. If you feel overwhelmed, please. Let me, anyone know." Alicia saw Loki's hand move then stop.

She held his hand and kept her eyes where they merged, "I will try."

Her hand was held to his lips with a firm kiss. He held with hers with both of his hands. Alicia couldn't keep her eyes from his flooded with tears. He kissed her hand gently but his lips stayed there he closed his eyes and the dam was broken. Alicia saw his eye shut tighter, felt his lips in a deep frown as he pushed them on to her hand more.

Alicia wiped his face and brought his forehead to her lips. A tear escaped her own eyes. Loki pulled from her. His hands cupped her face and he stared into her eyes, "promise me."

Alicia wanted to look away but Loki did not let her. Alicia had no choice, but something prevented her from giving an absolute promise, "I will try to let you know."

Loki took the promise as is and Alicia felt he knew that would be the answer. Loki let her see the after visions. She was obviously torchered and she saw the odd cuffs. Then Alicia trying to say something to Loki as she was chained still.  

Alicia pointed to the cuffs and looked at Loki, "Are these Asgardian symbols?"

"Yes Darling. The symbols are for canceling magic."

Alicia hummed. Looking at the image again, "Can some be made?" She looked at him, "I know you get there but maybe I can practice being in this situation."

"I would prefer you not. That is extremely painful magic cancelation."

"Maybe I could get used to the pain with exposure. Either way. Those cuffs get on me sooner or later." Loki looked away from her then she continued, "no one knows how long I will be in them either." She knew Loki was going to say something but she grabbed his hand. "This is going to happen, the only thing to do is to prepare what we can."

"You are not going to "train" to try to get used to that."

Alicia looked at Marcibeth, "sooner or later."

[ko-fanatic]

Horrifying Martyrdom

For day two of @kyokao-week: Horror/Mystery 

Rating: Mature

Pairing: KyoKao

Summary: It was no secret that Kyoya was sick. His thin frame attested it, so pale and tired, and what ghoul is those things if not sick or injured? It's fair to say that Kaoru didn't expect this...

Warning: Anorexia, auto-cannibalism, blood and gore, eye trauma, guro kink

A/N: While this would probably be okay to read as a stand-alone, it's probably best if you go and read my other fic, Blue Blood Tastes the Same, first. 

Kaoru wasn’t sure what led up to this.

Well, that was a lie. He knew full well, but the issue was that he hated to think about it; hated knowing that Kyoya was so thin and delicate for a reason. Because what ghoul starves themself? It doesn’t make sense, especially for those in the position they were. If they chose, they didn’t have to hunt or see the poor unfortunate who’d be that night’s dinner. They could be as removed from it all as they wanted and didn’t have to worry about anything other than eating what was provided.

But there had always been something off about the Ootori boys, according to the gossips who whispered amongst their friends. Picky eaters, strange habits, small meals. A delicate constitution. Kyoya was by far the worst, but the story always changed when he was asked. He didn’t like others watching him eat, he felt like his favourite cuts would cause something of a stir (that got a laugh, at least), he just wasn’t hungry, he was sick.

Yoshio seemed to stick to the excuse that his son was ill, the older ladies of their standing – the ones who weren’t ghouls – cooing over him and treating him like a china doll. In a sense, standing outside the bathroom door now, Kyoya having locked himself inside… The man wasn’t wrong. But he had a feeling, an instinctual pull at his gut, that told him it wasn’t the whole truth.

His knuckles rapped lightly against the door, hoping Kyoya would at least acknowledge him despite the gagging and stuttering breaths he could hear within. He saw Kyoya’s eyes briefly as he rushed into the restroom; wide, beautiful, bleeding into stunning black and crimson as he ran.

“Are you alright in there?” He inquired, pressing up against the solid wood as if this were some sort of video game, and he could magically glitch through to the other side.

He swore he could hear gasps of pain added to the mix, hissed through gritted teeth, and it scared him. Should he call Yoshio? One of Kyoya’s brothers? They were doctors, after all, and probably knew what the hell was going on with him. He was only supposed to be there to discuss the new menu, but that was when things took a turn for the worst and now –

Oh. Oh God, that couldn’t be it, could it? All that talk of food, flavours, textures… Something hollowed in the pit of his abdomen, some organs falling into the wrong places and twisting into knots. Especially when he only heard Kyoya’s unsteady breathing grow harder. More laboured. He futilely grabbed the door handle, twisting and hoping and wishing that it would unlock and put his mind more at ease, but it obviously didn’t.

“Don’t come in…” Came a quiet voice – a defeated plea – from beyond the door. It was broken, but calmer. Not quite as forced, but it was still tinged with the aftershocks of desperation and pain –

And it made his heart break, if just a little bit. Or a lot, if he was honest with himself. The manager and chef of a ghoul restaurant, it almost made him laugh. Cheesy. But the situation called for much more tact than that.

“I have to Kyoya,” He began, voice as soft as cotton in hopes of softening the next words from his lips, “I’m worried. Can you let me in?”

“You don’t want to see,” The reply came, quiet but all too rushed, “I’ll be fine. I’m a ghoul, remember? It’ll be o –”

“With some kind of illness no one else seems to know about,” He argued, forehead falling against the door, “I… I don’t know what’s going on. I can’t just hum ‘see you later’ and walk out the door like that. At least let me make sure… for my own sake, at least…”

There was a silence. It seemed to stretch on for eternity, Kaoru debating what the best course of action would be if he was ignored. He could kick the door in, but he could easily hurt Kyoya if he did that, and he didn’t want to make things worse than they were.

“… It’s ugly…”

Kaoru almost laughed at that, out of relief at hearing Kyoya’s voice more than anything. “That’s not going to bother me,” He promised, “Besides, as if someone like you could ever be anything less than beautiful.”

Was that too much? Probably. However, rather than overthinking that little (or, not so little) indulgence into his crush, he was greeted with the lock clicking off. Kyoya didn’t open the door, but at least he granted Kaoru access, and he took advantage before the other boy could change his mind.

Blood.

Blood everywhere.

The first thing he found was the previously white tile stained almost completely red. It was the first thing that drew his eye, and the sense of calm he’d gained dissipated instantly. How could anyone, especially a person as frail as Kyoya, bleed so much.

There he was, drenched in his own blood and curled into the corner of the room. The sight was something that should have disgusted him, but he only felt sorry for the broken boy, with some inappropriate lust thrown into the mix for an extra layer of wrong. One red and black eye stared back, the other replaced with a grotesque, delicious injury.

“K-Kyoya…” He gasped, rushing in and nearly crashing to his knees beside the other boy. One beautiful eye was teary and raw around Kyoya’s long lashes, the other gouged out and missing. He could see the white bone of the eye socket, muscle tissue and lipids almost seeming to bubble inside; his body trying and failing to heal itself. It wasn’t dark or cavernous – not what you’d immediately think – and he had to will his own eyes to stay hazel, “What happened to your eye?”

He placed his hand on Kyoya’s trembling, bony shoulder; scapula protruding beneath his hand like wings attempting to sprout and escape his thin flesh. Kyoya Ootori, crying his one eye out on the bathroom floor. Despite his frail appearance, he still had a lot of dignity, so he doubted anyone would truly believe this unless they were witnessing it for themselves.

“I ate it.”

The admission was so quiet, steeped in shame. Because even fewer ghouls eat themselves.

“I was just so hungry, I couldn’t stop myself,” He laughed, high and bitter and jarring, causing Kaoru to flinch, “I hate eating, but I was starving and it tasted so good. Eyes are so delicious, letting them burst on your tongue and slip down your throat… feels amazing. But it’s okay, I’m in control again, I’m not some sort of uncontrollable beast like she was –”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Kaoru cut in, disturbed by his senpai’s almost manic ranting, “You don’t like eating? Is that… all this is? Kyoya, why? Can’t you see what you’re doing to yourself –”

“Of course, but I don’t care!” Kyoya snapped, “I can’t be a binger. It’s proof that I have the self-control she didn’t! I’m a monster, we’re monsters, but at least I’m trying!”

“Who… who are you even talking about?” Kaoru had to restart that sentence, something indignant at the thought of being called a monster by a fellow ghoul, but he forced the irrational emotion from him. Kyoya called himself a monster, first and foremost, and it wouldn’t help to get angry. If anything, that would just discourage Kyoya telling him the truth about all this.

As he calmed, Kyoya lost the fight he’d clawed back, his remaining eyelid looking heavy and his shoulders slack. “You must know… Everyone knows. I can see it when they look at me. They’re waiting for me to gorge myself like my mother did…”

Oh. He should have known.

Really, he couldn’t say the Hitachiins really gave a shit about what Kyoya’s mother did, because she wasn’t that important. She was the disgrace you don’t mention if you’re polite. His own mother thought that lording her binge eating around as if that somehow made her better than everyone else was… distasteful. However, it’s not like they talked about it. Kaoru had honestly half-forgotten, only remembering when Kyoya said that. The reason why he didn’t eat. Kaoru would be lying if he said his heart didn’t break for this small, fragile boy who hid behind a powerful aura and iron will.

Kyoya was strong, and this didn’t change that. For a ghoul to pointedly ignore their hunger for as long as Kyoya did takes willpower. It’s painful, maddening, and this had been Kyoya’s life for years.

“What does it matter if they think that?” He inquired, shifting a little closer. He could feel the squelch of his blood-saturated trousers beneath his knees, but he didn’t particularly care. He touched their foreheads together, gazing into Kyoya’s remaining, pretty eye, “They don’t, but even so. It’s none of their business, and it’s more important to be healthy. You’re sick, Kyoya. Very sick.”

“We’re all sick,” He answered, and Kaoru was unsurprised. You can’t undo years of damage in a couple minutes, after all, even if that did kind of hurt.

He just nodded, standing to riffle through the cabinets. “Do you have a first aid kit in here?” He inquired, “Or at least some bandages?”

They’re in the small shelving unit beside the sink. Not that Kyoya’s room is at all dusty – but he expected more signs of stagnation within the supplies within the kit. A lotion or ointment out of date, perhaps. The issue is that it seems perfectly well-stocked, and while it does make sense for the son of a doctor, it makes him worry. If Kyoya took a bite out of himself today, it’s logical to think he’s done it before.

Instead of ruminating on that, he returns to his knees beside the boy, gently pressing a gauze pad to the empty eye socket and proceeding to carefully wrap the bandages around it. It seemed Kyoya was so desperate and reckless to eat anything that he also tore off his eyelid. Probably gulped it down with the rest, and he hates the arousal he can feel in his gut.

By the time he’s at the end of the bandage, Kyoya has thick layers of fabric obscuring his exposed eye socket and wrapped around his head, in the hopes of keeping it all in place. His black hair is sticking up over the white layers, and poking in between in places, and the image is somehow so adorable that he almost audibly coos. While there’s no way Kyoya can take him physically, he wouldn’t dare, if only because that would break whatever odd spell they’re currently under.

Instead, he slides an arm under Kyoya’s sharp knees and around those budding angel wings and lifts him in a princess carry. He’s so light – must be under a hundred pounds, surely, even at his height – and it’s worrying. The thin silver lining, however, is how Kyoya just nuzzles into the nape of his neck, arms looping around his shoulders.

He’ll get him some actual food soon, but for now, he places him down on that large, soft bed and snuggles up to Kyoya. He holds him like a porcelain doll, not wanting to bruise him, and pressed kisses to the skin behind the other boy’s ear until he hears the quiet snuffles and snores.

Then, he can rest. Nothing will change in a few hours, and they’ll be better prepared for the talk they have to have. But for now, he’ll sleep, curled up with his beautiful angel.

[vanaera]

Your Side of the Bed

Synopsis | Hoseok will bask in the crumpled sheets of your bed until you learn to erase your past’s name on the duvet and replace it with his. It’s been long since the sheets were changed. He’s got a better one, a much warmer one and he hopes you could see the permanence laced in its every thread.

Genre | slight angst, fluff

Wordcount | 1,749

Play Your Side of the Bed by Loote

               Have you ever felt happy in something that you’re not supposed to want?

               The eight o’ clock daylight seeps through your blinds, stirring Hoseok from his sleep with an answer on the tip of his tongue. The question has long loomed over his head for some time now, the answer clear to him everytime he has to assure himself of his stand in your life. But today was too early and what he can only do is look at you - hair a mess, bare face, tired body engulfed in the sheets by his side. Hoseok smiles and tucks the few stray strands of your hair behind your ear. The steady rise and fall of your chest makes him reminisce the steady pounding of last night’s rain.

               The clouds weren’t gray that evening; a darkish cerulean even, yet the rain was heavy, dropping on the pavement like thunderous claps, hitting the hood of his car in a clangorous downpour. But to him, it was ironically mellifluous – to find beauty and calm in tragedy and noise. It shouldn’t even be therapeutic to him. He liked it in a kind of a pathological extent. And the same goes for you. He turns his head to look at you picking at the bits of the worn rubber on the handle by your side. He refuses to have another image of you leaving so he speaks up, “Have you ever liked something that is quite mismatched?”

               The pale peach of your lips curve a little. Your wine red lipstick he knew you always liked has long served its purpose. The hour ago was intimate, having you straddled on his lap to “just kiss,” peppering his jaw in butterfly kisses and breathy wonders of “I really like the way your lips feel on mine.” Your lips are satin on his heated skin and wasted no time reciprocating the intensity you paced, devouring your mewls and moans with the plush of his chapped lips. But what he liked most was the aftermath, the scene after the onslaught of his affection on you – tousled hair, smeared lipstick, and trying to catch the breath you lost because of him. Toning down your aggressiveness, balancing out your edges with his softer ones, he thinks you’re pretty in peach. Well, you’re pretty everyday. It’s just the way you looked now that only he is privileged to see, was stupefyingly beautiful.

               Your voice makes him divert his eyes from the plush of your lips toward your eyes. You let out an amused laugh, “Stop staring at me,” and Hoseok giggles. Grinning wide, you answer his question, “I don’t know, maybe some of your parts.”

               "Why just parts of me?“ He chuckles, quickly drowning the bitterness that unexpectedly dropped in the pit of his stomach.

               You look at the gray ceiling of his car, pondering on thoughts warring in your head. You always tend to think too much and Hoseok knows this ever since he’s been by your side in high school. Until now when you’re living the rest of your prime years as adult-like the both of you could be. He’s still wishing you could let some of them bother his mind too, so you won’t need to always endure the mess your thoughts create. Someday, if you’d let him, he’d always gladly do so. 

He watches you clear your throat, body angling to your side to completely fill his view of you. You lean, body facing towards him just in time he did the same. “You make me…feel happy. Sometimes,” you quickly add, “Especially when I need to. Yeah, you do that to me.“

               Legs crossed on the leather of the passenger seat, your fingers twiddling the frayed ends of your plum-dyed hair. He’s only a few inches away from you, fingers aching to tuck those strands behind your ear. But he’s not in that place…yet. He keeps his hand on the wheel and focusses on the monotonous symphony of the wipers for his beaten-up car and beaten-up heart.

It’s only hopeless because he knows there are weaknesses that will weigh down on your back until you’re on your knees. He just chose the wrong time to give in. “Why sometimes?”

               Especially when you are his weakness.

               "Hmm?“

               Hands leaving the wheel, he leans on the side of his locked door, fully facing you. It’s no use to refuse when temptation and desire has always been in his reach. "I said, why sometimes? Don’t I make you happy always?”

               You only look at his imploring eyes, snickering before you tore them to settle on the fogged glass of the window. “I’m happy, Hoseok, I really am. It’s just-”

               "Him?"

               You pause before affirming, "…yeah."

               And someone else happened to be your weakness. Someone who left you for another woman. It was two years ago, why are you still holding on your pointless hope like a naïve child? Hoseok clenches his fist, nails digging crescents in his palms. He wishes he could also do those impressions on your mind just to wake you to your senses, but he can’t do so. He loves you and he can’t hurt you that bad. He can only say something that has been established true from the start. “You know he’s not coming back, right?”

               "I know, I just-“

               "Wait?” He faces you one more time; you’re still looking outside. “You know you’ve been doing that for a very long time.” Waiting for nothing, refusing to look at him - he meant both of these but he doubts if you could actually notice them. Your eyes had been long blinded by the scraps of his so-called love.

               “I know.”

               The prolonged silence suffocates the air conditioning inside the confines of his car. He revs up the engine and pushed his foot on the pedal. He talks about his yesterday’s dance class and you animatedly joined him with another misadventure in your office. He’s always been good in diversion.

By the time the downpour has receded into a shower, Hoseok has already pulled the vehicle in front of your apartment. You beckoned him to stay for the night, just like always, and he finds himself stumbling inside the threshold of your home.

               But last night was different, and he could assure that because he felt it too.

               You didn’t ask him to make you forget, to erase him from your mind, to make love to you. It was the first for the countless nights you invited him to fill the empty space of the bed on your side. It has always been lonely to keep a large fraction by your side empty and cold. For the years that has passed before you met him and after he left, Hoseok has been trying to tell you that your bed is not designed to just hold two lovers engaged in physical passion. For overnight tornados of desire and lust cannot warm up a frozen heart when it could easily leave wreckage and ruins that may lacerate the fragile organ.

               Hoseok admits to his faults - he’s given in too many times to your pleas, a hipocrisy in act when he’s trying to keep you away from the toxic waters but is willing to toe them until he’s knee-deep if you ask him to - an excuse to touch you, a motive for him to love you. His Achilles’ heel you truly are.

               "Can you just…lie by my side? You don’t have to do anything, I just-“

               "Need someone to fill his space?” Hoseok didn’t mean for it to sound so bitter before he could think about what he spewed.

               But it’s not what’s on your mind. “No, I just need you to be by my side.”

               Hoseok was astounded and can only nod.

               That night, he curled to your side and pulled you close to him, the warmth emanating from his chest lulling you to sleep. In the thin line of consciousness and sleep as he closed his eyes, Hoseok felt you tug his hand draped on your waist to lay them on top of yours. One, two, three - you enclosed your fingers and locked his hand with yours. Like what lovers do. Like what he usually dreamt of doing with you. And while the night is dead, Hoseok pressed a loving kiss on your hairline.

               The indigo dips and creases on your bed are now cream and white and Hoseok looks at you snuggled deep in your sheets. Loving you may hurt but it’s not enough to drive him away. You turn to your side, facing him, and still asleep. Looking at you with peace unusually painted on your un-creased brows and parted mouth, the porch of your chest vulnerable and opened wide, Hoseok decides to drape himself onto you, to embrace and inhale the scent of you with his hands wound around you like the lover who’s capable to hold his love in his arms. He can only grant his heart some peace when you’re sleeping, all his wants and needs muddled in a plethora of affections he could only lay on your doorstep:

               I want to be your friend you can hopelessly fall in love with, the one you could take willingly into your arms, into your bed, into the world you keep to your head unvisited by anyone. I need to love you and know how to touch you – how I could make you stare at your pains in one of those sleepless nights and only feel my love supersede anything that is contrary.

               And Hoseok could only wait until you decide to bask in the daylight, to go out and pick up everything you need to know about him, you, and the both of you.

               Have you ever felt happy in something that you’re not supposed to want?

               You slowly opened your eyes, meeting his.

               He doesn’t need to think twice; the answer has always been clear. Loving you is something he has always wanted and needed. He’ll always be happy when it comes to you, regardless of conditions and conventionalities - he will be happy through and through, no second thoughts, no regrets. Just you and him, him and you. You don’t have to toss and turn anymore.

               Hoseok smiles. “Good morning, Y/N.”

               You return his smile, your hand in his hold squeezing his. “Good morning, Hoseok.”

               He would wait.

What are you doing?

Re-arranging the furniture.

Why so sudden?

It’s been a while since I gave my home a make-over.

View more songs in my masterlist

A/N | Hello hons! I experimented a new writing style for this and hmm, I’m not sure whether to be happy with it or not (everything feels too new!) Anyway, I liked the new experience! Hope you liked reading this!

BTW!!! I have 3 consecutive exams coming up this week (uni is killing me) so I may not be able to post your requests soon but be assured I’m working on them! (I’m actually already editing some of them as my breather in-between studying) I just don’t want to rush them because I want to give you guys a good content! :D So for the mean time, enjoy my following posts that I queued for these weeks that I will be freaking busy studying and writing papers :’D

All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. No reposts, modifications, and translations of content is allowed without direct permission.

[jennycalendar]

imperfections (59/?)

read it on ao3!!

the cliffhanger is resolved!! also, something y’all have been asking for happens!!!

If they’d been driving fast before, this was warp speed. Faith swore she could smell burning rubber as the car tore down the road, Jen’s knuckles white on the steering wheel. It should have taken them about ten minutes to get to Prescott Lane, but they made it there in four and a half, Jen pulling the car to another screeching stop up front.

“We’re here,” she said. She made no move to get out of the car.

“Okay,” said Faith slowly, and waited.

Jen turned to look at Faith. “You go fight the vampire,” she said. “I have some stuff I need to do.”

Faith stared. “What stuff?” she said disbelievingly. “Giles is in there and he’s in danger, and you’re just gonna drive off and—”

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” said Jen, and reached across the car to smooth down Faith’s hair. The love in her eyes was real, but there was something else there, something scary, and Faith didn’t like seeing it there. “I know you and Buffy are going to save him. You always do. I’m going to go handle the tough stuff.”

“I’m not getting out till you tell me what you’re gonna do,” said Faith, more than a little frightened by the level of crazy Jen was apparently operating at.

Jen’s soft little smile vanished. “Faith, time really is of the essence,” she said. “Buffy and Giles need your help, okay? I’m an adult, I can make my own choices—”

“You’ve never had to use that line on me before, Jen,” Faith persisted, a combination of misery and worry making her nauseous. “You always tell me what’s going down. Always. And if you’re not telling me right now, that either means that this shit has seriously fucked you up, or that you’re gonna do something that you know you shouldn’t do.” She considered. “Probably both. So—”

“It’s not—I know it’s not something I should do!” Jen shouted. “I know I shouldn’t but I have to because he’ll be out of town and as soon as Rupert’s safe I’m gonna lose my nerve and not—”

“And not?”

“And NOT GO AND MURDER QUENTIN TRAVERS,” Jen screamed, slamming her hands down on the car horn so hard Faith was pretty sure something broke.

Faith stared. “But you’re—you’re my not-watcher,” she said, aware of how small and childish her voice sounded. “You don’t kill—you’re not—Jen,” and then she did start crying. Not the half-restrained stuff of the kitchen: this was full-out sobbing the likes of which she hadn’t seen since that night at the factory. Because Giles was going to die and Jen was going to spontaneously combust and Buffy was going to be miserable and Xander was going to go back to his shitty dad and Willow to her shitty mom and her dumb, perfect little family was going to shatter into fragments and it was just going to be Faith, alone, all over again, alone alone always—

And now Jen was crying too, curling in on herself in a way that seemed painful and intensely private. Faith wanted to reach across the car to her, but didn’t know how to bridge the gap. Jen had always done that, before, and now—

Now it was Faith’s turn, she guessed. Leaning across the car, she pressed a hard kiss to Jen’s cheek. “I love you, Jen,” she said fiercely. “And you can kill Travers all you want when Giles is safe, but right now, we’re gonna get him back and we’re gonna yell at him a whole bunch for getting himself in trouble, okay? Stay here if you want, or come with me—it doesn’t matter, ‘cause I promise Buffy and I are gonna get him back.”

Jen stared at Faith like she was seeing her for the first time. Without a word, she reached out, squeezing Faith’s hand.

Faith squeezed back, then let go, clambering out of the car. Honestly, she was too fucking angry to be afraid of a master vamp right now. She was thinking about Giles, now, his soft eyes and his nice smile and the way he’d say well done, Faith when he proofread her English essays, and about the kind of a monster you had to be to put a guy like that in danger just to prove a point. She couldn’t bring herself to look back and see if Jen was following her, so she soldiered on ahead.

Buffy didn’t go looking for Kralik. Giles was her first priority, not some master vampire the Council had shipped over to try and kill her with, and so she moved carefully and stealthily until her Slayer-senses picked something up from a room on the second floor. Opening the door, she found Giles, tied to a chair, his shirt covered with blood and his throat cut.

And for a horrible, terrible moment, she stood there, grief hitting her like a sucker punch, but then Giles drew a rattling breath from the chair and Buffy burst into tears.

He was trying to say something, but couldn’t quite manage it. Buffy raced forward, forgetting about Kralik and the Cruciamentum and all the stuff in this house and just wrapping herself around Giles, hugging him tightly for a long moment. “I love you so much,” she sobbed. “Please be okay after this, Giles, please be okay, the Ice Capades are in two weeks and I am so not going without my Watcher there to complain about how much he hates it—”

“Actually,” said Giles very weakly, his voice all raspy and wrong, “I rather like the Ice Capades.”

Buffy was almost crying too hard to get the knots undone. “Don’t ever do that to me again!” she wailed. “I thought you were dead! Do you know how mad Ms. Calendar would be if she found out I got her boyfriend killed?”

There was a loud crash from outside, and Buffy jumped, instinctively positioning herself in front of Giles as the door to the room burst open. Kralik tumbled through, followed closely by Faith and Ms. Calendar, the latter of whom was wielding a mace and hammering it down on Kralik with clear intent to kill.

“That mad, probably,” said Giles.

“Stop talking,” said Buffy, tugging off her pajama top and pressing it to his throat to stop the bleeding. So much for flamingos, she thought.

Ms. Calendar landed a last blow with the mace, then shouted “STAKE,” in a frankly terrifying tone of voice. Hastily, Buffy tossed Mr. Pointy over her shoulder. Faith, who was holding Kralik down, caught it with her free hand, then handed it off to Ms. Calendar. She drove the stake home.

Kralik was dusted.

Ms. Calendar turned, saw Giles, and burst into tears, collapsing onto the floor. Faith assessed the situation, sat down next to Ms. Calendar, and hugged her very tightly, letting Ms. Calendar sob into her shoulder.

“At least this didn’t happen on my actual birthday, right?” said Buffy, sniffling. “That would have totally sucked.”

“Small mercies,” said Giles, and coughed up some blood.

“Stop talking,” said Buffy fiercely.

Everyone was crowded into the tiny waiting room. Buffy’s mom had very gracefully taken over taking care of Ms. Calendar, who was in a hysterical state the likes of which absolutely no one had seen her in before. She was currently crying incoherently into Buffy’s mom’s jacket, which really didn’t help create a hopeful atmosphere as they waited for news on Giles.

“He was talking, though,” said Faith, whose leather jacket was still covered in vamp dust. Willow reached out to help brush it off, and Faith gave her a small, tired smile. “Thanks, Will,” she said.

“It was a pretty clean cut,” Buffy agreed, sniffling. She was wearing her mom’s jacket over a lacy bra, pajama bottoms, and slightly bloodied bunny slippers, but seemed completely unbothered by the strangeness of her ensemble. “I think Kralik just wanted it to look like he was dead.”

At the word dead, Ms. Calendar started sobbing even harder, and Willow’s stomach twisted. Even during that awful summer with Buffy and Giles gone, even with all of her nightmares, Ms. Calendar had never, ever lost control in front of them, at least not intentionally. Quietly, she said, “So someone’s going to kill the Watchers’ Council, right?”

“Yeah,” said Buffy. “Definitely.”

As if on cue, the doors opened, and Quentin Travers entered, flanked by a beefy Council member on either side. Leveling a disapproving gaze at Buffy, he began, “Miss Summers—”

Ms. Calendar stopped crying. She stood up. Then, taking two neat steps forward, she stopped in front of Travers, pulled Buffy’s tiny dagger out of her purse, and stabbed him, hard, in the shoulder. Without waiting for him to react, she pulled the dagger back out. “Leave,” she said, “or next time that hits your heart.”

Travers reeled, clapping a hand to his shoulder, an expression of complete and total shock on his face.

“Did you not hear me?” said Ms. Calendar, her voice deadly. “He’s been through hell because of you, and I’m not just talking about tonight. You got into his head and you made him think that loving other people was something he would never get to have. I love that man and you made him afraid to love me back. No one should ever be afraid to love someone.”

“Ms. Calendar,” said Travers, sounding strangely infuriated for a guy who had just been stabbed in the shoulder.

In answer, Ms. Calendar raised the dagger again. “Do you think I’m kidding?” she asked. “I am really not kidding.”

“Jenny,” said Buffy’s mom, a note of warning in her voice.

But Travers looked again at Ms. Calendar, then nodded, eyes narrowed. “We will be sending a Watcher to replace Mr. Giles,” he said, “and to hopefully retrain at least one of your Slayers. As long as you cooperate with this Watcher, we will not—”

Willow saw it coming before anyone else did. Jumping up from her chair, she grabbed Ms. Calendar’s waist just as the dagger flew again, pulling Ms. Calendar back so that it stabbed the air. “Leave,” she added, holding tightly to Ms. Calendar’s waist and glaring at Travers as she did so. “We don’t negotiate with you guys.”

Travers took the hint. Pressing his handkerchief delicately to his shoulder, he left, the Council goons following him out.

Willow let go of Ms. Calendar’s waist and sat down, feeling a little nauseous. “New Watcher’s probably going to show up whether we want him or not,” she mumbled.

“Why did you stop me?” Ms. Calendar asked, her voice clipped.

Willow knew the answer to that one without having to think about it. “I know you wouldn’t regret stabbing him in the shoulder tomorrow,” she said, her voice wobbling. “You know, when Giles is alive and okay and you’re feeling a little less, uh, stabby. But even as terrible as that Council guy is, I know killing him would really mess you up. Killing anybody would mess anybody up.”

Ms. Calendar nodded a little jerkily and sat down, curling again into Buffy’s mom without a word. That felt weird. Usually it was Ms. Calendar making sure everyone else was okay, not everyone else making sure Ms. Calendar was okay, and Willow didn’t like the change. She didn’t like seeing funny, kind Ms. Calendar so angry and hurt.

The doctor then entered the waiting room, looking a little exhausted. “He’ll live,” she said upon seeing them. “He’s awake, if a little drugged up, but he can take visitors.”

Everyone looked to Ms. Calendar. “Yeah,” she said in a small voice. “Um, I’m his, his girlfriend, can I—”

The doctor stepped to the side, letting Ms. Calendar go ahead of her. Willow felt Faith’s shoulder bump hers, and reached out, grabbing Faith’s hand. Everyone cared about Ms. Calendar, but Faith was the only other one who got how Willow was feeling right now.

Faith squeezed her hand. “Chill out, Red,” she said, but now Willow knew her well enough to hear the genuine reassurance in the statement. “It’s all okay now.”

[1000scrubs]

Round 2: Corporeal Dread

Writer Corporeal Dread‘s entry for August 2021

William awoke to the pleasant sounds of birds, and dappled sunlight filtering through the thin white fabric of his bedroom curtains. He yawned and stretched his arms before untangling himself from his blankets. He blinked sleepily, stood and made his way to his washbasin. 

From a nearby drawer he retrieved a small box containing his most prized possession. He slid open the lid to reveal his toothbrush, it was still in fairly good shape as he had purchased it only two months prior; even so William thought to himself ‘I will need to replace it soon’. He brushed his teeth, and, after rinsing his mouth and face, admired himself in the mirror.

‘I must be the envy of the neighborhood’ he thought as he admired his handsome face and sparkling teeth. 

With a satisfied sigh he made his way to the kitchen to partake in the most important meal of the day. He prepared his usual breakfast of bacon and eggs with toast and a piping hot mug of black tea. As he ate William pondered over his activities for the day. He had been contracted for a job that needed to be completed before two thirty, so he decided he would centre his day around it.

After his bath William donned a well pressed suit and once again admired himself in the mirror. ‘Aren’t we looking dapper today?’ He internally preened.

As he was about to step outside the crinkling of paper stopped him in his tracks. Glancing down William saw a letter that had been slipped under his door. He picked it up and sat back at his table to read it.

“Dear Mr. William Jones,

I hope that this letter finds you well. 

I would like to arrange a meeting at the base of Saffron Hill at three o’clock this afternoon of February 28,1887.”

I am quite regretful to insist that this meeting must take place. Please leave your answer under a rock to the right of your door. I am afraid that if you do not leave your answer, or if that answer is no I will have to report some very sensitive information to the police. 

Here is a sample:

Your given name at birth was Thomas Brown

You are currently self employed as a murderer for hire

I know where you live.

I look forward to your response.

Yours sincerely,

F ”

William stared at the letter shocked, how could someone have gathered this much information on him?! He was always so careful!

He stood suddenly knocking his chair backward. What was he supposed to do, the choices weren’t exactly fair! Indignant, he kicked the overturned chair. He tore off the unused bottom portion of the letter and in his ugliest handwriting he scrawled “yes”. William crumpled the paper as tightly as he could then threw it to the ground and stomped it flat.

He snatched up his note and stashed it under the biggest, heaviest rock he could find to the right of his door, as specified by the letter. 

“I will play along for now, but you had better watch your back.” 

William contemplated staying to ambush his blackmailer, but he had to complete the job he had been hired for in an hour and a half. 

He began making his way to the London Bridge, along the way he kicked at the ground and any debris he came across when he thought about the letter.

_____________________

Once on the bridge William was delighted to find that the conditions were just right. The heavy fog that usually eclipsed the city was especially thick. He approached a man in a long black coat and top hat holding a wooden cane.

“Greetings my good sir! May I ask for the time?”

“Oh, hello. It’s no bother.” The man pulled a slightly scuffed gold pocket watch from his coat. It had simple embellishments around the edges, smooth from constant handling and the initials T.J.E. , “it’s quarter to two.”

William smiled amiably, “Thank you very much.” He stepped beside the man and craned his neck to look up and down the bridge, “My carriage is late.”

As the man began making polite conversation, William suddenly spun to face him and shoved as hard as he could, knocking the man off his feet, and over the side of the bridge. The man screamed as he plummeted into the river below, William heard him struggling to shout for help, but no one would be able to see him in the fog. William couldn’t even see anyone else on the bridge! The current was strong and would soon overcome the poor man.

“Another perfect job.” William thought, smiling, “Now for that other matter. Off to Saffron Hill.”

He walked down the bridge, this time with a little jaunt in his step and a smile on his face.

_____________________

As William got to the base of Saffron Hill he fished out his pocket watch and saw that it was two fifty. It had taken him just over an hour to walk from the bridge. He glanced around wondering who it was he was there to meet.

He observed the busy street while he waited. A group of dirty children played just down the road, running to and fro shouting and laughing, causing a ruckus. 

Very close by, a man with a cart was shouting, “Gelati, ecco un poco!” trying to sell his penny licks.

There were a lot of people walking on the road, but no one seemed to be paying him any attention. He checked his pocket watch again and was surprised to see that it was five minutes past three o’clock.

A young woman approached him suddenly, her cheeks slightly pink as she asked “Excuse me sir, would you like to get some ice cream with me?” 

William smiled politely and declined saying “I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m waiting for someone.” 

The woman’s face fell for a moment before she smirked at him.

“You can never do anything the easy way, can you?” 

“Excuse me?!” William was taken aback.

“William, I invited you here for ice cream.” The woman was smiling but her eyes were cold.

“I don’t understand, you blackmailed me into a meeting…to eat ice cream?”

“Yes, I plan on following through if you don’t. I will explain everything after.”

Utterly confused, William approached the man with the cart, “I would like one penny lick please.” he held out a penny for the man to take. 

Once he had received the little glass of ice cream he returned to the woman.

“Business has been going well for you hasn’t it?” She asked, gesturing for William to eat the ice cream.

He began to lick his ice cream after nodding in agreement.

“Did you ever wonder why that is?” She asked.

“No.” William answered incredulously. “Why?”

“You have been undercutting the market, offering discounts and trades to people who can’t afford it. It is a lovely altruistic gesture, however you have made your coworkers quite irate.”

William licked the last of his ice cream, “So you’re here to tell me to raise my prices?” he furrowed his brow trying to make sense of what the woman was saying.

“No.” she smiled slyly, “I’m here to kill you.”

William dropped his ice cream glass, as it hit the ground it shattered sending glass skittering across the flagstone. He grabbed his pistol from its holster, cocked it and pointed it at the woman’s chest.

She laughed and gestured to the ground,  “I’m not too keen on killing someone in our profession, so I leave it up to fate.” 

William huffed in frustration, why couldn’t this woman say anything plainly? 

“Did you pay the salesman to poison my ice cream?” he eyed the glass suspiciously.

“I didn’t have to. There were probably ten other people who ate out of that glass before you did, a quick swirl in that bucket of water before giving it to the next customer doesn’t sound very conscientious. They don’t even change out the water. If you die I’m sorry, and if you live, congratulations!!”

She clapped her hands together, “Well, not that I don’t like the pleasure of your company, but I have to go. Goodbye and good luck.” 

She spun around and walked into the gloom before William could even finish processing what she had said to him. He started the long walk home, nervous about the growing sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach unsure if it was due to the ice cream or the horrible news.

——-

Who: professional hitman

What: getting ice cream 

When: the morning of feb 28, 1887

Where: the streets of london

Why: they are being blackmailed

[553butterfly553]

The Dawn of Our Love - Feeling Realization: Camus

Arcadia was sleeping peacefully, was being the keyword. Loud pounding knocks on her door woke her at exactly 8:00 am. They startled her, nearly causing her to fall out of her bed. It instantly infuriated her and caused her to throw herself out of her warm and comfortable bed. She stomped to the door, as the pounding knocks continued, and threw open the door. She caught the evil hand that was doing the knocking so it didn't hit her face and instantly became even more annoyed when she saw who was the knocker.

"Do not touch me!" Camus tore his hand away from hers and glowered down at her. Arcadia just glared back up at him, possibly even more annoyed then him.

"Do not wake me up at 8 in the damn morning. I was having a great dream." Arcadia retorted before slowly calming down. She took a deep breath and then continued talking. "What is it you need Camus? Was there any particular reason for waking me up?" The shift in Arcadia's mood gave Camus an unsettled feeling, however, he chose to ignore it.

"We have work to do. From today on you will be my assistant. Get dressed in proper clothes and don't keep me waiting." Arcadia, instead of following his command, began to laugh hard. She needed to hold onto the door frame to remain standing as she nearly fell over laughing at the man's words. "What is your problem woman? Is there an issue with you becoming my assistant?"

"Oh, there's a problem alright, for you, because that's not happening," Arcadia informed the male as she instantly stopped laughing at his words.

"What do you mean?" Camus was furious over the woman's instant rejection of his demand.

"We're supposed to be working together. You know, to show we can get along so we can go back to working with our actual groups." Arcadia began to take a step back from the man as she grabbed onto her door. "So, we will work together. I'll get ready and you can wait right there." With that, the usually calm and respectful girl slammed the door in his face.

"How dare this woman..." Camus trailed off in this seething to swing around from the door and walk to the windows. He glared out of the windows at the beautiful spring landscape as he calmed down. Well, it was beautiful, but it just infuriated the icy man even further, as he wasn't completely fond of spring.

Inside her room, Arcadia got changed even though she only wanted to go back to sleep. She didn't get enough rest to be able to handle Camus, but she knew she needed to be professional or at least try to.

Arcadia paused in her changing to recall how Camus looked a few moments ago. She internally fangirled over how attractive he looked in his white suit. He might be an asshole, but he's a very attractive asshole. The female sighed to herself and finished getting ready. Once she was dressed she left her room slowly. She wondered if Camus had waited for her, and got her answer when the door was fully opened. He was standing at the window, still looking outside. He clearly didn't realize that she'd opened her door, so she quietly approached him and stood at his side to look out the window as well.

“It's beautiful out there, isn't it?” Arcadia inquired quietly to the beautiful man. He didn't show any signs of shock at her sudden appearance, which disappointed the girl a little bit. She wanted to see him show a face other than his usual cold mask or his fake gentleman mask.

“Yes, it is, however, I prefer summer. It's better weather to take long walks with Alexander.” Camus simply responded, not even looking at the girl at all. She raised an eyebrow and he clarified what he meant. "Alexander is my dog."

“You have a dog?” Arcadia lit up and turned to him happily. “I love animals. What kind of dog is it? Do you have any pictures?” Her eagerness threw Camus off guard, as she didn't seem like the type to freak out over something like that. Camus sighed to himself and pulled out his phone. He went to his camera's gallery and proceeded to show the happy female pictures of his dog.

“His name is Alexander and he is a Borzoi.”

“He's such a beautiful dog.” Arcadia was in awe of his canine. He looked so regal and it was clear that Camus and his dog had a lot in common.

“If you wish, after we go over our schedules and get our plans laid out, I can show him to you in person.” Camus didn't expect the huge smile to appear on the female's face nor the happy gasp that came from her.

“Seriously?”

“I suppose if you aren't annoying.” Arcadia nodded her head, so Camus continued talking. “Very well, we will go have breakfast and discuss our plans.” With that, the two walked off to one of the couches that mostly everyone goes to hang out at. Camus had his student, Cecil Aijima, bring him tea and snacks.It looked like the boy didn't want to be there, but it was clear that he had no choice.

“Um, Camus, do you think you have enough sugar in your tea yet?” Arcadia questioned horrified as the man put cube after cube of sugar in the tea. “It's more sugar than tea now.” He glared at the woman but stopped adding sugar to just stir it around.

“I enjoy sweet things.”

“I see...” Arcadia looked at the tea in front of her and tasted it. It wasn't sweet enough for her, so she added a bit of sugar to it before tasting it again. She deemed it worthy to drink, so she began to happily sip at it. Camus nibbled on some sweets which seemed to make him happy. Arcadia couldn't help but stare at the man and at first, he didn't realize she was staring until he noticed it out of the corner of his eyes. Her gaze was locked on him and a pleasant expression was on her face.

“What makes you think you can stare at me?” Camus suddenly demanded, shocking the white-haired girl. She didn't realize he had seen her as he was still looking down at his tea and sweets. However, her shock turned to annoyance since he just broke the beauty with his arrogant words.

“You know, it's a real shame that such a beautiful being has to have such a shit personality.” Arcadia took another sip of her tea, ignoring the nearly audible sound of snapping as Camus' head turned instantly to glare at her. The small chuckling from Cecil didn't help Camus' anger at all either. The boy was a safe distance away and was hiding so the two didn't realize he was still there until his chuckling.

“How dare you woman, do you think you can speak to me in such a way?” He was seething and looked extremely furious.

“Actually I do think I can. You aren't my master and you sure as hell aren't my friend. If you treat me with absolutely no respect, then you get none from me.” Arcadia simply informed the man. Her voice held a venomous tone to it. “I'm not some little weak-willed woman like Nanami is, therefore I won't put up with any of your attitude towards other people.” Her sudden outburst of rudeness honestly made Camus angry, but also confused. She was kind one second and eager to meet his dog, but then the next she was going off on him. Even the look on her eyes changed along with her personality.

“You have a split personality, am I correct?” Camus noted once he'd calmed down his initial anger towards the woman. “I heard about it from Kotobuki, but I didn't believe him. I needed more information to come to a decisive conclusion about your personality, or personalities I should say.”

“Are you saying you pissed me off on purpose?”

“Such a vulgar way to put it, but yes.”

“Listen here you son of a...” Camus raised his hand to stop her, which actually made her reach out and smack his hand away.That earned her a glare from the regal man, but she ignored it.

“Do you wish to see Alexander now?” That single sentence changed the whole subject and shut the angry woman up. Her anger was replaced by a huge smile on her face.

“Yes, where is he?”

“Come with me.” Camus stood up and motioned for the girl to follow him, which of course she did. He led her to his car where his driver was waiting. He informed her that they were going to his apartment to get his dog and go for a walk. He had originally just wanted to have the person who was taking care of his dog to just bring him back to the dorms for the girl to see. However, he'd upset the girl and, not that he'd admit it, he wanted to make it up to her.

Once they were dropped off in front of the building where his apartment was, Camus led Arcadia to his door. It was at the top and was a penthouse that was clearly elegant and beautiful. It annoyed the girl that he lived somewhere so nice, but let it go when his dog approached them. He seemed annoyed to see Arcadia with his master and was cold to her for a while. It took a bit to get Alexander to warm up to the girl, and she was thrilled over it. Once the dog accepted being around the white-haired girl, Camus hooked him to his leash and the group took off.

Camus led them to a local park and spent over a half hour wandering around in almost silence. Once they reached a little meadow, Camus decided to sit on a bench to rest as Alexander wandered around in the meadow by himself. It was clear that the two had been there a few times before. Arcadia, feeling tired from the long walk, sat down next to the man and turned to face him.

“Thank you for this, Camus. I don't really get out much since I really don't like people or anything, so this has been a really nice time.” Arcadia informed the man with a soft smile on her face.

“If you don't like people, why are you an idol?”

“My parents sent me here because I was too quiet. I like singing enough that I'm able to overcome my shyness for a little while, but... other than that...” Arcadia trailed off and looked over to where the dog was sniffing flowers and bugs. Camus became interested in her explanation and turned to look at her. “I didn't care about all of this at first, but then I saw someone's performance and was captivated by them. So I guess that's why I'm still here being an idol.”

“I see, who was so captivating?” Camus knew full well who she was talking about. She was honest to a fault and had already told a few people of STARISH at one point and she knew someone had told him.

“Don't be smug you jackass.” Arcadia glared at the now smirking man. She huffed and got up to go over to his dog, but was stopped by Camus' voice.

“Wait.” She turned to look at him annoyed. “You dislike who I am, correct?”

“Your personality is vile.”

“Then why not try to get to know me, the version of me under all of that?” His suggestion made Arcadia frown, but she sat down anyway.

“I thought you had no interest in getting friendly with people outside of work.”

“I also have no interest in dealing with your personality changes, so if you and I get along better, I can avoid that.”

“Well then, what do you like to do?” Arcadia asked after a moment of thinking.

“I enjoy riding my horse, fencing and ice skating.”

“Oh really? That's interesting. I don't really have any experience with horses or fencing, but I have skated... kinda. Are you any good at ice skating? I'm terrible and can't even stand up on skates, to be honest.”

“I am quite good at skating. I could give you some tutoring on ice skating someday.” His response made Arcadia laugh and nod her head.

“That'd be nice.” Camus was going to respond to her, however, Alexander approached them, seemingly wanting to go home now. The two agreed that they needed to go back to Camus' penthouse to drop off Alexander and then go back to the dorms to finally go through their schedules. Once that was done, they enjoyed tea and some sweets together before parting ways and going about the rest of their day.

Arcadia was happy she finally got to see who Camus was, even past the cold nature he had in his actual personality. She knew that she would be able to look past his arrogant tendencies and possibly be his friend. It made her extremely happy to think that she was going to be working closely with her crush, but she was worried about how he felt about her.

However, her worries were pointless, as Camus was beginning to realize something. He had never been spoken to in the ways that Arcadia spoke to him. Her bravery in her speech to him had caused something to change in his feelings for her. At first, he didn't care about her existence at all, but his feelings changed the first time she insulted him. He was shocked at her informal and crude way of speaking, however, it intrigued him.

He didn't know what the feeling was, but from what he read in magazines, it was the feeling of attraction. Camus knew he was starting to have an attraction to the woman, which concerned him, but also made him look forward to seeing her again to see what would come of it. He knew she had a crush on him, so he was confident that if he found out he truly felt something for her, she wouldn't reject him. Not that he thought any woman would reject him in the first place.