#and that part where he gets off the boat without a second thought and stands as a human-bridge for her to get on??? PEAK ROMANCE

[lord-rain-master]

the only thing i will say about baahubali 2 is that the ost slaps

[steddiealltheway]

Steve lays in his bed with thoughts of Eddie in the boathouse. For some reason, he wants to go to him. Hell, he knows he probably can't sleep, and they need him as well rested as they can so he can stay on alert through this whole hunt the freak thing.

Plus, a small part of him knows what it's like to be stuck with your thoughts late at night after dealing with the Upside Down shit. And it's not pleasant. Especially alone.

Another part of him knows that Dustin would never be okay if something happened to Eddie after they told him things would be fine.

But things will be fine. Especially if Steve goes to the boathouse and keeps watch for part of the night.

He throws on some more layers and grabs a protein bar for Eddie before driving that way, trying not to get too weirded out by the concept of him hanging out with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

Hopefully this time he won't be threatened with that damn broken bottle.

He pulls up a little ways away from Reefer Rick's place and parks before grabbing his nail bat and creeping his way to the shed. He rounds the side toward the door and knocks lightly, whisper yelling, "Eddie! It's Steve! Open up!"

He waits a few moments before sighing and raising his voice. "I'm opening the door. Just don't kill me."

He slowly opens the door, glancing around the boathouse and finding it empty. He glances at the tarp over the boat and sighs, "Eddie, I know you're under there. It's just me."

The tarp shifts slightly, and Steve stares up at the ceiling in annoyance. "Okay, I get it. You don't trust me, and you have no reason to really. But we both know Dustin would kill me if I ever attempted to hurt you or turn you in. Plus, I know you're innocent, so I'm just going to stay here until you come out." He pauses before adding on, "I'll even hum so you know where I am."

He starts humming the first song that comes to mind which ends up being "Everybody Wants to Rule the World."

The tarp shifts and Steve watches as Eddie slowly reveals himself, bottle in hand, pointed at Steve. His eyes flicker to the bat in Steve's hand.

Steve stops humming. "It's for your safety," he says, lifting it up a little.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, and Steve gets the message before he drops the bat and raises his hands in surrender.

Eddie nods at him. "What's in your hand?"

Steve glances up and tosses the protein bar at Eddie. "Food," he says as Eddie curses, failing to catch the bar.

Steve takes a step closer but Eddie holds out the bottle to him and stands up. "Why are you here?"

"To make sure you're safe."

He looks unconvinced.

Steve shrugs and crosses his arms. "Okay, I know what it's like trying to process all this shit on your own, and it sucks, man. I didn't have anyone with me the first night after everything went down, and I didn't think I would make it through the night without that thing coming back."

"So what? You're here to help the freak with no ulterior motive, and I'm supposed to believe that?"

"You can tell me to leave, but I don't really want to spend the night alone either," Steve confesses, hoping that it will help Eddie trust him a bit.

Eddie only stares at him for a few moments before leaning out of the boat to pick up the bat before sitting down and picking up the protein bar. He unwraps it and bites off half of it before asking, "Tears for Fears, really?"

It takes a second for Steve to really understand what Eddie's asking before he smiles slightly. "That's what you're worried about?"

Eddie shrugs, taking around his mouthful, "I was just wondering if you really thought that's the type of music I'm into."

"It's the first song that came to mind. But no. I know you're into that metal stuff that Mike's been going on about." Steve takes a tentative step forward, watching the way Eddie's eyes follow the step.

He raises his eyebrows when Eddie glances up at him and shifts a bit before gesturing to the spot in front of him. Steve takes the invitation and sits in front of him, shifting a bit around the boat before grimacing.

"I bet you're missing your bed," Eddie comments as he finishes off the bar, dropping the wrapper in the boat before grabbing his broken bottle again. Luckily this time, he doesn't point it in Steve's direction.

"A bit," Steve confesses as he fails to get comfortable. He wishes he could take Eddie back to his home and maybe even give him the guest bedroom so he doesn't have to stay here.

Wait.

Steve glances up to where Eddie is tightly gripping the handle of his bat and the neck of the broken bottle and slowly reaches out his hand, asking for the bat. As Eddie hands it over reluctantly, Steve says, "Why don't you stay at my house for now? No one would guess you would be there."

Eddie snorts and shakes his head. "I'm not risking you getting caught with me."

"Well, it's too late for that." Steve says before circling back a bit to ask, "Why?"

Eddie shrugs and glances down at the bottle. "Because Dustin would kill me."

Steve sighs and lays the bat on the side of the boat. "You can hide in the back of my car on the drive there. It'll be easy to sneak you in."

"And your parents?"

"Gone for the foreseeable future. And even if they do come back, I can hide you in my closet or something."

Eddie shoots him a look. "Comfortable."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Eddie glances around the boathouse. "I don't mind staying here at the moment."

Steve's not sure why he wants to fight him on it so bad, but he gives in and says, "Just consider it after we've killed Vecna and we're going through the whole clearing your name process, okay?"

"Why?"

The question takes Steve off guard, but he easily deflects saying, "Because Dustin would kill me."

Eddie nods and looks off, getting that same far-off haunted look on his face. Before Steve can attempt to distract him Eddie snaps out of it asking, "And if someone comes here now, how will you explain why you're here?"

Steve glances around and looks at the windows and door. "Okay, maybe we should get under the tarp before that happens."

Eddie stares at him. "You want to get cozy with me in this boat?"

"I want to save both of our asses for now. If we hear something, we stay hidden, and if they come inside, we grab the bat and bottle and we attack." Get cozy with him?

Eddie sighs, "Can't wait," before shifting to sit next to Steve, placing his bottle carefully down toward the end of the boat before grabbing the tarp.

Steve shifts the bat, nails side at the end of the boat and shifts to lay back.

Eddie glances down at him and asks, "Ready?"

Steve nods as Eddie pulls the tarp over them and lays back. In the process, he ends up jostling Steve and shifting him to the side, almost getting his leg stabbed by the bat as Eddie curses about the bottle. They both shift to face each other, quickly noticing that they're around the same height with the way their feet are knocking into each other their breath is mingling together.

It is very weirdly intimate.

"Steve?" Eddie asks.

Steve hums in response.

"Maybe we should pull the tarp back until we hear something."

"Great plan," Steve says quickly, reaching up to pull the tarp back a bit.

There's a bit of moonlight shining through the windows which illuminates Eddie's face enough for Steve to be able to admire him. Steve blames the intimate position for his thoughts about how Eddie "The Freak" Munson is kind of beautiful.

Eddie's eyebrows furrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Steve quickly looks away and lies, "Just thinking."

"About?"

Steve takes a moment and readjusts a bit. "Just never thought I would be hanging out with you."

Eddie shifts as well, accidentally brushing his hand against where Steve's own hand lies between them. Eddie's hand shoots back to his chest. "if it makes you feel better, I wouldn't call this hanging out. We're just two people who are linked through some supernatural shit with parallel worlds and are trying to keep each other alive so Dustin doesn't kill us." He lets out a slow deep breath through his nose and glances away. "It doesn't have to mean anything. Trust me, I know you wouldn't be here unless you had to be."

Steve lets the feeling of regret run through him. "That's not what I meant."

"No?" Eddie challenges him.

"No," Steve confesses. "Dustin didn't ask me to come here, you know."

"So, you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart?" Eddie asks, tone dripping with disbelief.

"I didn't want you to be alone."

"Yeah, you said that before."

Steve's eyebrows furrow. "And?"

"And I'm sorry if I have trouble believing it."

Steve just blinks at him, unsure what to say other than his usual apology for being an asshole in high school.

Eddie beats him to it and sighs, "You're just... Steve Harrington. And I'm 'The Freak.'"

Steve can't help but snarkily reply, "I didn't realize that was your legal name."

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. "You know what I mean."

As much as he hates it, Steve does understand what he means. He looks him in the eye and says, "You know if I could go back and change how I was in high school, I would. Because, trust me, being 'King Steve' was not all that it was chalked up to be. And everyone I love still sees me that way. It's like they're waiting for that guy to come back or something because they're always in disbelief that I've changed or whatever. It's all just... bullshit." He sighs out the word, trying not to think too hard about understanding what Nancy meant when she called him it.

Eddie continues to stare at him, eyes wandering over his face as if he's trying to make his own assessment of him. Or as if he's waiting for the real Steve to pop out, the inevitable asshole. Instead, he just says, "You're different than I imagined."

"Is that a good thing?" Steve can't help but ask.

"Give me a business day or two, and I'll get back to you about it," Eddie says with a smile.

The response startles a laugh out of Steve which he quickly covers with his hand before he rests it in the space between them. "Maybe you're different, too."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks.

"I thought you'd be way less willing to accept my presence here."

Eddie shrugs the shoulder he isn't laying on. "Well, being alone seemed to be slightly more appalling than spending time with you." He smiles and nudges him with his foot. "I'm joking. At least, now I'm joking."

Steve rolls his eyes and nudges Eddie with a little too much force, sending them both off balance and causing Steve to end up a bit sprawled out on top of Eddie who stares up at him with wide eyes.

For some reason, the new angle really does something for Steve who can only think of kissing Eddie. He leans back and takes a deep breath before an idea strikes him. He blames his tired, anxiety-ridden mind on the reason for voicing his thought, "You know, I can think of a better way to explain why I'm here if someone comes in."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, face carefully blank but a heavy swallow gives him away.

Steve shrugs. "Who is to question King Steve hooking up with some random girl in Reefer Rick's empty boathouse?"

"Christ," Eddie mumbles out, eyes flicking down to Steve's lips. "Are you suggesting we...?"

Steve looks down at him innocently. "I mean, if it comes down to it, I would be down to kiss you. Your hair is long enough to hide your face," he turns to the door and windows, "And from this angle, they would barely catch a glimpse of you."

Eddie swallows again and breathes out, "You're definitely not what I thought you'd be like."

"And is that-"

"A good thing?" Eddie finishes for him. "Yeah, I would say it is definitely a good thing."

Steve smiles down at him and is about to shift off of him when there's a sudden noise outside of the boathouse. He feels Eddie freeze beneath him.

"Steve... I know it was probably a joke, but either cover us with the tarp or kiss me," Eddie whispers quickly.

Steve reaches out for the tarp and pulls it over their heads, noticing the slight look of disappointment on Eddie's face before the tarp blocks out the light. His hands reach out, landing on Eddie's chest before trailing up to cup his jaw.

"What are you doing?" Eddie whispers. Steve can feel his heart thudding in his chest impossibly faster at the sensation.

"Why not do both?" Steve whispers into the air between them.

He waits as Eddie's own hands come up to his shoulders, tracing their way into Steve's hair. "Both. Yeah. Both are good."

Steve's not sure who moves first, but their kiss is frenzied, filled with the anxiety of Hawkins crumbling around them along with the possibility of Eddie being caught, mixed with the fact that they're "The Hair" and "The Freak." And this is not supposed to be happening.

But Steve doesn't care. He deepens the kiss, groaning when Eddie tugs at his hair and pulls him closer. God, Steve can practically feel the kiss go through his full body, and he can't remember the last time a kiss made him feel like this.

The air around them under the tarp gets warmer as the kiss goes on, and Steve finds himself breaking away for air only to chase Eddie's lips again. It's all intoxicating. And the warm air makes it feel like he isn't getting enough air as Eddie practically sucks it out of him.

He breaks away and gasps, "God, I want to lift the tarp, but I can't risk anyone seeing you."

Eddie doesn't answer, he just pulls the tarp slightly off them before pulling Steve into another kiss. Steve can barely register the relief of the cool air hitting the back of his damp neck as he gets lost in Eddie.

"Can't see me remember?" Eddie says against Steve's lips.

"They can- mmm. See the rings," Steve manages to get out.

Eddie's hands slowly drift down Steve's back, resting on the dip of his spine that's still under the tarp. "Better?"

Steve pulls back and looks down at Eddie, his mouth pink and damp, cheeks flushed red, pupils blown wide. "God, you're beautiful," Steve says without thinking.

Eddie stares at him for a moment, face carefully blank before he glances at the window. "Do you think they're still here?"

Steve glances out the window and debates what to say next. He settles with the truth. "I'm pretty sure it was just a branch that hit the window."

Eddie nods and worries his bottom lip, not looking at Steve. He's still struggling to catch his breath, but Steve can't say much when he is equally as winded.

Steve pauses and says, "But maybe someone's out there. Or..." He shakes his head, trying not to finish the thought out loud.

"Or what?" Eddie asks.

"Or maybe I just want to kiss you again," Steve confesses.

Eddie looks up at him and pauses, eyes searching Steve's face for something. He glances toward the window and says, "I can't exactly be on high alert if you kiss me again, but..." he glances at Steve and finishes his thought, "I think it's worth the risk."

"If you really think about it, it's more risky if I stop kissing you."

Eddie tilts his head in confusion. "And why's that?"

"Because I'll only be able to think about kissing you again and won't be on high alert," Steve flirts easily. "And really, it's a great cover."

Eddie smiles and even momentarily laughs. "You're so full of shit," he says, but pulls Steve down to him, kissing him again with the same frenzied energy.

Only, Steve pulls away and winks at him. "We've got all night. We can take it slow."

"I think you're going to kill me."

Steve brushes a strand of hair out of his face. "And is that-"

"A good thing?" Eddie finishes for him again. "Yes," he answers, kissing Steve again but slowly, taking his time with him.

It's fair to say that Steve's original plan of keeping watch and letting Eddie sleep goes out the window, but he's pretty sure it's worth it.

It's definitely worth it.

[boredmadamoiselle]

You don't even have to ask

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Synopsis: After the qualifying at the Grand Prix of Monaco, you look for Charles to give him comfort... and in search of his forgiveness.

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. English isn't my first language, so it probably contains some mistakes. I tried my best but if you want to correct or help me, you are welcome.

Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is always appreciated and is important for me. If you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to write them and I will take into consideration. 

The sun had already set and the moon had taken its place lighting up the dark sky above you. 

As you approached the port, you could hear the music from downtown getting more and more distant. Absolute silence reigned in the port, it was just you, the sea and the many boats docked. Everyone, except one person, was celebrating. And you knew, or at least you hoped, you’d find him on his yacht. Away from everyone and everything, probably lost in his thoughts and thinking back to what had happened just a few hours ago. 

Once again, in fact, Ferrari and Charles’ team had screwed his race, jeopardizing his victory and proving to be incompetent. Although they were the ones who made the mistake, Charles would pay once again the consequences, just when for the first time he had had the chance to get on the podium in Monaco. That was the thing that pissed you off more. 

Even though you were on a break, you couldn’t help it but support him. Because in the end and despite everything that had happened between you in the last months, you loved him. You still wanted him to win and be happy. But instead, he was struggling once again. 

Charles ran to win every race but Monaco was different, it was special. It was his home race, the place where he had grown up and lived. 

He loved Monaco, its people and he wanted them to love him equally, to make them proud. That was the reason why he wanted to win… for them. The thing was that they already loved him… or at least you did. You loved him more than everything else and seeing him sad broke your heart. After you had tried to call him and had received no answer, you had decided to go find him and see for yourself how he was. You wanted to comfort him, but you were also dying to see him and have him a few meters from you after weeks away, to hold him in your arms. You would have told him that everything would be fine. Even among you. 

The break had been your idea and Charles, even though he didn’t like the idea, had agreed. He loved you and he knew that being in a relationship with him, always under the spotlight wasn’t easy, that sometimes it could be a little suffocating. So, he had let you go with the hope that you would return to him sooner or later. You were now as you had thought enough. Being with him wasn’t easy for sure but being without him was even more difficult. Those weeks apart from him had strengthened your feelings for Charles. 

You needed him just like he needed you. Those weeks, those days must not have been easy for Charles and your distance must have made everything worse. Part of you felt guilty for not being there for him. 

His yacht was for both of you your second home, your refuge. Whenever he could, Charles would come and take the yacht out to sea. As he wanted to stay alone with his thoughts during those moments, he almost never allowed anyone to accompany him, except you. You were always welcome. Would you have been even now? Did he still love you? These questions had been nagging you all along the way. 

You got on the yacht and it didn't take you long before you saw him. He was standing with his back to you and looking up at the sky. You were approaching him when the sound of his voice instantly paralyzed you. 

“I said I wanted to be alone.” 

You could hear the sadness dripping and it broke your heart. You wanted to run to him but you were unable to move. Would he have appreciated that? Were you welcome? As he had his back still turned, he had no idea it was you.

“Does that apply to me too?”, you asked, scared of being rejected. Your voice made Charles instantly turn around as he realized who you were. 

His face immediately lit up upon seeing you just a few feet away from him. But you could still see the sadness in his eyes. 

“Y/N…”

“I just wanted to see how you were… you know after everything that happened, but if you prefer being alone, I can…” 

He didn't let you finish the sentence. “You know there is always room for you on board”, he said smiling. 

You smiled back. You were tired of that distance between you, it was time to fill it. You approached him filling the gap between you. Now you were inches away from him. 

“Even in your arms? Because I think a hug would do you so much good”, you said.

Without answering, he reached out to you and wrapped his strong arms around your shoulders and back. 

“You don’t even have to ask”, he whispered burying his head into your neck. 

You tucked your head into the curve of his neck and wrapped your arms around his waist. The contact with his body sent a shiver through you. It was like the air was taken from you as you melted onto him and your eyes began to fill with tears. You could feel he was crying too as a slight wetness was soaking your blouse. 

Charles sighed as he felt immediately lighter between your arms, relieved. After all those weeks of being away from you, Charles felt he could start breathing again. Without you by his side and with all the pressure leading up to his home race, he had felt like he had been drowning for the past weeks. You were his anchor, the one who kept him afloat when everything else was failing. You had arrived just in time to rescue him. 

You hugged in silence for a few minutes. Words weren't necessary, at least not now. Your hearts beating wildly, in unison with each other spoke for you. That was enough.  

After a while, you broke the silence. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really, not now that you are here with me… That's all that matters now, I don’t care about anything else”, he whispered.  “But there is one thing you could actually do for me.”

You pulled away gently and looked into his eyes, your faces inches apart, noses touching and his hands still on your hips. 

“What is it?” You were feeling a mixture of curiosity and fear as you were waiting for him to talk. 

Charles placed his forehead on yours. 

“Would you stay here with me tonight?”

You closed your eyes and sighed, part of you feeling relieved at his words. 

“You don’t even have to ask”, you simply said. 

His lips curved into a smile satisfied by your answer. His hands cupped your cheeks, as he slowly leaned in and placed his lip onto yours. Your spare hand gripped his shirt gently, pulling him closer until you were pressed against each other. You needed to feel him. But first you needed to do something else. 

With your hands on his chest, you took a step behind leaving Charles confused and visibly worried. 

“I’m sorry, Charles, for everything. I should have been there for you, especially knowing how difficult it would have been today…”

He took your hands in his and placed his forehead on yours. “Shhhh… You are here now and that’s enough for me. Tomorrow, if we want, we will talk about us but for now I just want to hold you in my arms. No racing, just us. Me and you. Okay?” 

You nodded and let out a small whisper “I think it’s perfect”.  And you kissed again.

 

A few weeks later you were back on the yacht, Charles had taken you on a date.  

Between Charles’ arms and rocked by the sound of crashing waves, you were staring at the starry sky and enjoying the silence away from the city.

“I’ll be right back”, he whispered into your ear and pulled gently apart from you. 

You kept looking at the starry sky when a streak of light crossed the sky and then immediately vanished. 

“Look, Charles! A falling star!”, you screamed and turned around to face Charles. 

You were speechless and couldn’t believe your eyes. 

Charles was in front of you... on his knees. He was holding a small velvet box with a diamond-set ring inside. And it wasn't just any ring but the one that Hervé, Charles' father, had given to his mother when he had proposed to her.

You put a hand in front of your mouth trying to hold back the emotion and the tears. 

“Charles…” 

“Y/n, a few weeks ago I asked you if you would stay with me for the night. Now I ask you, would you stay with me a little longer?”

Tears streamed down your face as you weren't able to hold them back anymore.

“Forever, Charles”, you finally said. “You don’t even have to ask.” 

[writingreadinglurkingandsmirking]

Is Your Secrets - Sarah Cameron x Reader

Dear Reader Duology: Part 1, Part 2

Summary: For 16 days Sarah has absolutely no explanation as to where you are. She knows, but not from you. And it's killing her. The uncertainty of what she's done to your relationship and where you both stand is killing her. And when you finally make it back home? You both have to face down the future of your relationship and what that will look like.

Word Count: 5.2k+

TWs/CWs: She/her pronouns used, adult/profane language, descriptions of relationship issues/relationship deterioration, mentions of hospice/a funeral (not extensive or central), making up from a relationship, not fully flushed out

Note: Lmaooooo I didn't feel like waitinggggggggg! Part 2 of the Sarah Cameron installment of the Dear Reader duology series I have going on here on Tumblr. Happy pride: go lesbians, go. Again, if I'm lucky I'll get Kie's out before pride month is over.

“What the hell? Where is my girlfriend?” Sarah demanded when JJ and Kiara emerged from the trees without you. Both had grim looks on their faces and Sarah had a spinning anxiety threatening to take out her legs. She watched as the couple exchanged a glance and her eyes hardened almost immediately into a glare. She folded her arms tightly across her chest. “This isn’t funny. Where is she?”

“She…had to leave, Sarah,” Kie said eventually.

“What?” Sarah asked.

“She’s having a family thing. It’s…bad,” JJ said.

“What the fuck are you talking about? No, she didn't, she would’ve told me,” Sarah said defensively.

“She just got the text, Sar. Right before she ran off,” Kie explained.

“No. She would’ve had me take her. What are you even saying?” she asked.

JJ went to reply but Kiara grabbed her boyfriend’s arm squeezing it, as if in warning. It didn’t go unnoticed by Sarah, but she didn’t get why. She shook her head and turned towards John B. He nodded encouragingly, smiling and patting her shoulder.

“Go call her and see what’s up,” he encouraged.

Offering him a smile of thanks she walked off, dialing your number within moments and holding it to her hair. It rang once…twice…a third time…a fourth time…then? It was sent to voicemail. Sarah bit her lip, immediately worried.

“Hey, baby? What’s up? Where did you go? Are you okay? Kie said you have a family thing going on,” she said, drumming her nails against her leg. “I’m worried. Call me back okay? Just let me know what you need so I can help you.”

She hung up and walked back over to her friends. “Did she answer?” Cleo asked.

“No,” Sarah said, shaking her head.

Cleo sighed and got up. “I’ll try to call her,” she assured Sarah before walking off.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Sarah,” Pope offered. “She just has to deal with her family stuff. You know she’s not just gonna run on you.”

Sarah turned her head over towards Cleo who glanced back in Sarah’s direction. She shook her head and lowered the phone. Obviously, you hadn’t answered, then. Sarah’s hands sat on her hips and she started drumming her fingers more insistently. She took out her phone after a few seconds of thought and started firing off a series of texts to you.

Hey, where did you go?? JJ and Kie said something’s wrong?? Why aren’t you answering??

I love you, baby. Just call me back please.

I just wanna know that you’re okay. You don’t even have to tell me what’s wrong.

I’m supposed to be there for you, peach.

For a moment, Sarah paused and looked up at her friends. “What did she say was wrong?” Sarah asked.

Again, Kie stopped JJ from speaking. “She didn’t say anything. She showed us the text she got,” Kie explained. “Her aunt’s collapsed. It looks like she’s…potentially not gonna make it this time…”

“Shit,” Sarah hissed before taking her phone out, trying to call you again. Again, you did not answer. She left another message. And with that, she started firing off another round of texts.

Kie just told me your aunt collapsed. Do you need me to get us over to the mainland tomorrow? Are you going on the last boat? Do you want me to come? What’s up? What do you need? I don’t want to overwhelm you I just know how hard this is.

So just tell me what you need, okay?

I love you. I wanna support you.

I can be there by the morning. Just say the word. You know I’d do anything for you, right?

Sarah made a final attempt to call. This time she didn’t bother to leave another voicemail when there was no answer. She looked over at Kie, face pleading for some answer that she knew well that her friend could not provide. Or would not even if she could do it. She looked back down at her phone, shaking her head, firing off a few more texts.

My love, you’re scaring me. I hate to think that you’re out there overwhelmed like this and that you’re alone.

Please talk to me, peach.

“Sarah,” Kie said cautiously. “She just texted me.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. She hated the sound of that and the nervous energy that filled her at that. “What did she say?” Sarah asked, worried.

Kie didn’t say anything, instead, she simply held the phone out for Sarah to read. So, Sarah had to read the text with her own two eyes. She had to come to terms with the fact that she saw that this was what you said. She had to acknowledge that this was what you meant.

Tell her not to come.

It felt like a ton of bricks had been dropped into her stomach and fell all the way to her feet. “Hey,” Pope said optimistically. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“Right,” John B said automatically, nodding in agreement. “Probably just gonna be crowded at the hospital with her aunt. Less to worry about. Nothing about you, Sarah. She’s crazy about you.”

Cleo and Kie exchanged a look and Kie swatted at JJ as he made a noise. “What, JJ?” Sarah asked, overly defensive immediately.

“Nothing, Sarah. Just try to understand that her aunt is dying. Of course, she doesn’t need to worry about you. But we should be worried about her, shouldn’t we?” he posed, voice dripping disdain even as he kept his face neutral.

Despite the urge to snap back at him, Sarah knew that it was largely just her anxiety tempting her towards it. She simply squeezed her hip with one hand and gripped her phone with the other. She offered a curt nod. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “I’m gonna head back though and see if she went to our apartment first.”

“Sarah…she didn’t,” Kie said, sounding like she hated even saying it. “She’s on the ferry already. Heading over. Just…give her a little space right now. She’ll reach out when she’s ready. Give her a break. It’s been…hard.”

“What are you saying? What has been hard?” Sarah asked, looking suspiciously at Kiara.

“Look, Sarah. Let’s take you home,” John B said, clapping her on the shoulder. “You are way too worried about this right now. You need to decompress. You’re not gonna do that here.”

Sarah offered him a scathing glare. “I need to know if my girlfriend's okay,” Sarah retorted.

“No, you need to listen to Kie and give your girlfriend a damn chance to get through this. And she wants to do it without you right now. And you need to respect that,” JJ said bluntly, ever willing to push her buttons regardless of how painful it might be to do so.

“And we’re done here,” Kie said with fake cheer, clapping JJ’s shoulder before beginning to bodily drag him away. She threw a final look back at Sarah and a last piece of advice. “Just give her a bit. She’ll be back when her family's stuff's set.”

Regardless of what Sarah wanted, she knew that she had no other choice. She knew that her friends were right, whether more softly presented like Kie or more harshly presented like JJ. So, when she went home again, to an empty bed that should’ve had you sleeping beside her, warm and safe, she was determined to be patient. You’d reach out when you needed her. And you did. You did need her. At least…she hoped you did. Suddenly, she felt swept over by a tidal wave of doubt as she sat alone in your shared apartment.

Sarah was not unaware that she hadn’t been the best version of herself with you for the past month. No, she was entirely aware that this was the worst girlfriend she’d ever been to you. And she hated herself for it. But she truly, truly felt like she had to. After all, as much as she often…hated her brother…hated everything about the way he acted and the person he portrayed himself to be…the last conversation they’d had together had left an impact. Something that she had no doubt he’d be delighted to know.

“You know, you’re a lot more like me than you’d like to admit, Sarah. A lot more like Dad. It’s about time that you stop lying to yourself that you’re some normal little good girl, isn’t it? We’re all adults now,” Rafe had sneered on their monthly call that both of them hated, yet neither seemed to be able to stop.

“You’re a crazy, possessive dick, Rafe,” she’d pointed out, with her teeth grit. “I’m nothing like you. And I’m not some selfish…clingy asshole like Dad, either.”

Rafe had chuckled on the other end of the phone and something about the sound had set her teeth on edge. “Oh that’s so sweet that you think so,” he had cooed sarcastically. “But you should take a look at the way you treat that little girlfriend of yours before you start running your mouth over who acts possessive and crazy…or selfish and clingy. You want that girl to be about you 24/7 and if she isn’t you got a problem with it.”

Sarah rolled her eyes at her brother. “Yeah, no. I don’t think it’s weird that I’m excited to be with my girlfriend actually. Some of us are emotionally mature and actually grew up and have partners that we love,” she had said, the words caustic and barbed.

“Ah, well, commitment’s overrated,” Rafe drawled down the line. Sarah had been furious to hear his smug amusement at her easily triggered anger at that moment. “I bet you don’t even realize how bad it is. You probably don’t go even five minutes without touching her if you’re in the same room.” He let out a hum that had Sarah’s hair standing on end. “You probably couldn’t even stop yourself if you tried. I feel bad for her, I do. I’m sure that your girlfriend hates it. Even if she’s too nice to say it to you.”

At that point, the conversation had devolved largely into her yelling at her brother to stop being such a jackass and grow up and a bunch of other childish and otherwise unhelpful things that only could be dragged out of her by her siblings. Even so, knowing that Rafe was an idiot and a loser and always wrong more or less, the words had haunted her. They stuck to her brain. And part of her knew that he was right. She was clingy. Some probably would call her obsessive. She did feel like she had to be touching you every moment that she could be—it helped her feel sane for God’s sake. And sure she hated when Kiara looked at you for too long even though it was more likely that you’d both run away and elope with a literal fish before even looking at each other that way. So maybe she was a bit possessive at times. But you were the best thing that had ever happened to her. So sue her. Of course she was.

At that moment, it struck her.

And damn it all to hell because Rafe was right and she was just a bit psychotic when it came to you.

And damn it all to a deeper part of hell because he was also probably right about you hating it.

She tried her best to dissuade herself from that being the truth. But, over the following days after that first conversation with her brother, she recognized it more. The pattern of borderline obsession with you. Not to an unhealthy degree, not really. But enough that she somehow felt like a part of her was missing when she didn’t get to touch you every ten minutes or so when you were with each other. And that scared her. It scared her a lot. She’d worked so hard through her late teenage years and into her early twenties to become strong and independent. And in the last two years with you, it had dismantled every wall she’d ever built. You felt too entwined with her; it was like she didn’t know where you ended and where she began.

Sarah would admit it: she got scared.

Sarah would admit it: she was a coward.

Sarah would admit it: she ran in every way but literally.

At the drop of a dime, despite the fact it almost felt like going through literal withdrawal at first, she started distancing herself from you. From her peach. From the sweetest and best thing that had ever entered her life. She told herself it was to give you space. It was to give you the freedom to choose to bridge that gap and make the connection with you both. That was a lie though. That was the lie that she told herself even as she pulled away as you tried to make contact, even as she ignored you and flaked on plans and lied about where she was. Because if there was one thing that Sarah couldn’t shake—not fully, at least—it was the ability to blow up things that were important to her when they got too serious. Sure, it had taken two years this time, but she still did it.

But, hey, consistency was key when it came to destroying your life, right?

Then, it felt like she couldn’t stop. She felt awful that first week and wanted to stop. Going into the second week she told herself every day she needed to cut the shit out. And going into the third week it was the same song and dance to. Every time she said it she vowed she would. Every vow she made to do better she completely threw away for fear that she could not name.

So, she was completely aware that she deserved the silence that she got from you. She’d earned it even. But, even so, it burned her. It pissed her off and it terrified her and she was terrified for you and it all turned her stomach into knots that she felt would never go away. And the days dragged on like this. One day into five. Five into nine. She felt like she was going absolutely insane. Not a word from you. Not to her at least. Kie would get an update every four days or so it seemed like. Sarah desperately tried to act like it didn’t bother her but it stung. Already she’d mentally returned herself to the place of I don’t deserve this in a last ploy to avoid the depth of fear and feelings surrounding all of this. And she stewed in that instead of moping around too much. She avoided people the first nine days of you being gone, but by then her friends had informed her quite plainly that if she didn’t voluntarily come out with her they’d actually kidnap her this time. So, she’d agreed.

That’s what brought Sarah out to dinner with her friends. It was nothing big. It was literally just at the Wreck. Even so, dragging her there felt like a trial from the devil himself for a moment there. She sat, tense and generally off from her normal self. Everyone politely seemed to be ignoring it, even as she snapped and complained far more than she’d ever done even before she’d met all of them. Everyone except JJ who seemed almost personally offended by Sarah’s literal existence today. So, she made it her personal mission to ignore him altogether.

“Hey, Kie, have you heard from her?” Sarah asked quietly as the conversation began splitting off after they’d all placed their orders.

“Nothing today, no,” Kiara denied, while JJ scoffed. “Jayj, stop.”

“No. Got something to say, Maybank?” Sarah asked flatly, practically itching to take her anger out on something at that moment.

JJ looked her over as if she were the least interesting thing he’d ever set eyes on then shook his head. “Nothing worth it,” he scoffed before taking a drink from the bottle in front of him.

Sarah raised a brow. “No. Do go on,” she insisted.

“You’re pissed that she’s gone, yeah?” JJ posed. “It’s been two weeks of her dealing with a family crisis that might as well have arrived outta nowhere, yeah?” He scoffed. “Not even two full weeks yet.”

“What’s your point?” Sarah asked, gritting her teeth.

“My point is that you start talking about how she’s been gone so long, and this, that the other. And you’re saying it all like you weren’t practically throwing her away the past month she was here. And yes I said throwing her away because some of the shit had long surpassed pushing her away,” JJ pointed out, voice acidic but truthful. “And you know damn well I’m right, here, Cameron. You do. The problem is that’s just the stuff you were doing in front of us. So I’m sure you were doing worse when y’all were alone. And all my love, of course, Sarah. But at the end of the day? If you’re being as shitty a girlfriend to her as I even think you’re being? I hope she doesn’t come back again. I hope she doesn’t answer you. And I hope you figure out what the fuck got you so flighty when you’ve been happily held down the past two years by a woman you like…are obsessed with.”

“Why don’t we all take a step back here,” Cleo suggested, stepping in front of Sarah. Sarah hadn’t even realized that she’d moved. “Before things get more heated.” Sarah’s glare didn’t move from JJ. Cleo squeezed her shoulder. “Come on. Sarah.”

After another moment, Sarah cut her eyes over toward Cleo. She scoffed and pulled roughly away from her friends. “Fuck you, JJ,” she snapped as she stormed over to the door.

“Sarah,” Kie called after her.

But, Sarah didn’t reply. Instead, she stormed her way home and stewed in her anger, sadness, and hurt. It was easy to be angry. Very easy. It was probably the strongest thing passed down through her family. It was easier to stay attached to the anger than it was to try and reckon with JJ’s words…his accusations. Yes, it was far easier considering the voice in the back of her head that informed her plainly and repeatedly just how right JJ had been. So, instead of facing that, she happily stuck to the anger she felt at your perceived abandonment of her. She’d lost a lot in her life. You knew that. And now, what? She was expected to be okay with losing you? When she loved you, her precious girlfriend, more than anything else? No matter what the back of her mind reminded her of—her poor treatment of you—she couldn’t think beyond the threat of losing you.

The cycle went on like that

Despite every instinct in her mind, Sarah called you. She knew damn well that you wouldn’t answer. But, she just had to hear your voice on the voicemail. Just for a moment. She let out a shaky sigh as she heard your voice, telling her that you were sorry for missing the call and that you’d call her back if she just left a message after the beep. Your voice was so light, you were so full of joy. Sarah longed to have that happiness coloring your tone again. She longed to be the reason you were that happy again. At the sound of the beep, Sarah paused, unable to hang up.

“Hey, peach,” she said, the words practically squeaking out of her mouth. “I know you’re busy. Everyone says that you’re dealing with the family stuff on the mainland. I know. I get that. I’m sorry. I just…I just needed to hear your voice with the voicemail. I love you. I’m sorry. Please…I know I don’t deserve it. And I know that…I don’t want to make this about me. But…just…when you come back…let me talk to you. Please. Let me fix things. I love you so much. I can…I can explain everything about how fucking awful I’ve been. And I promise that I’m not gonna make excuses. I just…you deserve to know.” She let out a shaking breath. “I love you. I miss you. I…I can’t wait to see you again, my love.”

After that, Sarah hung up again, practically flinging the phone away from her. She took a few deep breaths and wiped away tears from her face that she hadn’t even realized had fallen. She forced herself to muster all of her strength and stopped crying. She stopped letting herself feel the hulking weight of her upset and instead laid down in her bed. She curled up in a ball and didn’t let herself cry, but instead forced herself to sleep. It was much, much easier that way—less pain gripping at her throat threatening to pull her under the weight of her own sadness and crush her. So, sleeping it was.

Even so, the last thing on her mind as she drifted off to sleep was you.

Nine days turned quickly into sixteen. And suddenly, it had been half a damn month since Sarah had seen or spoken to her girlfriend. It was killing her. By then, her friends were making a much more concentrated effort to try and make her feel better. Even JJ by then was trying to give Sarah something to smile about and distract her from your conspicuous and extended absence from her life. The most recent attempt was today, with Kie and Cleo dragging her down to the beach with the guys to look for sea glass they could use to make some new jewelry for each other. There also was the side quest of meeting the new girl that John B had been getting to know and definitely getting to be smitten with.

But, hours later, when the sun was burning high, her pockets were full of sea glass and her shoes full of sand, the mission got thrown to the wayside. It had been great hanging out with everyone. For once she’d been wholly distracted. Hell, she’d even found herself getting along well with the new girl that John B was seeing—she was sweet, really. But none of that mattered when she saw you at the end of the beach, walking towards them. She froze like a statue, brain overwhelmed so completely that it shut off entirely.

Naturally, everyone’s attention turned in your direction when they noticed the near-comical freeze from Sarah. You simply gave a half-smile when you realized that your friends had spotted you. One of your hands was shoved into your pocket, the other held a bouquet of dahlias that could only have come from your family’s flower shop—the shop that had been closed for two weeks now, much to the disappointment of the island. Your eyes were downcast, protected by sunglasses against the midday rays. Sarah blinked once, twice, a third time. You were beautiful and perfect and terrible and she missed you and she hated you and she loved you more than anything in this world and she didn’t know how to feel anymore. So, quite simply, she decided not to think about it. To not feel like she had to know anything. She just acted.

Sarah’s feet carried her forward on instinct towards you, slowly at first. But then she was booking it across the sandy beach to you. She threw herself at you, arms wrapping around you in the tightest hug she’d maybe ever given you, practically shaking. You wrapped your arms firmly around her, holding her tightly against you, and let her bury her head in your neck for a moment. Even in doing so, you had the presence of mind to not crush the dahlias, intent on them being perfect when you actually handed them over to Sarah. The pair of you were silent for an extended moment, just holding each other with your eyes closed.

“Hi, baby,” you greeted her, sounding utterly exhausted. Somehow that broke Sarah’s heart even more.

“Hi, peach,” she replied, voice wavering. “I missed you. So much.”

“Missed you too, Sar,” you assured her. She pulled back and looked at you, stroking your face with one hand, the other wrapped around the back of your neck. “You okay, baby?”

“I’m sorry,” Sarah said, tearfully.

Your brow knit together. “Why?” you asked, looking—and feeling—genuinely confused.

“You’re the love of my life and I have been awful for the past month. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t come back. You deserve so much better than I was giving you. And if you give me another chance then I promise you that I’ll do better. I love you so fucking much and I’m not ashamed of or embarrassed of you and you’re worth every ounce of effort and love that I give and I never ever, ever want you to doubt that,” Sarah declared. The words flowed from her mouth in a waterfall. “I’m sorry that I ever made you feel any differently. The love that I have for you…it isn’t…it shouldn’t be…it isn’t a secret.”

“Sar…baby…I was just dealing with hospice and the funeral the past few weeks,” you said, sounding tired, stroking her cheek in return. You sighed. “Yeah, you were out of it. You’re allowed to be.” You scoffed. “I just didn’t check in for two weeks, baby. That’s worse.”

Sarah shook her head in refusal. “No. You were dealing with your family, it’s not,” she declined. She saw you open your mouth and shook her head again. “And you needed to do it alone and I respect that and don’t feel any type of anger about it. I was just being awful because I was insecure and felt like I was too clingy. I should’ve been there for you.”

“Sar…stop,” you said, frowning seriously at her. “I didn’t want you to be there. I didn’t want anyone to be there. I was angry. I was upset. And I was stupid and wanted to handle it myself. That has nothing to do with you or our relationship, baby. I promise. Who cares if you dropped my fucking hand? This isn’t the music video for fucking All Too Well. You’re not Jake Gyllenhaal. This isn’t a Taylor Swift song, baby. This is real life. You’re allowed to be distant every once in a while. And I can tell you all about everything later. And I will. But we didn’t both need to go through it.” You blew out a sigh. “At least that’s how I felt when I was leaving. So it was what I maintained. I know that it hurt you…and for that I’m sorry. I’m not gonna do it again. I promise you that. And I also promise that I will tell you everything later.”

Despite her best effort, Sarah felt her bottom lip quivering. There was much that needed to be unpacked. Much that needed to be discussed. But, all Sarah could focus on at this moment was the stark relief that she felt. Her relationship wasn’t in danger. Her love for you wasn’t in question. She sagged against you, eyes wet with unshed tears, and looked at you with the ghost of a smile threatening to take over.

“You promise?” Sarah asked you quietly, needing the verbal confirmation.

You leaned forward and pressed a soft, sweet, lingering kiss to her lips. “I promise you. I’ll tell you everything. And you can tell me whatever you were saying you had to in your last voicemail. We’re gonna talk, Sarah. This isn’t the end of anything.” The words came out strong and assuring. “You are way more important to me than my own ego. Our relationship is more important to me than any fight we’d ever have. I love you, Sarah. And if I have been reminded of anything in the past few weeks? Life is way too goddamn short to waste time on this when I just want to love you.” You pressed another soft kiss to her lips that she tried to chase you down to continue. You smiled as you pulled away. “We can work it out later on, baby. Okay?”

Sarah nodded. “Okay,” she agreed softly, leaning her forehead against yours.

“For now I just want to be with you. Okay?” you posed.

“Okay,” she agreed, squeezing your hand in hers. Silently, you extended your hand, the dahlias—perfectly preserved due to your carefulness—being offered to Sarah in a silent apology. Sarah sniffled. “What do dahlias mean again?” She knew, of course. Dahlias were your favorite flower. She had them memorized as well as she had you memorized by now. But she just needed to be sure that you really, truly still felt the same way about her.

“Beauty, kindness, love…lifelong commitment…devotion,” you said softly, pressing tiny kisses to her lips between the last three. “And in this case? They’re just a plain old apology from me to you, Sarah Cameron.”

“They’re perfect,” Sarah said, looking down at the perfect blooms in her hand, wiping her tears away.

“No, that’s just you,” you denied. You smiled at her, soft and sweet. “I wanna hang out for a little while before I head back. Get the verbal lashings from Kie and Cleo out of the way. And JJ’s passive aggressiveness. Then…if…if you want…it can be just you and me tonight?” Sarah nodded eagerly and the pair of you started walking back towards your friends who had been watching the both of you without any shame in it. You glanced at them, eyes lingering on the girl you didn’t know. You turned towards Sarah, lowering your voice so only she’d have the possibility of hearing. “Who the hell is that?”

Sarah grinned at you, brightly. “Oh, that? That’s the girl John B’s been going out with,” she said lightly. You looked at her, eyes widening. She nodded, grin turning into a shameless smirk. “Yeah. I know. There’s a lot to catch you up on.”

“Debrief at home?” you asked quietly as you approached your friends.

“Debrief at home,” Sarah echoed in agreement, squeezing your hand, the weight that had been heavy on her heart largely melting away. She looked over at you as you approached, voice no longer quiet. “I love you, peach.”

“I love you too, Sar,” you said, bringing your entwined hands up to your lips so you could kiss her knuckles. You both ignored the catcalling coming from your friends. You rolled your eyes playfully at Sarah at their reaction. She did so back and you smiled slightly.

Yeah, the trouble could wait. At least for the night. Because you were right. All that mattered? You two had each other right here again. The rest of it? You’d figure it out along the way—doing it together. And that was all the both of you could hope for.

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

Kars x Fem! OC (Ivy Joestar) Part 4

Weeks passed, and every night Ivy did the same thing. When the last sliver of sun disappeared over the waters surrounding the island fortress, she’d step out on the balcony of the room where she was staying… or more accurately being kept. She’d stare at the stars and try to remember the sounds of the names Kars had called them. They had sounded so beautiful on his lips…. A tear trickled down Ivy’s chin and dropped onto her chest in an icy splash. “Why haven’t you come for me yet?” Ivy whispered. “To think I feel more of a hostage now than before. No one cares to talk to me. Even Joseph who rarely shuts up hasn’t come to check in on me in a week. I’d like to think it’s because he’s training so hard in the art of Hamon. But…” Ivy’s words dropped off. Maybe she wasn’t as valuable to Kars as she’d hoped. Maybe those glimmers of humanity she’d seen in him were simply what she wanted to see. What she needed to see. Still, she loved him. Maybe too much, but he was all she wanted.

When the sun rose, Ivy left the balcony and retreated into her room. She didn’t eat much, and she slept through the days. What point was there to a world bathed in sunlight that Kars couldn’t visit her in.

Another few days passed, and in the middle of the day, the first visitor (who didn’t come to simply bring her food) opened the door, entering Ivy’s chambers. It was Lisa.

“Ivy? Ivy wake up. We are leaving.” Lisa said, shaking Ivy awake.

Ivy groaned, rubbing her eyes. “Whyyyyy?” She whined. Then a thought occurred to her that perked her up immediately. “Does he want me back? Are you taking me to—“

“—Stop dreaming, Ivy.” Lisa interrupted, dragging her out of bed. “The stone of Aja has been mailed to Switzerland.”

Ivy resisted Lisa’s grasp until she realized what Lisa Lisa was talking about. “The…. Red stone of Aja? You mean the one my Lord Kars wants?“

Lisa frowned. “Yes. That’s the one.”

“You had it?!” Ivy said frantically. “And they took it? Without taking me too?”

Lisa stopped dragging Ivy down the hall for a second. “Kars didn’t come here and take it, but his comrade Esidisi used his last breath to send it out of the country. Youre lucky your brother is alive, Ivy. He fought Esidisi alone.”

Realizing the gravity of Lisa Lisa’s words, Ivy became compliant and followed the woman to the car parked outside the fortress. An idea had formed in her head. A plan. She needed to see Joseph. She needed to tell him something. While Joseph’s friend/hamon training companion Caesar and his mentor Lisa were loading up the car quickly, Ivy made her way over to where Joseph was standing.

“Jojo, I need to talk with you. I have a plan on how to get the red stone of Aja back.” Ivy said urgently.

Joseph stretched and yawned “Hmmm. The next thing you’re going to say is ‘Lisa Lisa can trade me for the stone…’ am I right?” Joseph said, crossing his arms.

Ivy’s face turned red with frustration. “But Lisa Lisa CAN trade me for the stone! It would work! I promise….” She pleaded.

Joseph shook his head. “No sis. Not only would that fail, but even if there was a chance the pillarmen would trade for you I’d tell them to fuck off! You’re my sister. You think I don’t care what happens to you? You’d be better off making your case to Lisa Lisa. She’s the one who seems sick of you” Joseph shrugged. “Sorry I can’t help.”

Ivy was silent as she got into the car. All she could do was follow Lisa’s instructions. She felt helpless. No control over her destiny, and losing hope hour by hour that Kars cared for her on any level.

They took a boat off the island and then drove many hours until they reached the Swiss/italian border.

In front of them were German soldiers. Ivy wrinkled her nose with distaste. What an unpleasant surprise. Lisa had some sort of interaction with them, before getting back in the car.

“The German troops intercepted the mail. They have the red stone of Aja.” Lisa said, gritting her teeth with frustration.

“So….” Ivy began.

“Looks like that bastard Kars doesn’t have the stone after all.” Joseph commented. “Not that the Germans having it is a pleasant turn of events.”

Lisa explained how they would be staying at the German base in Switzerland and cooperating for the time being as she negotiated with someone named Stroheim for ownership of the stone.

“What’s so special about this gemstone anyway? Is it really worth cooperating with a bunch of Nazi bastards to try and get it back?” Ivy asked bitterly.

“If we don’t get it back from the Germans, Ivy, my entire lifelong guardianship of the stone will be worthless. The Germans think they can protect the stone from Kars and the pillarmen. They are naive to think so. The pillarmen will be undefeatable and completely immortal if we don’t negotiate and get the stone now. It will fall into the enemy’s hands. And humanity… will fall with it.” Lisa said, her voice only betraying her anxiety in the pauses between words.

Ivy didn’t ask any more questions. She reluctantly cooperated when they arrived at the German base. All she knew was she didn’t want to be there. Whatever that meant…

A few days passed by. Ivy waited for Kars to come like she did every night. He didn’t come. And there was that voice… repeating in the darkest corners of her mind…. “He doesn’t want you. Such a foolish girl. Thinking he would love you? How idiotic.” It got louder each night. ‘If he doesn’t want me… what’s the point?’ Ivy thought tearfully. She opened the drawer of her nightstand and stared at the gun inside. She had stolen it from a drunk German soldier. “I don’t want to be here…” she whispered shakily. She felt guilty. Guilty for even considering it. But then… what was she to anyone? She was just baggage, a silly fool that her brother and his mentor had to drag around with them to stop her from getting in trouble. And Kars…

Ivy locked the door, picking up the gun. She put it to her head, shaking. Then set it aside. Picking it up again after a few moments she examined it. She hated herself for considering it. But she didn’t really see a better option. She was tired of waiting. No one was coming for her. Ivy cocked the gun and lifted it to her skull. Three. Two—-

Bang. CRASH. The wall in front of Ivy was sliced by a giant curved blade from the outside, as easily as paper is cut by scissors. Ivy froze. As the wall fell away, it revealed a tall and shadowy figure with blades protruding from his arms. Kars. Ivy started sobbing, gun shaking in her hand. Kars approached her, blades gleaming in the light. He eyed her curiously, noting the gun she was lowering from her head. He dashed forward, skillfully knocking the gun from her hands and pinning her up against the wall behind her.

“Please…. lord Kars, if you have the time… please just kill me. I know you don’t have use for me anymore. But I can’t go on like this…” Ivy whispered, breathing shakily as she eyes how close his blades were to her neck.

Kars lowered himself a bit so he was eye level with Ivy instead of towering over her. “You think you can escape me, woman?” His red eyes glittered with intensity. His face was inches from hers.

Ivy closed her eyes. “Please… I—“ her lips were enveloped by the soft and passionate sensation of Kars mouth. He kissed her, gently. Ivy’s mind went blank. This was… something Lord Kars had never done. With all the times he had railed her, not a single time had he kissed her.

“Mmm….” Ivy sighed. She heard his blades retract back into his arms, and felt his arms wrap around her body to support her. His touch was restrained, gentle, a tight embrace but not selfish in its passion.

He drew back, admiring the look of shock on Ivy’s face, her lips still parted. “What a foolish little thing. I came to take what is mine, not to destroy it. Do you still want me to end your life?” Kars frowned.

Ivy shook her head, dazed. “I…. My….” She was at a loss for words.

“Good. Now, when I have attained the stone of Aja and use it, I will give it to you afterwards. It should look lovely draped across your breasts…” Kars smirked, placing his hand on her chest as he explained.

“D-Do you love me?” Ivy spouted, immediately regretting the words escaping her mouth. “I mean… it would be nice if….”

Kars blinked, examining her face for a moment then pulling her close. “Loathe as I am to admit it, my feelings for you… mortal, are extremely intense and inconvenient. I guess one might call that love. Yes…. Regardless. I will have you. My yōltzin.” He whispered.

Ivy’s cheeks felt hot just hearing him speak to her that way. “Yōltzin?”

“Precious heart. That’s what it means. I’ll teach you more later, little one.”

TUMBLR FANFIC TAG-LIST!

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[shini--chan]

Can i request for general yandere hcs for the baltic trio (seperate)?

Ravis is first, the other two Baltics will follow in due time.

Yandere Charater Sheet I

1p! Latvia: Raivis Galante

Characters adjusted to the reader's age. Here I am, wondering how I managed to turn Latvia into a complete nutcase. 

Trigger warnings: Kidnapping, stalking, inappropriate touching, theft, voyeurism, restraining, subduing, human experimentation, murder

Attributes - What sort of Yandere is he/she?

Raivis, is for all intents and purposes, shameless when it comes to the activities surrounding his pursuit and "relationship" with you. The notion of stalking you, stealing little "trophies" from you, taking pictures of you while in public or in private - he doesn't feel a sliver of guilt. The factors preventing him from being completely insolent around you is that if other people caught on to his behaviour, then they would do their best to stop him. Furthermore, he wants you running towards him and throwing yourself in his arms, not running away from him. If anything, he hates it when his actions have negative consequences, even if he technically did nothing wrong. 

On the flip side, he is desperate to have you, and that is something that curtails his behaviour. Latvia so dearly wants to impress you, to have you in awe of his skills. Everytime you enter the room or his vicinity, he perks up like a puppy that wants to play. In a way, he even acts the part - when he does get the chance to be with you, he is enthusiastic, stumbling over his words and gesturing a bit too wildly with his hands. He'll become your shadow for the evening, or just the day, opening doors for you or pulling out your chair. He'll use these small chores as excuses to get very close to you - hands lingering a bit too long when he takes your jacket, his nose almost in your hair when he stands behind you in the bus. 

Added on is that he has been withdrawn for so long, and with his exuberance in approaching you, that he doesn't know how to handle the situation correctly. He is awkward in many ways, even more so during your time together. However, he is somewhat conscious of it and will make it clear that the things he does wrong are not due to malicious intent and are genuine mistakes. This way, he hopes to encourage you to dismiss his yandere tendencies. 

Because he is self-conscious and aware enough to know that what he is doing isn't right, that a healthy relationship doesn't consist of him dogging your every step, or interrogating every person you spend more than five minutes with. However, if there aren't any negative consequences then he can't bring himself to care. He just wants somebody to dote on him and in turn to be cherished by him. Surely there is nothing wrong about that, even if it means infringing on your personal freedoms? Besides, rights are only as strong as those willing to enforce them, and if nobody comes to your rescue, then surely there is no problem. 

Immaturity is another mark of him, but not in the way you would expect. It manifests in that he strives to ignore problems as much as possible, i.e. if there are negative consequences to his actions that can be ignored, he'll readily sweep them under the rug. Likewise, if he can shove responsibility of some atrocity onto somebody else, it will be done without a second thought. In his mind, the reason you don't accept him is that others filled your head with fluff. He is not at fault that you find him reprehensible, oh no sir. 

Cornering - How would they get you?

This is where he can be spectacularly impulsive. Mayhaps he is fretting over how to approach you, how to win over your heart, when he spontaneously decides to throw it all in the wind and nab you. It could be during a field trip - the two of you out on a lake on a sailing boat, just having finished lunch. You're just lying on deck, sated and sleepy. Would this just be the perfect time to tie you up, dock and then squirrel you away to his house? 

Or he offers you a ride home from an event that you both are attending, and decides to take you to his house. If you protest when he pulls into the garage, he'll feign being a cheesy romantic and that he understood his place when you told him to drive you home. 

The matter is, Raivis is very intelligent, but he still sucks when it comes to planning a complex sequence of events, especially when some of the variables are unknown. Chess is foreseeable since it is a lot about developed tactics and countertactics, where the properties of all pieces are known and everything is visible. Real life is not so accommodating and thus he struggles. Thus, he has a vague idea as to how to win your heart, but as to how the chips should fall so that he gets his happily ever after, he is clueless. 

So he decides to just go for the kill. Part of this is also to blame on the fact that his idea of romance comes from tragic romance books, where the love interest slips through the fingers of the protagonist due to lack of action. 

You wind up in his humble abode, and he has no idea what to do with you. Installing child safety everywhere seems like a good first step. If you don't watch out, you might wind up tied to a bed. All in all, how well you are treated depends on how well you take the sudden change in your living situation. Should you accept it with grace, then you'll be able to trick yourself into thinking it is a normal relationship, with one eye closed that is. Should you might back, tranquillisers and chains it is. 

Expectations - What do they expect of you?

He wants you to me feminine. Not girly, don't be mistaken, rather imbued with grace and kindness. Lavia wants somebody tender to spend his time with after enduring the stresses of the day. A bit like those old aristocratic ladies, with impeccable manners, a good sense of fashion and a stern demeanour. Though, please don't look down on him. 

That is partially where the desire for a more down to earth persona comes in. Somebody that doesn't hesitate to roll up their sleeves and get to work, no matter how long the hours and tough the task is. Somebody with whom he can build a home. A partner with a matronly side here is ideal, that isn't too stuck up to laugh and enjoy life, nor withers away when the going gets tough. 

It is then up to you to stick a balance here. Ravis is very much a dreamer, and can often get carried away with them. On top of that, he often tries to superimpose his dreams on reality and then becomes either upset or anxious when they don't match. Here, you'll have to be good with words, good at dragging him out of his slump while not encouraging his daydreaming tendencies to an unhealthy extent. Additionally, have good communication skills. He is so afraid of you leaving him, but doesn't see how the fault for that could rest on his shoulders, instead it would be all your doing. In the long-term, you'll have to learn how to communicate with him without setting him off. 

Also, rely on him. Let him feel smart and strong, worthy of your time. If you don't, then it isn't him that is wrong, but you. You are the evil being trying to undermine his self-esteem and make him doubt himself. How can you reject all his hard work, you ungrateful ignat? Here you would be dealing with a volatile young man. Be careful what you say to him or else you'll put yourself in danger. Be grateful for his affections and attention, even if it should come in the form of a severed head in a cardboard box on your doorstep. 

On top of that, you'll have to have a lot of metal resilience. Look, he isn't the sort that doesn't know how to comfort people, or bring somebody down from an anxiety attack, but he doesn't expect to have to carry you through life because you can't function in day-to-day life. And if you are catatonic? Then you'll find yourself without company, not even his. He wouldn't provide the most psychologically healthy environment to begin with, and it not something he'll ever fully, consciously acknowledge. In that way, you'll have to put up with his daily antics without tearing your hair out. 

Intelligence is also important to him. Mind you, you don't have to be a complete genius - that would just intimidate him and the leash he'd have on you would become even shorter. What he desires, is somebody that can understand him, especially when he starts rambling about his interests and hobbies. And understands not to fidget too much when the chains are brought out. 

Faded - Would they let go of you in any way?

If you would become catatonic, then he would toss you aside without a second thought. Being a walking corpse, you just wouldn't be the person whom he became obsessed with. Since you wouldn't have any value to him as an empty doll, he would get rid of you fast. Murder wouldn't be an option, not for old times sake at least, so he would just drop you off at the side of the road and call it a day. He would be a bit worried about you, but would ultimately decide that he would do you no good by fretting over you. With you out of sight and having no more importance to him, he'll manage to move on.

The other way would be if you are much more powerful than him in your own right, or if you have somebody protecting you from him. Even if it is just Poland that is your partner, he would hesitate to make you his. So it might just as well be that he'll be restricted to pinning for you from afar. Over time, he could just as well fall for somebody else, or force himself to not think. With enough distraction and enough time, the memory of you will fade.

Punishment - How would they proceed if you do something they disapprove of?

Oh, this can be scary. You see, this young man doesn't really know when to stop and often goes too far due to his skewed perception of reality. Don't worry though, he isn't for public humiliation, usually. What can he do if unsavoury rumours about you suddenly start circulating. Bad things happen, and sometimes people get bored and make stuff up to pass the time. It isn't his fault in any way. If it pushes you closer to him, then he won't complain. 

Other than that, he would want to illustrate to you how generous and gracious he is being with you. How about going a few days without heating. How about without food? No clothing? No water? No electricity? It would be like a science experiment to him where he can play around with the parameters to produce different outcomes. Ravis isn't above writing a report about it and then presenting his findings to you, also thanking you for your "willing participation". 

Another way he would punish you would be by granting your wish to stop interfering with your life. He’d let you run the show, cook and clean and read whatever, whenever you want. But he would be there the whole time, eyes tracing your every movement, listening to your every word. He would never interfere, just watch the whole time. With him having all the keys, you wouldn’t even have privacy while sitting on the toilet - he would just be standing there, watching you. This would also be one of those scenarios where he wouldn’t say anything for days. Ravis would do his best to not outwardly react to anything you say or do, and only end the whole affair when he deems you ready. This could be after a few hours, or after a month or two. 

There is also a game plan if you resort to violent action - breaking bones. If he shatters the bones in your fingers, then you'll be dependent on him for and during your recovery. Also, you won't be able to attack or escape. Actions have consequences, and this would be the consequence of you being mean and hurtful to him. Surely that will teach you a lesson. On top of that, your hands will never be the same again. Future attacks will have no chance of being smooth and lightning quick. 

Reaction - How would they react to you escaping?

This would be where he'd get very impulsive. You see, you are like an opiod that soothes and dulls the pain. Having you suddenly disappear into thin air would be a shock in more ways than one. Latvia would become frantic, running all around your shared living space, ripping open closets and peeking behind wardrobes, because surely you are just hiding from him, right? Right? 

There is a chance that he'll be the one to catch, not eating or sleeping until he has you back in his grasp. Should you meet him in this state, don't expect him to be reasonable or merciful - he'll be too frenzied for either of those. Best come along quietly and don't draw it out for longer than need be. That would just make him more irate and prone to injuring you and bystanders. 

It could just as well be that you aren't captured by him, but by agents or mercenaries employed by the Latvian government. They might not have a lot of power or influence, but they still need a functioning nation. The best way to ensure that is to drag you back to captivity.

Turnabout - Scenario: You have the upper hand? What would be different from their usual MO?

This would only work if you can convince him that you are acting in his best interests. Maybe he is a patient and you have to play nurse for him, taking his health in your hands and handling it expertly. Maybe you earn more than he does, and thus make the big purchases, like buying a house, a car and whatnot. Then he can be relatively at ease with the whole dynamic. Control ultimately rests with him though, and at the end of the day, you have to accept him in your life. 

When that isn't the case, that is when matters turn ugly. Due to nearly always being under foreign control means that Ravis has garnered a lot of negative experiences of what happens when he gives up control. He reacts allergic to situations and dynamics where he doesn't have any control and doesn't go in his favour. So you can expect manipulations, pot shots, and waking up in the night to find that he is smothering you with a pillow. All of this wouldn't be to kill you. No, it would just be to make you hand back the reins to him. 

Vengeance - What would they do in the face of competition?

Ravis would know that he is a small country with little to his name. Little to offer, and even less means by which he can threaten. All in all if another country or a powerful person takes interest in you, there is little he can do about it. What he can do is gather allies or also use somebody else's interests to his own ends. There are border issues, economic disputes, intelligence problems and so much more that rise and subside in international relationships. He just has to make sure goals align and with a little grease on the wheels, he is good to go. 

Perhaps the near neighbour is in desperate need of a colour revolution. Or should it rather be a plain political crisis. With some well placed words and offers, he could end up pointing a benefactor at his enemy like a howitzer. Once the wolves are done tearing at each other's throats, he'll be sifting through the rubble to take his own spoils. If one of those spoils is you, then that is just his luck, isn't it?

In the case we are talking about a regular mortal, then matters are simpler - they go missing. If they end up as pig food or as "goods" on the black market really depends on his mood. 

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part eighteen

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral

el's thoughts: part eighteen!! ahhh enjoy :)

series masterlist

“Nina.” Matthias gritted out. The girls pinned to the floor clawed at his hands as they grasped her throat tighter. “Witch,” he hissed, leaning over her. “Be me for your life.”

Y/N turned to Kaz, her eyes wide in desperation for him to do something, but as the seconds ticked on he stood there unmoving. The inferni rubbed two fingers together and created a burning flame on her index finger. She slid forward, falling to her knees beside the Fjerdan and held her flame to his neck, close enough for him to feel the heat. “Hands off her.” Matthias slowly released Nina and sat up. Y/N reached a hand out to the girl at her elbow and brought her to stand behind her. Both grish women moved to stand, while the one in front muffled her flame.

The Hellgate prisoner watched the inferni with a flame of his own in his eyes. His glare burned into her. How dare she refuse his chance at revenge. Without a second thought he rose to his feet and lunged at her. He heard a metallic click, and once again someone stood in his way. “Stay down, Helvar.” Kaz had moved to stand inbetween the inferni and Fjerdan with a gun held in his hand. The Bastard had been subtle when he moved his other arm to gently push Y/N further behind him.

“Go ahead and shoot me.”

Y/N could feel Kaz rolling his eyes as he spoke. “If you’ve actually lost your mind, this is going to be a lot tougher than I thought.”

Within seconds, Kaz had swung the grip of his gun into Matthias’ shoulder. He grunted as he fell forward, his left arm had gone entirely numb.

“Get hold of yourself, Helvar. We’re here to break you out. I can do to your leg what I did to your arm, and we can drag you out of here, or you can leave like a man, on two feet.”

“No one gets out of Hellgate,” Matthias said. 

“Tonight they do.”

Matthias sat forward, trying to get his bearings, clutching his dead arm. “You can’t just walk me out of here. The guards will recognize me,” he snarled. “I’m not losing fighting privileges to be carted off, Djel knows where with you.”

“You’ll be masked.”

“If the guards check-”

“They’re going to be too busy to check,” Kaz said. And then the screaming started. 

A gasp escaped Nina, “You opened the cages.” Her voice was shaky with disbelief. Y/N noticed Matthias eye the heartrender as if puzzling out in his head if it was all an act.

“Jesper was supposed to wait until three bells.” Kaz muttered.

“It is three bells, Kaz.” Y/N muttered back.

“Since when is Jesper punctual?” the man complained with a glance at his watch. “On your feet, Helvar.”

~

The rush of waves were finally heard over all the chaos from inside the prison. In the distance, a guard could be seen sitting on a stray boat swaying with the tide. The guard stood up and waved them over, the groupd followed and walked to the boat.

“You were early, Jesper,” Kaz said as he nudged Matthias into the rocking boat.

“I was on time.”

“For you, that’s early. Next time you plan on impressing me, give me some warning.”

“The animals are out, and I found you a boat. This is when a thank you would be in order.”

“Thank you, Jesper.” Y/N smiled at the zemmini while she took Kaz’s hand and allowed him to help her in.

Jesper eyed the pair teasingly, “You’re very welcome, gorgeous. See, Kaz? That’s how the civilized folk do.”

Y/N felt Matthias’ eyes on the side of her face. She shifted uncomfortably, but held herself together as she waited for Jesper to push the boat off the rocks. She turned her head just enough to get a better view of Helvar, she noticed his eyes scanning over everyone around them. She knew his next move before he did, so the moment he stepped up and tried to lunge at her again, she stepped to the side and watched as he tumbled out of the boat. 

Kaz stared at Y/N and waited for her to make eye contact. Once she did and nodded, he turned to Nina. “Put him under,” he commanded. 

“Don’t,” Matthias protested. 

“You’re dumb enough to capsize the boat. And this should teach you not to go after one of my crows again.”

“Stay away from me, you witch.” Matthias growled at Nina. 

Nina gave him a tight nod, “With pleasure.” She lifted her hands. And Matthias’ eye started to slip close. “Kill you,” he mumbled.

“Sleep well.

~

In a windowless room draped in black and crimson, Y/N sat down on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her. Kaz Brekker was a man who spent too much time in the dark, and the low lighting in the room didn’t help his complexion, but he was still the most strikingly handsome man she had set eyes on. 

The inferni cursed to herself and brought her attention back to what Kaz was saying. Explaining everything he knew about the drug outbreak once again. Y/N shook her head to rid herself of the memory of Nikolai’s coronation. 

The beautifully decorated hall was silent but completely full of guests from all over the world. People gathered to see Nikolai Lantsov crowned king of Ravka. Y/N sat next to Zoya and Genya in the front row to the right of the room and smiled up at Alina as she stood beside Nikolai.

Nikolai had stepped forward and knelt in front of the people, the priest walked to him and placed the crown atop of his blonde locks. The greasy priest took the diamond encrusted staff and tapped each shoulder before handing him the scepter and orb to hold in each hand. Nikolai had slowly risen to his feet and a few silent moments later the rest of the room rose to their feet and broke out into applause. 

No one had paid attention to the lady in red standing in the middle of the aisle till she started shouting in Fjerdan. Everyone had turned to face the disruptance of the ceremony and an unsettling feeling clawed its way up Y/N’s chest. 

With the rise of the lady’s hands the whole room was covered in pain. The people closest to her hand fell forward, spitting blood from their mouths as their knees hit the floor. Her red and gold dress trailed behind her as he walked closer to the king, and with each step more people fell to the floor. Blood spluttered out of people’s mouth and ran down the side of their faces from their ears. 

Zoya had clutched her heart and screamed in agony while Genya slid down her seat, the veins in her neck had a visible strain. Y/N looked to both Alina and Nikolai, hopelessness settled in her eyes as she gasped in pain, trying her hardest to steel herself. 

Alina had hunched forward and pulled her arms to one side of her body before throwing her hands out in front of her, effectively releasing the cut. A shadow cut. 

The lady in red let out a final gasp before the top half on her body slid to the floor, the rest of her crumpled in a heap of blood and silk fabric. 

It was after that that Nikolai had requested Y/N make the journey back to Ketterdam to seek the help of the Crows. The crows whom she had grown personally attached to. Y/N had almost begged Nikolai to send someone else, but he claimed he trusted no one else with a mission like this. And with that she reminded herself of her job and duty to her country. She had no right to let personal feelings and issues get in the way of serving the throne. 

But maybe it couldn’t hurt to indulge a little… “Grisha always live far longer than any otkazat’sya and you know that. You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak all over again.” She turned her head sharply to the side and gritted her teeth. ‘Get out.’ 

“No.” Matthias’ voice startled her out of her thoughts and brought her back to the moment. 

“Believe me when I say this, Helvar: I know getting knocked out and waking up in strange surroundings isn’t the friendliest way to start a partnership, but you didn’t give us many options, so try to open your mind to possibilities.”

“You could have come to me on your knees, and my answer would be the same.”

“You understand I can have you back at Hellgate in a matter of hours? Once poor Muzzen is in the infirmary, the switch will be easy.”

“Do it. I can’t wait to tell the warden your ridiculous plans.”

Kaz smirked, “What makes you think you'll be going back with a tongue?”

“Kaz-” Y/N protested, only earning her a sharp glare, silencing her instantly.

“Do what you want,” Matthias said.

“I told you,” said Nina.

“Don’t pretend you know me, witch,” he snarled, his eyes trained on Brekker.

Jesper unfolded himself from the cornner he occupied. “Without him, there is no job. We can’t break into the Ice Court blind.”

Matthias let out a harsh laugh, “You can’t break into the Ice Court at all.” 

Y/N had learned all about the Ice Court back in Ravka, and she knew it was no ordinary building. It was a compound, Fjerda’s ancient stronghold, home to an unbroken succession of kings and queens, repository of their greatest treasures and most sacred religious relics. It was impenetrable. But if Kaz believed he could find a way in… Then Y/N could only hope he really knew what he was getting them all into. 

“Come now, Helvar,” said Kaz. “Surely there’s something you want. The cause is righteous enough for a zealot like you. Fjerda may think they’ve caught a dragon by the tail, but they won’t be able to hold on. Once Bo Yul-Bayur replicates his process, jurda parem will enter the market, and it’s only a matter of time before the others learn to manufacture it, too.”

“It will never happen. Yul-Bayur will stand trial, and if he is found guilty he will be put to death.”

“Found guilty of what?” Y/N asked.

“Crimes against people.”

“Which people?”

Everyone in the room could hear the barely leashed anger that dripped over Y/N’s voice. “Natural people,” Matthias replied. “People who live in harmony with the laws of this world instead of twisting them for their own gain.”

Nina made a kind of exasperated snorting sound. The others just looked amused, smirking at the poor, backward Fjerdan. 

“You’re being shortsided about this, Helvar,” said Kaz. “Another team could get to Yul-Bayur first. The Shu. Maybe the Ravkans.” Y/N threw him a glare but he ignored her. “All with their own agendas. Border disputes and old rivalries don’t matter to the Kerch. All the Merchant Council cares about is trade, and want to make sure jurda parem remains a rumor and nothing more.”

“So leading criminals into the heart of Fjerda to steal a valued prisoner is a patriotic act?” Matthias asked scornfully. 

“I don’t suppose the promise of four million kruge will sway you, either.” 

Matthias spat. “You can keep your money. Choke on it.” 

Y/N’s mind ran a million miles per hour over the words Kaz had said. Four million kruge. They had never talked about Nikolai’s payment yet, and that fact alone should’ve rung a few alarms. Who was paying him the four million? She knew nothing about payment and she was in a way Ravka’s ambassador in thie situation. Nikolai had sent her to strike a deal with Kaz. This was to be between Ravka and the crows. No one else.

“I’ll make a deal with you.” Matthias spoke.

“I’m listening.”

“I won’t go with you, but I’ll give you a plan for the layout of the Court. That should at least get you past the first checkpoint.”

“And what will this valuable information cost me?” Kaz eyed him sharply.

“I don’t want your money. I’ll give you the plans for nothing.” Matthias hesitated for a split second before his eyes darkened as he spoke his next words. “If you let me kill Nina Zenik.”

[barry-j-blupjeans]

TAZ NC Day 4: Rest

@taznovembercelebration

The boat was sealed away in a hidden port off the Sword Coast. The walk to get there was long and almost made Davenport wish he had brought someone with him for company. It was much too sandy for any reasonable person to lend him a horse, even if he was being heralded as one of the seven saviors of the world. Luckily, he didn't have too much to bring with him. Just the clothes on his back, a knapsack full of his favorite little trinkets, and a compass.

It wasn't like he was given the chance to collect more belongings over the last ten years.

There's sand in Davenport's boots by the time he arrives at the sea cave. He's on the base below a sharp cliff and the cave is cracked into the face of it, seawater calming as it goes further inside. Normally, he'd have to figure out a way to get in there without getting wet but, luckily, he was tol— he already knew a separate entrance. Davenport studied the side of the cliff for a second before reaching out for an edge that looked a little out of place. And sure enough, the edge easily folded back into the rock, opening up a hidden door.

The inside of the cave is less imposing than the outside of it. There are torches that line the wall, though they aren't lit. The path here is made of wooden beams, some parts of it extending over the water. And at the end of that makeshift little dock, a boat floated in the water, teether with a simple sturdy rope.

It's a beautiful boat. Or, well. It was. He could tell that a preservation spell had been placed on it, but it had started to fade long ago. Now, the boat was simply beaten down by the elements. The front end was cracked and what he was sure was once thick, dependable sails were fraying at the edges. Not to mention the erosion and the number of barnacles that had made themselves at home along the bottom.

But it was his. This was his. …It had supposed to have been, anyway.

Davenport had— he knew Lucretia had acted on what she believed to be the best decisions. And, after hearing about the lives she set up for their family, he had no doubt that the life she had fabricated for him would have been just fine. Except, well. That didn't change that Davenport didn't get that life. He didn't get that peace, that momentary rest where things were okay, if only for a little while. Life could never be perfect, he knew that by now. They all did. But she had tried.

He hated… her? The situation? Just the fact that it had been an option at all to her. He hated what she made him become, what she took from him. He could barely stand to be in the room with her, but she had never acted out of malice. Even when he was incapacitated, she never treated him like less. She had always been looking for a way to reverse what she had done but he hated that his personhood didn't come before her plan. He wouldn't have been like that for that long if she had given him the ichor.

When she had come to him, mere hours after the defeat of the Hunger, he hadn't wanted to talk. He— he might never want to, and that was scary but it was true— but he had let himself get sat down. And he had let her talk like he had for the last ten years. And he listened to the apologies (like he had for the last ten years), not feeling any different because of them.

But she had a plan. She always did. Davenport used to love that about her. He… still did. Truly.

"It's… it's just off the Sword Coast," she had said. They were in one of the Bureau's meeting rooms and morning sun reflected behind her as they talked. He thought about Merle and what he described his talks to the Hunger to be like. He wondered how Merle ever got used to it, knowing each conversation would end with his death. "There's a notch— a ledge, really, if I'm being honest— next to one of the bigger caves along the west end. I— I had planned for you to… well, uhm. I bought a boat for you, Captain."

Davenport set down his knapsack on the dock, rolling up his sleeves. If he was going to make this work, there was a lot of work to be put in. After the ship was up and running, he could think about rest. For now, he just needed to do.

[otherworldlysinners]

 @desertgourd

  It was a night like any other. Nothing special about it, really. Same with the bar. Same with its customers. A hot spot for the young and lonely, both those trying to change and those who wanted to be. One could dive head first into the crowd or get lost in its anonymity, make friends as quickly as part with them again, if so desired, or simply fill one‘s body up with liquor so high that it would drown out the noise and the music and all your demons along with them. It was a perfect place for people watching, too. A group of young women by the entrance were laughing over their cocktails. All but one, that was, who quietly sipped on a glass of soda and seemed a little out of place at their table. Her gaze drifted through the room like a boat lost at sea, never casting anchor. It drifted past the pool table, where a bearded man in his early thirties just raised the bottle of beer in his hand for a grand welcome to an old friend who had just arrived. The newcomer briefly hugged the man with a large smile before wandering off towards the bar to fetch himself something to pour out on the night as well. It did not take long for the bartender to notice him.  Money, a few words and another bottle of beer flew across the counter, and the man returned to his pal who was suddenly in the company of a fairly pretty young blonde, whom he introduced to the other.

  „You sure you want another, Sweetie?“ The bartender cocked her head at the guest sitting at the corner of her corner with some concern. He nodded without looking up, and dropped his hand back on the table in silence. He knew he shouldn‘t. He was already more intoxicated than he had ever planned on being tonight. But his search had been unsuccessful, none of his brief encounters had stuck, and as the evening had stretched on he had kept wandering from place to place, buying something every time just so that his mouth had something to do. His wallet was screaming bloody murder, but he did not hear it. He didn‘t hear anything at this point, except for the dull rumbling of voices all around him.

  A new glass was placed before him with a frown, and he muttered something that vaguely sounded like a thank you. Oh, he was going to regret this tomorrow. But what did it matter? He was going to regret it all either way. The drinks, the day, and his entire miserable existence. Give it a week from now and he would have successfully stuffed them into a box again, abandoning them somewhere deep within the trenches of his soul, and not spare them a second thought until spring. Besides, open wounds were vulnerable to infection, right? With a sigh, Lux lifted the new glass to his lips and emptied it in one go.

  What time was it? He glanced down at his phone, but found that he couldn‘t read the numbers. The world was swimming before his eyes, and so were his demons inside. Maybe he should go home. He was too far gone to still bring the night to a successful ending anyway. Pushing himself off his bar stool proved difficult though. Had the floor always been this far away? The young man slipped his phone back into the pocket of his jacket and attempted to stand. At once, the horizon shifted. He stumbled, lost his balance, and only managed to keep himself from falling head first into another customer by clumsily holding onto the counter beside him. A bright thud and the feeling of something wet and cold suddenly washing over his hand told Lux that he had likely just knocked over the other‘s drink. Brilliant. God was truly turning a blind eye on him today. Could his birthday get any worse?

  „M‘sorry. Sorry. Uhm-- I‘ll buy you a new one, really sorry. I just--“ He tried to steady himself, glazed eyes waiting for his toppled ship to turn itself back on its belly before looking at the other. At least nobody knew him here. „You okay?“

[fandomficsnstuff]

Wolves And Hounds-10

(Warnings: Some angst, a little more angst and finally, some fluffy fluff at the end. Enjoy!<3)

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

Karliah was woken up by the sounds of someone moving about in her room, her eyes slowly opening, turning her head instinctively to the other side of the bed, seeing it empty. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Which just made her more confused. She sat up and looked around the room, seeing her two handmaidens, Grida and Jaylice, moving about, preparing for breakfast and getting ready for the day. Back at Winterfell she had loathed her handmaidens. Not because they weren’t nice, they were very nice, and that was the problem, they were too nice. ‘Yes, M’Lady’, ‘no, M’Lady’, ‘you’re right, M’Lady’. She almost barfed every time they bowed their heads with polite smiles and did whatever they were told. These handmaidens barely spoke, which left her without the sickening ‘yes, whatever you say, M’Lady’, but also left her without any sense of… companionship… They both looked at her as she got out of bed, giving her looks of sympathy and Karliah froze, halfway out of bed when an idea popped into her mind. “A bath would be… nice” she stated softly, the girls nodding, scurrying off to get what was needed for it and Karliah let out a shaky breath, finally alone with her thoughts. She moved up her nightgown to the dagger strapped to her calf, taking it out and she made sure no one was in the room when she moved to the middle of the bed and pulled up her nightgown all the way to her waist, cutting the inside of her thigh, just enough for a few drops to spill onto the sheets. She quickly wiped off and hid the knife behind the table next to the bed, up against the wall on her side of the bed, the left side, quickly moving to sit as she had been before they left, just in time for them to walk in with the necessary things to prepare the bath and Karliah closed her eyes, sighing heavily.

They say when a door closes, another opens… but right now she felt herself in a cell with no doors but the one that was just shut in her face, sealing her in while sealing her fate as well.

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

Her eyes were trained on the boat as it was pushed out further to sea until the oars could be properly used, her heart bleeding for the poor princess. She was good, kind and innocent, and it had Karliah worrying for her as she stood next to Sandor. But Dorne, despite their hatred for the Lannisters, were a safe place to be. They didn’t hurt little girls, never had, and with Stannis getting ready to lay siege to King’s Landing, it wasn’t safe for her here. Hells, anywhere but King’s Landing was safer. The thought had her eyes moving to Sansa as she stood by Joffrey, her heart aching and she yearned to stand next to her beloved niece. Yet she remained at Sandor’s side, her heart racing as she dared to look up at him. He’d been so… kind… he hadn’t laid a single hand on her, not even in public, he hadn’t ‘broken her in’, he hadn’t even spoken to her or looked at her… Sandor wasn’t a man big on public displays of affection, she guessed that from the second she laid eyes on him and watched how he held himself, but a part of her was thankful that he was as distant as he was when they were alone as he was in public. They didn’t eat together, the only time they saw each other was passing by or at times such as these, where their presence was required and expected. They shared a large bed yet none of them ever came across the middle, he was always gone before she woke up, his side of the bed messy after his slumber, his armour and weapons gone.

As Sansa spoke briefly with Joffrey, Joffrey left, walking past Sandor and up the steps. “Come, dog” he ordered and for some reason, Karliah felt a hint of anger at how he spoke to Sandor. Sandor watched him walk up the steps, waiting until Ser Meryn had walked up, moving to leave when Karliah grabbed his hand out of instinct and he turned to her. It was the first time they’d even touched since he pecked her on the cheek at Baelor’s Sept and unlaced her dress for her so she didn’t have to struggle with that and now that she touched him, even though his hand was armoured and gloved, he hated it when she let go and looked ahead, averting her eyes from him and letting go of him. He could see from the way her chest rose and fell that she was breathing heavily, her jaw clenched and tense and he loathed himself for turning around to follow the king.

Once he was gone, Karliah closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath, one of her hands pressing against her stomach as she felt faint. Why would she do that? Why would she care? Why? Why did she do that? She moved her gaze to Sansa as she approached, Karliah forcing a smile at her, moving her hand to her upper arm, gently rubbing it in silent comfort. “Aunt?”

“I’m alright. I am, I promise, I’m just feeling a little faint, this new dress is-... tight” she admitted and it wasn’t a complete lie, it wasn’t quite the right measurements around the waist and stomach, perhaps the tailor thought she ought to lose weight, a notion that almost made her scoff, as though she didn’t have bigger things to worry about than her weight. “Come” she urged, urging Sansa to walk in front of her and up the steps, her eyes moving to Tyrion who gave her a sad look and she gave a brief nod, a subtle thanks for his sympathy at her ‘predicament’. As she walked with Sansa through the city, an uneasy feeling began to grow in her as she listened to the people, her heart starting to race and she moved a little closer to Sansa, looping her arm with hers and when Sansa looked at her, Karliah gave her soft glance filled with worry, which snapped Sansa back to reality, this time actually listening to what the people was shouting, her own heart starting to race as Tyrion ordered the prince Tommen to be taken back to the Red Keep immediately. Karliah looked over her shoulder at Tyrion who looked at her with worry. He opened his mouth, no doubt intending the same order for Sansa and Karliah, when the people threw actual shit at Joffrey, Karliah’s eyes wide and had it not been because this was the start of something dangerous, she would have laughed. Loudly. But she didn’t, instead holding Sansa close to her side. “Go. GO” Karliah hissed, urging Sansa in front of her with her handmaidens, making sure they’d reach the keep first, keeping them in her gaze until a man reached for her from the crowd, grabbing her by her arm and she let out a scream as the man’s hands began to desperately tug at her clothes.

She wasn’t even sure what she had screamed, but she knows she screamed a name as she kicked the man in between his legs and when he doubled over, his face met her knee, wrestling herself loose from the others that had tried to grab at her as well and she stumbled forward, right into an armoured chest and she didn’t even get to see who it was before she was thrown over a should, her hands covering her head desperately as a passerby tried to grab her hair, tugging it loose from the braids and all she saw after a grunt and movement from whoever was carrying her was the man dead on the ground, a hole in his neck from what could easily have been a dagger.

Suddenly she was put down on a crate inside a building, her eyes wide, tears filling her eyes as she couldn’t catch her breath, her dress too tight and her vision began to blur with even more tears. As she heard a ripping of fabric she could suddenly finally breathe, taking a deep breath, lifting her head to look up at her rescuer, her eyes wide when she saw who it was. He was kneeling in front of her, his hands grabbing her shoulders as he looked her over for injuries. She’d without a doubt have a bruise on her arm from where she had been grabbed, but he reckoned the man that had grabbed her had it far worse, on account of the kick in the balls and knee to his face. Her breathing was still erratic, adrenaline pumping through her, it had been so long since she felt that kind of fear, the kind where you know you might get killed, she’d seen them tear off the Septon’s arm, the same man who’d wed her to the man in front of her now. Without thinking she lifted a shaking hand, cupping his burnt cheek in her hand and at first he flinched at the touch, until he relished in it, the gentle touch of it and she looked around to get her bearings, only to realise something. “Sansa?? SANSA?!” she called, standing up, ready to march outside again when Sandor stopped her, making her look up at him “let me go! Sansa-”

“I’ll find her. Stay here” he ordered in a growl, forcefully making her sit back down on the crate before braving outside again to find her niece. She glanced at her shaking hands before closing them into tight fists, shutting her eyes as she tried to make them stop shaking, only to jump as someone touched her shoulder, opening her eyes to see Tyrion. “Lady Karliah, where’s your niece? Where’s Sansa?-”

“I lost sight of her in the crowd, I couldn’t see her, I don’t know where she is, S-Sandor went out to find her but I-I don’t-”

“Shh, shh, it’s alright” Tyrion soothed as Karliah was on the verge of sobbing, his hand soothingly rubbing her shoulder, taking in her ripped dress “did they do that?”

“N-No, S-S-Sandor… I-I couldn’t breathe-”

“Smart thinking” Tyrion stated with a forced smile, trying to calm the woman down as she fretted over her niece, clearly being driven mad by simply just-... sitting there, while her niece was missing. As the doors opened and Sandor walked in with Sansa over his shoulder, Karliah sprung up as Sansa was put down, instantly running over to her, hugging her tightly, smoothing down her ruffled hair, tugged loose from the stylish way it’d been done, holding her as Sansa sobbed into her shoulder, clinging to her “shh, you’re okay, you’re okay” Karliah soothed, trying not to sob herself in relief, her knees feeling weak as her lower lip trembled “shh, I’m here” she whispered, parting from Sansa to look at the cut on her lip, her torn clothes, and her anger only built, her blood boiling with rage. Karliah gently led her to a crate, sitting her down on it, her handmaidens swarming around her as Tyrion asked if she’d been hurt, Sansa gently shaking her head and Karliah looked up at Sandor, covered in blood, and she wanted to kiss him, a thought that was far too fleeting at the moment to truly stick out. “Thank you… thank you, husband” she whispered, it was the first time she’d used that title in any other way than sarcastic or as venom on her tongue, Sandor studying her before nodding and she leaned up, kissing his scarred cheek, her lips lingering, as though she wanted to stay but she leaned back down, blood covering her lips, just small specks, but she didn’t seem to even notice. “Thank you” she whispered again before turning to Sansa, kneeling down and cupping her bruised face gently. “Come, get her to her chambers” she ordered the handmaidens, the girls nodding before helping Sansa up, Karliah hurrying off with her, though she did hear one thing…

“Well done, Clegane.”

“I didn’t do it for you” Sandor mumbled and Karliah looked back, seeing him looking at her and she gave him a nod before hurrying back to Sansa to escort her to her room.

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

It was late when Sandor finally returned to the chambers, Karliah instantly standing up from sitting at the foot of their bed, her nerves wrecked as she approached Sandor, taking in his still bloodied state. She swallowed the lump in her throat before walking over to a chair, pulling it out and gesturing to it. “Please” she asked softly, Sandor eyeing her with suspicion before scoffing “finally gonna slit my throat, are you?” he asked bluntly and it actually managed to make her smile, a scoff leaving her lips as she lifted up her dress just enough to show him her calves “I’m unarmed” she admitted, Sandor stepping closer, still with suspicion. “Humour me. Please?” she asked, less nervous than before and he sighed deeply, reluctantly walking over and sitting down in the chair, his armour rattling. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he didn’t expect her to gently take his sheathed sword from his gloved and armoured hand, placing it against the nearby table before going back to him, helping off the rest of his weapons before placing them near his sword. He watched her movements carefully and with slight suspicion as she walked to his side, her fingers still visible to him as she began to remove his armour and he had no clue why his heart was racing the way it did. “What are you doing, dove?” he asked as he looked up at her, his movements slightly stiff because of the metal he wore and she studied him closely before resuming her quest to remove his armour “helping you with your armour.”

“I can do that mysel-”

“I know you can. I want to” she admitted quietly, Sandor studying her closely before looking ahead again, Karliah nodding to herself. She removed the armour with surprising skill, it made him wonder how the hell she knew so much about removing men’s armour. He’d heard her drunk words to Tyrion at their wedding feast but he’d thought it was just that, drunk words. “You know how to remove armour” he noted as she was nearly done, a smirk tugging at her lips as she kneeled in front of him, helping him out of his armoured boots as one of the last things. “I know how to put it on, as well” she admitted hesitantly, daring to look up at him before looking back down as she worked and he could swear that he saw her blush. “I-... may have donned armour… once or twice… and they don’t make armour for women, so men’s armour was the only choice I had” she admitted quietly, almost as though she was actually worried about what he might think, as though his opinion of her mattered to her. “When?”

“Robert’s Rebellion-”

“You were part of Robert’s fucking rebellion?” he asked with a laugh and she looked up at him, forcefully giving a harsh tug on the boot which finally pulled it off of his foot as she glared lightly at him “my sister was kidnapped, of course I joined the damn rebellion.”

“By doing what? Singing until your enemies gave up and decided to kill themselves??” he asked almost in a demeaning way as he laughed again and she scoffed at him “if only it had been that easy. I should have thought of that, I’m sure it would have worked” she muttered sarcastically before beginning on the other boot. “No, my sister taught me to fight, so I donned a man’s armour and picked up a bastard sword” she stated plainly, looking up at him as she tugged off the last boot, staring right into his eyes “I was at the trident” she admitted, finally looking away and he frowned a little at her “and you didn’t die?”

“Obviously” she muttered and rolled her eyes, standing back up after putting away his boots. Sandor stood up to get out of the chair but she pushed him down by his shoulders, walking over to a table with a bowl of water, gently wetting a rag before walking back to him, moving to stand in front of him, so close… he could lean forward and bury his face in her stomach, he could nuzzle against her and breathe in her scent… Which was a ridiculous thought, of course. Of course he wouldn’t do that, he wasn’t some piss-ant soft, stupid, love-sick lord.

She gently grabbed his chin, which snapped him out of his daydreaming (which he’d never admit that it actually was), and turned his face up to look up at her, the rag soaked by warm water, not cold water, and she gently wiped the blood from his face. “Thank you, for saving my niece’s life” she stated softly as she wiped the blood from his face with gentle hands, his own hand reaching up to take her wrist and stop her movements. His hand was so big that he could wrap it entirely around her wrist without even squeezing. She kept her eyes on his and he shifted a little under her heavy gaze, his hand finally letting her go and she resumed her gentle care for him. “And yours” he grumbled and she actually laughed. It was brief and quiet, but he’d made her laugh and smile, a hint of shock taking over his features but she didn’t seem to notice, or if she did she just didn’t comment on it. “Yes, that as well. Though I’ll admit that I’m more thankful for what you did for my niece… my brother’s children, they’re-... my life” she admitted with a soft smile and he realised something. She was opening up to him… she was opening herself up, talking to him, caring for him with gentle and featherlight hands… wasn’t he supposed to, like… open up as well? Like you open up to people who open up to you, right? That’s how it works?

“My brother-”

“Is an arse” she finished, giving him a brief smirk before using a dry area of the rag to gently wipe away the water from his face. “But yes, thank you for saving my life as well. And for many other things.”

“What other things?” he asked before he could stop himself and she blinked at him, surprised at his lack of knowledge of these ‘other things’. “On our wedding night, you unlaced my gown, then went to sleep… I thought-”

“You thought I was going to rape you” he muttered with slight anger, looking away from her as she remained quiet. “Yes” she admitted, Sandor looking back at her and she sighed, moving away to put the rag back in the bowl where she hesitated. “Many men would have… I never wanted to marry… marriage has-... never been for me… every man who has tried has-... run off screaming when they’d see how I behave… I won’t apologise for being myself, but-... it did make me wonder… I gave up on the idea… but I suppose, under these circumstances… I’m thankful that it’s been you” she admitted, turning her head to look at him, finding him already having turned to look at her as well. “You’ve never touched me. You’ve never laid a hand on me… You’ve been kind to me, you’ve saved my life, saved my niece’s life, been kind to her… I’d say you’re the perfect husband” she stated with a genuine smile before walking back to stand in front of him, smirking a little at him “you may stand now, Sandor Clegane” she stated with amusement and he scoffed but stood up, about to turn away when she grabbed his hand, this time it was her skin against his and she smiled faintly as she looked down at his hand, a small frown forming on her face yet that smile never left, that smile that made his chest tighten and knees feel unsteady. “You’re so-... warm” she muttered, mostly to herself, and he realised that aside from at their wedding ceremony, they’d never actually touched skin to skin. “I remember at our ceremony but-... I knew my hands were cold back then” she admitted nervously, looking up at him with a soft smile “thank you, for being the perfect husband” she stated softly, leaning up and kissing his scarred cheek before walking over to the bed, getting under the covers after blowing out the candle and he stayed put, his chest tight, his heart racing, his hand tingling and he could feel her lingering touch… What in Seven Hells was this?

[youcancallmekathyp]

Widojest for 29 👀

send me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a drabble

“I thought you were dead.”

-

i miss them your honor

There’s a million things he could say. A million excuses he could find, but truthfully, Caleb knows that none of them would do her justice. He’s been a fool, maybe he’s always been one, but he can’t blame that on her either.

Life’s been hectic, and it’s been easier to stay by himself while trial preparations have been going on, burying himself in books when he hadn’t been called in for interviews to document all the things he’d been so carefully guarding for years.

It’s terrifying. Especially when he’s by himself at night, when he doesn’t have anything, or anyone, to shut up the voices in his mind.

Maybe that’s the reason he’d left in the first place.

“Jester.” He remembers hearing her voice ever now and then, telling him about the boat and Fjord, and remembers hearing the joy vanish from her words until they’d stopped coming completely.

Thinking back on it now, Caleb thinks that there must have been some magical interference, Aeor’s magic is strange after all, and maybe part of him had been glad not to be reminded of the fact that he’s not quite over her, and maybe never will be.

“I’m sorry.” He says the words out loud, and truly means them, though he knows they must sound hollow to her where they’re now standing in the small apartment he’s rented in Rexxentrum, the one she’d somehow found without even asking and appeared just minutes after his own return, barely giving Caleb time to take off his coat.

There’s cuts on his arms, and a burn across his chest from where’s he’s triggered one of the arcane traps, but Jester can’t see either of those things, and Caleb thinks that, maybe, that’s for the best.

“You don’t get to do that, okay? I know I can be annoying, but you don’t just get to disappear and not say a thing!” She reaches out to swat his arm hard, and Caleb wobbles just a little before he regains his footing.

He doesn’t quite remember the last time he’s slept properly, having spent most of the time in Aeor saving his spells and resting in the dome, but maybe he deserves this. Deserves watching an angry Jester storm out of his apartment.

It’s just that she...doesn’t.

He can still feel the impact of her hand on his arm, but it’s replaced by the way Jester throws herself against him, arms wrapping so tightly around him that Caleb can’t quite breathe for a second.

He doesn’t complain though, not when he can feel her familiar warmth against him as she buries her head against his chest and squeezes a little tighter, and for the first time in weeks, months maybe, he feels strangely alive.

“You don’t get to do that ever again, you hear me?” Jester mutters, making no effort to let go of him, and Caleb doesn’t ask her to either, simply wrapping his own arms around her, too.

‘I’m sorry’ isn’t quite enough to convey just how he feels, but then again, it never really has been.

[jojo0039]

*Pogue for Life* The Bells Part 1

Jo wakes up to Kie leaning over her poking her in the face.

"What do you want?" Jo groans in annoyance.

"Come on, we need to talk in private." Kie whispers as she pulls on Jo's arm.

She groans and sits up.

She spots Rafe still sleeping on the floor with a pillow.

She feels slightly bad for him.

She hasn't slept without him in about a month and it feels strange.

But it feels like she is starting to think clearly.

Kie drags her into the bathroom.

She shuts and locks the door behind them.

Kie grabs the hand that has the diamond on it.

"What the hell is this?" Kie asks about the ring.

Jo sighs in exhaustion.

"I know. It came as a shock to me too. I thought I was never gonna see any of you guys again. And the longer I was there, it just kinda made sense and I fell back in love with him." Jo tells her.

Kie has a brief look of understanding on her face.

"How is he?" Jo asks hesitantly, not able to say his name.

"He misses you, every day. We all did." Kie tells her.

"I'm sorry. I saw him pointing that rifle at the boat and my head went with the first thing, and that was to give myself to him. I didn't regret it, not until I seen you." Jo admits to Kie.

"We need to find a way to get out of here. Clearly he wants Denmark Tanny's diary. If we can convince him to let us go, we can find our way back to the guys." Kie suggests.

"Yea, but he's not just gonna let us go just like that. And I mean what about Rafe? We can't just leave him here." Jo says.

"I need to know if you're with me. I mean really with me." Kie states.

"You know I am." Jo tells her.

"Then trust me. We're gonna have to ditch Rafe." Kie tells her and she looks hesitant.

"Things are different now Kie, I can't just up and ditch Rafe."

She holds up her left hand to remind her.

"Besides, we may need him on our side if we have to fight our way out of here." Jo reasons.

"Okay, okay. But we have to talk to Singh alone." Kie states.

"Alright, you get their attention and I'll hold Rafe off the best I can." Jo tells her.

They automatically do their Pogue handshake.

Jo freezes afterward and feels tears in her eyes.

"I can't believe I thought I would never do that again."

Kie pulls Jo into a hug.

"I need you to focus. Save the tears for our friends." Kie firmly tells her.

"You're right. Let's do this."

Kie opens the bathroom door and Rafe sits up.

"I thought you left." he speaks to Jo.

Kie storms over to the window and bangs on it to get a guard's attention.

"Get Mr. Singh. We need to speak to him."

Kie speaks through the window.

Rafe instantly stands up.

"What are you doing? Shut up. Shut up."

Rafe goes to storm over to Kie, but Jo blocks his path.

She places her hands on his chest and pushes him back.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" he demands to know.

"Like I owe you an explanation." Kie glares at him.

She storms past them to get to the door.

"Why is it every time you're with your pogue friends you always choose them over me huh? I am so sick of this shit Joanna!" Rafe raises his voice at her.

Kie starts banging on the door to get attention.

"Listen to me, Kie and I need to talk to Singh, okay? This doesn't involve you." Jo tells him.

Rafe hardens his face.

"I knew you were lying about the diary. You two know where it is." he accuses with a look of betrayal.

"This is between me and Kie. It has nothing to do with you. I just need you to trust me." Jo states.

"No! No! Everything you do is my business. The day you chose to come with me and put my ring on your finger is the day you gave up that right to just push me aside."

He steps back to see both of the girls.

"Think about this for a second and look around you. I'm the closest thing to a friend you have Kie. You better start realizing that." he tells them.

Kie just glares at him.

The door unlocks and opens revealing one of the guards.

"Jo and I need to talk to Mr. Singh, it's important." Kie tells him.

The guard looks and can tell they've all been arguing.

"Yes."

He moves out of the way so Kie and Jo can walk past him.

Rafe clinches his jaw in anger.

                                                    ***********************************

Buzz is putting bags in the car as another jeep passes him.

He knows that it is Singh's men looking for the kids.

He is looking at his phone and sees that he has a text from Cynthia.

He knows that he is spending way too much time here, but he needs to find his daughter.

He quickly runs back to the small shack that John lives in.

He spots Carla and John on the back deck.

"I need to go back." he states.

"What do you mean? I thought we were looking for the kids?" John asks caught off guard.

"I know. I wish I didn’t have to go back. But I've been gone too long and people are questioning. My wife is pissed off. She just found out I was paying Ward's debts. I need to get back home." Buzz tells them.

John scoffs.

"Its always something else with you! You were never as dedicated as me!" John argues.

"Because I have a family and a career. I couldn't just chase after treasure whenever the hell I wanted! I was there for you when you needed me. I made sure Ward got what was coming to him for what he did! So don't you dare say I wasn't dedicated!"

Carla slowly grabs her crutches and stands up.

"Boys that's enough! I didn't reunite you so you can fight over everything. Buzz I will arrange for you to go back stateside, but our deal isn't over. I am still helping you look for your children. So I suggest you quit arguing like teenagers and help each other." Carla lectures the men.

The church bells go off and the men look at each other.

"Do you hear that?" John asks.

"The bells. Yea. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Buzz questions.

"Hell yeah, buddy. This isn't over yet." John declares.

                                      **********************************

The guard leads Jo and Kie down the steps to the study where Singh is waiting for them.

"You were right, we lied. We do know about the diary." Kie tells him.

"We don't have the original. But we can get you a copy of it." Jo finishes trying to act unafraid.

Singh chuckles.

"I am relieved to hear that you two have decided to tell me the truth." Singh tells them.

"Can I offer you ladies something to eat?"

He signals for his maid.

"No. We're fine." Kie says quickly.

"Relax. Nothing is going to happen to now. You have decided to corporate with me, and you are my guests. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable." Singh says to them.

"I understand, and we're appreciative of that. But we really just wanna get you what you want as quickly as possible so we can leave and be reunited with our friends." Jo tells him as politely as possible.

"I know where it is. But we have to go alone" Kie suggests.

Singh chuckles again.

"How would I know that you'd come back? I need some collateral." Singh gives them a pointed look.

"Rafe is here. Keep him." Kie quickly spits out.

Jo snaps her head in Kie's direction with a small glare.

Singh picks up on the small exchange and stands up from his seat.

"I don't think your partner would agree with leaving her fiancé as collateral." Singh states.

"Look, I know where the diary is. I promise you I can get it for you." Kie states.

"I built this fortune myself from nothing. Do you know how that happened, Miss Carrera, Miss Mills? Hmm? I can assure you, it was not by being a fool." he steps closer to them.

Jo quickly puts herself in front of Kie protectively.

"Don't waste my time girls. The diary holds the key to the ultimate conquest, and that my young friends, is my destiny. You either one of you need to tell me where it is or I'm gonna-"

His phone starts buzzing.

He quickly takes a step back from the girls and Jo releases a breath that she was holding.

She looks down to see her hands shaking.

Her eyes are wide as she glances at Kie. Singh starts laughing.

"It appears we just got a text from our friend Jimmy Portis. From beyond the grave apparently." Jo gives him a look of confusion.

"I don't know who that is." Jo quickly tells him.

"No, you wouldn't, but your friend here does. He's the man who you watched me shoot and kill, Miss Mills." Jo takes a quick intake of breath.

"It seems that Mr. Portis has captured your friends."

He holds up his phone to show a picture of John B and Sarah. Jo's eyes widen.

Singh walks off and Kie and Jo follow behind him.

"Wait! Please!" Jo quickly begs.

"Get the girls back upstairs." Singh commands.

"Please don’t hurt them!"

"Please! Please! Don't hurt our friends!"

The girls get pulled back up the stairs.

"That depends on your corporation from here on out. I will be speaking with you girls again real soon." Singh shouts to them.

[altosk]

　　　If Alexei really wish to die after all of this then mayhap he would have granted his wish, could think of it as 'his last order' if it made him feel better, if he really wanted to keep thinking that Raven was still seeing the world through a small lens. His eyes were open, and he saw just how vast his second chance was, it was Alexei's turn to do the same. That it never... had to end with their deaths, their blood on others hands or each others.

Raven could not help the small smile that twitched at his lip despite the more melancholy look to his eyes. Childish? Much to learn? Alexei was one to talk. The two of them were in the same boat, even if the other didn't see it that way.

❝ ... course i know that.. ❞ His voice hardly above a whisper-

at which part? well. . . all of it.

Casey would probably be disappointed in the both of them if he thought about it too deeply; not very good friends at all. Not good.. a lot of things. Perhaps Alexei only thought of himself as the one in the wrong but Raven did not believe Alexei's commands excused the actions that he took to follow them.

'If there’s anything I’m least worthy of… it’s…'

It remains unfinished in the air but Raven thinks he can fill in the blanks. Perhaps Alexei was right but frankly Raven just wasn't going to accept it that way. Admittedly, it also felt strange to talk like so, but what other path did Raven really have left to walk? Alexei had been right that death threw itself at him every which way and yet, each time, he came out bruised and battered but. . . breathing.

There was a lot to feel about what Alexei said but he couldn't help but focus on the most important part— 'I don’t want to die'

And oh spirits he just might if Raven didn't get his ass in gear. He and the tree are barely able to keep Alexei from hitting the floor when everything finally gets the best of him, eyes widening as Alexei's sentence trails off into silence.

❝ ah hell! ❞

Raven shouldn't have wasted all that time when he could have already started healing Alexei. After those hours of sleep he certainly had more energy to heal the other once again but he was not looking forward to the fact he'd have to get them back to Dahngrest. He had no supplies on him that would help them survive the night outside. Oh, what he wouldn't do for Karol and his magic little bag right now.

❝ you owe me big time... ❞ Raven grumbles. ❝ and ya really better not die on me... ❞

and thus the days begin to pass · · ·

It had been truly amazing how much he could get done while Alexei had been out of it, but unfortunately that didn't come without it's worry. Between each task he'd needed to go out and do, he'd come back to check on the man who rest silently in the bed. His chest only ever rising and falling in soft breaths with no sign of actually opening his eyes.

The day after he'd gotten Alexei back to the city he'd run into Karol who had a pages worth of news to catch him up to speed, after nearly sobbing his eyes out that Raven wasn't dead and definitely no ghost wandering Dahngrest for eternity. That sounded like a horrendous fate actually and he finds himself also thankful that it isn't the case. It would be kind of funny to haunt Harry for the rest of eternity.

So Yuri had gotten hurt in Zaude, but how..? It hadn't been Alexei that he knew. Karol explained to him they'd be on stand-by for a bit until Yuri's recovery, which had made plenty of sense to him and he could be thankful for the extra time he'd been given. When Karol had turned around to ask Raven where exactly he had gone, he'd simply brushed off that it hadn't mattered now that he was back.

right?

The guilt could eat him alive later, keeping this secret from them.

However, now he had both Yuri's condition and Alexei's condition on his mind, it left talking to Estelle complicated, even if he could really use the princesses abilities right now. Unfortunately, their friend was a much higher priority than. . .

Two days later Raven nearly cracks getting a healer to look over the older man. Had it been worth risking his identity to make sure he wasn't on the verge of death? Probably, honestly, yet he'd still found himself hesitant; so foolish. Maybe if he could find a trustworthy one. Trust was very limited now-a-days. . .

Another day and he's running a quick task for Harry. The day after he wonders if Alexei really will ever wake up again. He has little knowledge of a comas.

Raven's found he's simply lost track of the days now. He's in, out, checking on Alexei, out again. It feels like the same day everyday. Just moving on autopilot. He's feeling tired today though. He'd just finished changing the bandages wrapped around Alexei's worst wounds. His body is showing signs of healing naturally on it's own but Raven still sometimes helps speed up the process with his artes. It was his current task as he pulled up a chair beside the bed, eyes occasionally flicking to Alexei's face.

It was also one of those rare days he hadn't left the house, so he remains dressed down and his hair not pulled up in it's usually messy ponytail. A lazy day would have been nice if it wasn't spent worrying over the other resident in the house.

His eyes feel heavy. No sun shines through the window today, dark clouds cover the sky and he thinks it's going to start raining soon. It spoke for the soreness in his joints and his real lack of energy. Resting for a bit probably wouldn't hurt yet he finds himself not scooting the chair back to stand, remaining seated where he was. A yawn is covered by his palm.

Raven leans forward with his arms crossed against the mattress beside Alexei's sleeping form. Heavy eyes just watching his face before they drift shut and the guildsman dozes off with the soft pitter patter of rain against the window as a soft storm rolls in.

Alexei’s expression twitched the very second Raven opened his mouth, shouting with such an uncharacteristically booming voice. He could have sworn the life was yelled back into him, just then.

Raven was infuriated, and had every right to be, jumping from one thought to the next without missing a beat, and without losing any of his fire… that was until he paused a moment, and right then, it felt as though Raven had made the sudden decision to bear his soul before him.

“I didn't want t' lose the last friend i had from that time!”

…The last friend? …Since when had he—?

He hadn’t realized until several seconds after Raven had finished speaking that his jaw was left ever slightly agape, lips moving silently as if wishing to speak words his mind hadn’t even the time to process. But finally he would find himself, compose himself, and with a testing glance he managed a smile.

“If I did wish to die here… would you even let me…?”

There was a hesitance, long enough that it served as an answer in and of itself, even after Raven answered with a quick

“If that’s what you want”,

It was evident how it made him feel. Even if Raven was truly willing to let him see his death through… it wasn’t something he wanted, and Alexei couldn’t bear to put that weight on his shoulders.

“…How childish you still are, to consider me a friend. Surely you realize… this is not how friends ought to treat each other.” If friends were what they were… then Alexei had been a truly terrible one. Perhaps the worst friend to ever live.

“….You’ve still so much to learn… it’s baffling… how foolish you are.” Alexei choked in the midst of a soft chuckle, vision fading white for a split second.

“If there’s anything I’m least worthy of… it’s…”

Your friendship?

Your respect?

You…?

There was no telling how he’d intended to finish the thought, for he so quickly brushed past it.

“…Forget it… It’s just a relief, to finally hear you talk about yourself like this… to hear you accept that you’re alive… that you’re human.” Alexei was able to focus just long enough to really, truly smile at the other, even as his hand clutched desperately at his wounds, temperature declining further and further.

“…I don’t want to die… not when you’re finally starting to live.” It was uncertain whether the tear that dripped down his cheek was caused by the pain, the exhaustion, or by the very topic at hand. He’d been too dazed to notice it himself.

“I… wouldn’t be… able… to…”

White.

All he could see was white.

“…To—“

Alexei, no longer able to hold up his own head, slumped back against that tree in a mere instant, hands falling stiff at his sides as his breathing grew faint.

…At the very least, he was thankful he hadn’t had to die alone.

[charnelhouse]

stone age love

gif by @bestintheparsec

Pairing: Alpha!Din Djarin x F!Omega!Reader Wordcount: 3.87K Warnings: ABO dynamics. dub-con i guess bc of heat and fucking you through it? violence. asshole alpha trying to take you. din being possessive and primal. Storage-Room sex. Summary: You go into a heat without Din nearby. Shit ensues. A/N: title from The Runaways' Cherry Bomb

Din knows there’s something off with you the second they land. You’re flighty - fidgety - your skin dewy with sweat as you keep trying to shove your hair out of your face.

You stand up suddenly - swaying on your feet before you press your hand to the transparisteel. The galaxy blooms behind the spray of your fingers - the branching patterns of white stars and dual moons. Your eyes sweep over the console and into the great abyss below. You look past clouds and the damp stain of rain until the planet begins to form and color.

“I’ve never been to Corellia,” you murmur before you turn back to him. Your gaze is distant - distracted. Din barely knows you and he doesn’t want to intrude, but you simply don’t look right.

Your smell is off. Your heart thrumming like a startled bird in your chest despite the fact that the trip had been smooth.

“Coronet is just a bunch of shipyards,” Din shrugs. “There are a couple of casinos though. Might be a good spot for a meal?”

You nod absent-mindedly - your fingertips drifting across the fogged glass. The sea churns below them and he can see the shadows of boats and deconstructed TIE starfighters. Black husks dotting the landscape - hunks of metal. It’s a strange planet with all of its steel and production - flanked by the humid maw of jungle at its corners.

“I just have some business at the Eastern docks,” Din reminds you. “Why don’t you get us a table at one of the Casinos. There’s a few on Diadem square.”

Your lips twitch in agreement before you scrub your hand across your face.

He might as well try.

“Are you alright?” he finally asks.

“Yes,” you reply as your jaw ticks and ticks.

***

It’s like he senses it before he sees anything. He feels strange - dismantled - as if the ground is moving rapidly beneath his still feet. He’s walking towards the casino and the inner parts of him are screaming at him to run.

Get there. Get there. Get there.

It’s like a hurricane of overstimulation. He can smell too much - his heart is pounding at the back of his mouth. It all seems to zero in on you and the baser spirit of him - the Alpha - the creature that hadn’t really reared its head in years - begins to rise.

Maker - what the fuck was happening to him?

Din kept to himself. He isolated because he hated feeling out of control. The fact was that if an omega went into heat near him, it would send him into a tailspin. It was why he was careful about who he associated with - who he allowed near him.

You’d - you’d told him that he didn’t have to worry.

He believed you.

Or maybe he’d been too distracted by your face, your skills piloting the jet, and your right hook.

When he enters the casino, the space of the room nearly blinds him. Too many faces and too many smells. The bar spins and spins as he marches through booths with unsavory characters - expression carved with scowls and glares and where the fuck were you?

He pauses - grasping the railing that overlooks a pale blue pool. Hanging plants and towering palms and lush fruit and blooms decorate the inside - strange of them to grow in a place made of sterile marble and credits.

He tries to focus on what’s in front of him, swallowing the saliva that’s coating his tongue.

You’re not in sight. You’re not here, but he can smell you and that scent begins to articulate into something that he understands. It’s the climb before a heat - the faint ache of a true, body-shaking heat. He should have known. He had not only dismissed it but had just allowed to you walk through this crowded city without a second thought.

He follows the trail - shoving past different people and creatures - praying to whatever higher power that might listen that there hadn’t been any other Alphas in the vicinity. Both of their types were rare, hardly extinct but still uncommon.

He hears you - a muffled whimper as a door opens and he runs through it. He slams past a stunned waiter and into a long hallway. It’s full of shadows and storage boxes and he must be going deeper into the Casino, but he can’t even think straight. He needs to get to you and fast and he hears you again - the faint stop - please don’t - just stay away - and Din really fucking sprints.

***

You’re pressed into a corner. Your entire body shaking and curling in on itself. Your heart is pounding - frantic and near-violent and he thinks that if it goes any harder, you might die.

You’re not alone, though. There’s a man stalking toward you. He’s dressed in a suit - slicked back hair - young and tanned but his expression has fallen into something mad - twisted.

Your eyes catch his helmet over the bastard’s shoulder and you cry out in relief. “Mando.”

The man whirls around and it’s obvious that he senses who Din is - that he registers another Alpha and his gaze narrows to twin slits.

“Saw her first, Mandalorian,” he grunts.

Din tries to settle the primal piece inside him that is clawing to get out. He’s trying to snap it back - keep it collared because it feels as if all of his senses are roaring in his ears. He hadn’t dealt with an Omega in years and his possessiveness over you - his desire to make sure you were safe has completely overtaken him.

He’d slaughter this man if he’d have to. He squares his shoulders - drawing his fingers over the handle of his blaster as he straightens to his full height.

He towers over the man easily, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“She wasn’t yours to begin with,” he snarls carefully - the heat in his voice brushed in cool indifference due to his modulator. “You need to leave.”

The man’s face doesn’t change - merely traces the Mandalorian - judging him - assessing him - perhaps seeing if he could win. He turns back to you and his mouth parts - his chest puffed out and Din already knows what he’s going to do.

He jumps at you - hands outstretched and something low and ragged sounds from Din’s chest at the slight - at the attempt to even touch you. He lunges for him - gripping him hard around the neck before they both go crashing to the floor.

Din sees red and everything scalds to black.

***

He doesn’t come back to himself until a few minutes later. The man is unconscious beneath him - his jaw and eye swollen purple and heinous. There’s blood splattered over the floor and the wall. He’s panting as sweat drips down his spine - his scalp - and he shakes his head to chase away the fog.

“Fuck,” he grunts as he stands back up - as he cracks his knuckles and tries to rear the predator in him back. Calm down. Breathe. Calm Calm Calm.

“Mando,” you call out and he sighs - the relief of your voice and it’s almost like he can’t help it when he moves toward you - when he wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you fiercely against him. It’s instinct as that feeling pulses inside him, as it rushes through his veins and lungs - adapting to him again. He tilts your chin up to cradle your jaw - his visor dancing over your features - your trembling lip. He presses his thumb there - burrowing it into the tissue and you gasp - your own grip demanding at his hips as you stare up at him like he’d breathed new life into you.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

You nod - seizing him - dragging him closer.

“It’s - shit - it’s your heat,” he mutters. “It’s coming and we need to get back to the ship.”

You blink rapidly before you step away from him - your pupils returning to normal as you try and get a hold of yourself. “We should - we should find -���

You stop and it’s like it all falls into place. It’s like your smell explodes against him and you stumble forward as he tries to catch you - hauling you roughly against his chest and oh stars the fucking smell - it’s everything at once - the base organic foundation of their makeup - their chemistry - the way they fit together - biological - animal - Din doesn’t fucking know but your scent is like everything he has ever wanted - desire and pleasure and slick - every woman he has ever fucked and the open secret of her cunt and it all slamming down into you and then boomeranging into him -

“Shit,” you wheeze as your fingers scramble against his armor. Your skin is searing hot enough that he can feel it hovering beneath his helmet. “Oh - fuck,” you shudder. “It hurts.”

Your pain stings him and he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so attuned to you - he doesn’t really want to know because those answers might be exactly what he had tried to avoid his entire life. It’s like fucking magic - like destiny or something equally sentimental and out of his control.

Still - he cannot have you suffer. It would kill him.

He snatches you roughly around the waist and hauls you down the dim stretch of the hallway before finding an unlocked room. It’s a utility closet or maybe a space for staff, but he can’t care - doesn’t have the fucking time.

“Mando,” you sob as another cramp consumes you. Your shivering in his arms - teeth clicking as you leave a film of sweat on his armor. “Mando - please.”

He tears his glove off and places his bare palm against your cheek - you go rigid - your lashes fluttering as your mouth parts and oh maker he can sense the rest - savor the rush of liquid at your core and when he sweeps his thumb up the line of your throat you whimper and tremble and duck your head as if he’d shocked you.

“Is this okay?” he asks. “Is it helping?”

“Not enough,” you grunt as you squeeze your thighs together. “Not-t not enough.”

He curses again before he’s pinning you to the wall. He snakes his hand down your belly - past the band of your pants and pushes two fingers through your folds. You’re soaked - drenched - and you groan softly - dropping your forehead to his chest as your cunt puffs and swells around his fingers. He moves them diligently - grazing them over your slit - across the peaked bud at the apex of your sex.

“Wet little thing,” he husks as you moan against him. “So wet, sweet girl.”

“More,” you beg. “Inside - please -”

He can’t resist you - he knows he’s fucked already. He knows he’s going to take you - he can’t just leave you to your heat and it was already over the second he smelled you. He brushes his helmet against the side of your head in the mock of a kiss.

“Okay,” he relents before he’s curling his fingers and sinking them deep. You clamp down almost immediately and he plunges them slow and even. The sounds are lewd in the silent room - sloppy and liquid beneath your desperate moans.

Your pelvis grinds into his hand - wanting wanting wanting - and he rasps, “I’ll help you. Fuck - omega - you smell - you smell good.”

He’s out of his mind. He feels your walls spasm around his fingers - feels the push of slick and your breath-soft orgasm. He removes his hand as he tears at your pants - rucking them down your hips and revealing your naked skin. Your smooth thighs and precious cunt. His throat thickens at the sight - his cock unbearably hard.

He keeps you in place as he fumbles with his belt - taking himself in hand as you spread your thighs for him as you entwine your knee around his hip.

“Mando,” you hum. “Mando. Mando. Alpha.”

You’re not really there anymore. Your eyes rolling back as you try to swallow - as you tug and part and plead. He begins to breach you - the head of his cock snagging at your tight entrance. It’s all so slippery and yet still difficult until finally, he thrusts forward and he hits the end of you. You gasp - hands around his neck as he quickly lifts you up. You’re speared on his cock and the feeling is beyond words - the molten heat and sharp grip of your sweet cunt swallow him to the hilt and fuck it feels like he has come home - it feels as if he has arrived at a destination that he had searched and searched for - every morning waking up and thinking where are you going and where have you been and wouldn’t you be happy to have someone who fit - who completes you - all of his primal instincts - the dirt of his character and his species reaching for his heart and brain and demanding that he do what he is made for -

He’d denied it. He’d buried it just as he is burying his cock inside your cunt - just like he is stretching you open and making you sob with pleasure. He grips your hips and pounds you frantically - dragging himself through the fluttering channel of your sex over and over again as each pump strikes you up the wall and punches whimpers from your throat - ragged and torn and full of satisfaction -

He wishes he could kiss you - he wishes he could sink his teeth into your shoulder as you arch your neck beautifully for him. Demanding.

“Mando,” you huff. “Mando - please - your mouth -”

He cannot give it to you. He knows enough of himself - knows his values and his past and he cannot do it here, but maybe - someday - somewhere -

Your walls expand around him and he feels the hard nudge of his knot, slipping through his length. Your cunt thrumming around him as you climax again and again and make room for him to settle at the most intimate place inside you. He could not do this to you if you weren’t in a heat - your body would be incapable of it - but still, it comes and comes before he feels it push against your gaping hole and you grunt at the blunt snag of it at your entrance and then it continues - far far into your womb and he can’t think of the outcome or the possibility - just that you - an Omega - his - needs him.

***

He settles beside you as soon as his knot deflates. The both of them spread out on the floor - you naked and wet and his cock - soft and red - and still out of his pants. He touches your face gently and you lean into it. Your eyes are clearer - your skin less feverish. It won’t last. It might return in a mere hour - maybe even sooner.

“Thank you,” you whisper - your voice catching - cracking. “That - you shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew - I told you I was on - on medication for it, but we got waylaid in Tatooine and I couldn’t refill them and didn’t want to be a bother - I thought it wouldn’t come.”

He chuckles, but it lacks a lick of humor. “That was a pretty dangerous chance to take.”

You flinch and he immediately feels bad. You hadn’t meant for this to occur.

“I didn’t think it would - it would happen because it was never regular,” you explain. “Maybe it’s because I’ve been living with you - so close to an Alpha? Fuck - I am so sorry.”

Your shoulders heave and Din thinks you’re going to start crying, which he has no experience at handling. He doesn’t do tears - they unnerve him.

“Hey...hey,” he soothes - rubbing your arm. “It’s alright.”

Aside from potentially killing that other Alpha, but Din’s done worse.

You snort though it seems like it takes a great effort for you to make any expression that isn’t half-blown panic. “I hate it,” you whisper. “I fucking hate the whole thing - having to bend my will to some Alpha and it’s never all that nice. It’s - it’s a means to an end - it’s just to stop the pain and I hate subjecting myself like that to someone I barely know - oh shit - I didn’t mean - not like you of course - that was - that was honestly really good.”

Pride blooms in his chest and Din is thankful you can’t see the smug expression enveloping his features. He palms your cheek and he suddenly wishes that he could remove his helmet and rub his face against your own - scent you and then kiss down your body until he’d scrape his jaw along your wet cunt and taste you there.

“We should go back to the ship,” he advises. “Before it comes back.”

You nod, your lips curling into a pleasant smile that makes Din’s heart skip. You were honestly too beautiful for him - too lush and sweet and he could not wait to be inside you again - maybe actually memorize the feeling - the sensation for his future days after you had inevitably left him. A lovely memory to have - one that would warm him on his colder nights drifting through space.

He presses the back of his hand to your brow.

“You think you have time?”

You nod again, chewing your lip. “Feels distant - far away.”

“I’m going to check out the casino - make sure no one is looking for us after I - uh - took out that other guy.” You grimace and he pats your knee. “Lock the door and don’t open it until I come back.”

***

It takes a fucking hour - there are security guards milling through the crowd and Din overhears that the man he’d beaten the shit out of was actually one of the club owners. He maps the way back to the Crest - one that won’t put them under the noses of his security.

Apparently, the guy had yet to wake up and thus mention that he’d been bludgeoned by a hulking Mandalorian. They still had a shot at escaping without a hitch. Otherwise, Din’s damn armor gleamed like a bullseye.

***

As he returns to you - something tugs on the connection. He senses your mind - senses a rise of anxiety and then panic and then your smell begins to waft through the halls and burns like incense.

When he turns the corner, you’re outside the room. You teeter on your feet - yanking at your clothing as you trip over yourself. Your leaking sweat as you try to blink through the fog that’s currently drowning you.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He races toward you just as you collapse. A sharp wail falls from your lips and he pulls you closer - pressing you against his chest to muffle the sobbing.

“Shhh, pretty,” he murmurs. “Shh - you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“It hurts,” you grunt. “I - I waited and it came back. I can’t - can’t-”

He shakes you a little - tilting his helmet down to meet your eyes. “Stay with me,” he urges. “Stay with me, Omega.”

He uses the title to get your attention - to make your body respond and understand that he’s there.

You’re going limp - your head falling backward over his elbow. Your body shivering and emanating scent and heat. It’s cloying and it makes him unstable - he can’t think clearly or get a sense of direction. It turns everything to blurred edges.

They’d never make it back to his ship. He’d have to take a chance - fuck you quickly enough to tide you over. Even though they were on borrowed time and it felt like the walls were closing in and his baser self was shrieking danger danger danger -

He carries you back into the room - gently laying you out on a small table. Your eyes are wandering - mapping the ceiling as your lashes flutter and your breath grows stilted and short.

“Omega,” he says again as he grips your thighs and hauls you to the edge. Your slick wetting the surface - smearing fluid over your lap and his crotch and your color has gone off - has turned to something grayish and bleak.

This was bad - this was worse than before. It was a heat that had run too long - like leaving a scalding hot shower or flame burning for hours until it scorched the room.

“Fuck,” he hisses before he runs back to the door to make sure it’s locked. You needed him - his skin - his mouth - his saliva. He comes to a decision as his hand finds the light switch. It’s against everything in him - his code - his beliefs - but his nature is warring against it - knifing it through and winning -

You - this omega - comes first.

He rips his helmet off as he returns to your side. The table wouldn’t support the both of them so he lifts you off - spreading you out on the dirty floor. He bears his weight above you - dropping his head to push his cheek against yours - dragging his nose across your jaw and lips and dampening you with his own breath.

You begin to find form - slightly returning to yourself as your fingers find his pauldrons and you cling to him - a whine slipping from your mouth and he moves lower - capturing your lips in a clumsy kiss that lacks any real expertise as he tangles his tongue with yours.

It’s all instinct. All desire and panic and desperation.

“Alpha,” you grunt - your knees digging into his waist. He hitches your thighs over his hips - unzipping himself to find his cock. There is wave after wave of scent - of sex and cunt and spend and the inner lining of your body - of your species that is made for him. You gasp into his mouth when he slots his hips between your legs - nudging his cock through your folds and sinking to the hilt. You’re still full of him - his seed thick inside you from where he had first laid claim. He drives forward - thrusting through it - his balls tightening up at the thought of it leaking out of you.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs - saying your name - the real one. He brushes his lips across your jaw - down your throat as he nips at the pulsing patch of skin that waits and waits -

He begins to fuck you - he saws his pelvis and takes you in long, slow strokes - his thumb at your clit as his knot pulses and grows. It’s certainly a scene: shadows between them and all that wet noise of slapping skin and traded frantic kisses.

He wants to possess you, but he has enough wherewithal to avoid it now. He wouldn’t bite you or mark you unless you asked with clear eyes and clear senses.

“Mando,” you purr - not Alpha - not a beg, but something appreciative and longing - something dipped in desire that he can read beneath the instinct of their bodies. He thinks he can give you something as he grinds into you - as he shoves himself as far as he can.

He catches your wrist in the dark and pulls it to his lips. “It’s Din,” he whispers to the pulse - bouncing it against the pump of blood and omega so that it hopefully reaches you. “Call me Din.”

[noforkingclue]

Your Life (Tommy Shelby x reader)

I’m in a dark and angsty mood this evening. Hope you guys like the fic!

Warnings: dark, contemplating suicide, possessive behaviour, Tommy being Tommy

Tommy Shelby tag list: @alreadybroken-ts

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @imjustassaneasyou, @spngingerbread21

You wrapped your shawl tightly around yourself as you shivered in the cold night air. You could faintly hear the sounds of the ongoing party just below your feet but you had no desire to re-join. You reached into your bag as you pulled out a packet of cigarettes and swiftly lit one. You inhaled the smoke, your craving temporarily satisfied, and exhaled through your nose.

You looked up at the dark night’s sky, stars shining high above your head. You wondered how nice it would be if you were able to fly. To outstretch your wings and take off. To leave all your worries behind and escape the life that was forced onto you. You wanted freedom, a different life filled with love and devotion. A life that you wouldn’t get if you stayed in Birmingham. You wouldn’t get the life with the man you loved if you had stayed. He wouldn’t have allowed it.

You flicked your cigarette butt over the side of the ship as a door behind you opened. Soft golden light spilled onto the deck as the sound of party goers briefly increased. Then the door was firmly shut, once again plunging you into the darkness. You reached into your bag and cursed when you found that you were out of cigarettes. You wished that you had more to drink, you didn’t want to have the oncoming conversation sober. Instead you rested your arms against the railing of the boat as you looked into the inky water below you. How easy would it be to throw yourself overboard. To let the water fill your lungs and drag you to the depths below. You’d remove every single piece of yourself from his life. He wouldn’t even have your body to bury, you wouldn’t allow him to touch you even in death. Your hands gripped the railing tightly and you wished you had the courage to do that but when his heavy outdoors coat was draped over your shoulders you knew you were trapped. You wordlessly took the lit cigarette he offered you as he moved to stand to your right.

“He’s dead isn’t he.” You said flatly

A fact and not a statement. He wouldn’t allow another man to get away with touching something that he deemed was his. Tears leaked out of your eyes as you angrily brushed them away. Damn him to hell for making you cry in front of him, for showing any weakness in front of him. You had just shown him your hand and now he was going to ruin you.

“Hmm.”

“At least tell me one thing- was it quick?”

Tommy looked over at you, his gaze unreadable. For a moment you feared the worst and then, to your relief, he gave you a brief nod. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding and rested your head against the railing. That was the most you could hope for. Even if you didn’t know if it was true or not, you couldn’t help but hope that Tommy was telling the truth. Hope was all you had left in this world but nobody stole from Thomas Shelby and hoped to get away completely unwounded. While a small part of you had hoped that your escape to America would’ve been successful you knew realistically it wasn’t going to be. Thomas had people everywhere. Someone was bound to have spotted you and informed on where you were going.

“So what now?” you asked quietly

“What are you talking about?”

Tommy had gone back to looking out over the ocean. You felt rage boil in the pit of your stomach and you took a deep breath trying to calm yourself down. This was the man who had just killed the person you loved without a second thought. The man who was going to drag you back into his world just because he wanted you. He didn’t care about your feelings. All that mattered to his was getting what he wanted.

“I’m talking about- shit!”

Tommy looked sharply over at you when you swore. The cigarette you had been neglecting had burned down and ended up burning your fingers. Tommy threw his half-finished cigarette over the side of the boat and took your burned hand in his.  You shivered as his warm, rough hands clasped around your and his lips twitched in amusement. He took a step closer to you and he pulled you against his chest. You stiffened against him, unused to Tommy showing you any physical affection.

“It’ll be ok,” he said as he examined your hand, “Everything will be ok.”

“Tommy.”

“Yes, love.”

You pressed your forehead against his chest, not wanting to look at him when he called you the nickname you so despised.

“I want to go home.”

“Home,” Tommy’s other hand came up and tilted your chin so you were forced to lock eyes with him, “You made a point of running away from your home and now you want to return? Why?”

“Because…”

Your voice trailed off, the words you so aching wanted to say to him stuck in your throat. You felt tears fall down your face. Tommy’s hand moved from your chin to brush them away.

“Yes?”

His tone was teasing. Light and playful, you had only heard it on rare occasions. He was playing with you. He knew why you didn’t want to go.

“I want to hear you say it, love.”

His lips were by your ear, grazing against it in a mock gesture of affection.

“You know why.”

“Tell me.”

And in a flash his voice hardened. His grip on your hand tightened painfully and you cried out,

“Because I don’t want to be there with you!”

A thick silence fell over the two of you and you looked at the floor. You didn’t see the brief flash of pain flash over Tommy’s eyes before his gaze became hard again.

“It was meant to be a new start,” you continued quietly, “Away from Small Heath. Away from Birmingham. Away from the Peaky fucking Blinders. I just wanted to get away from it all.”

“To get away,” Tommy said quietly, “Wouldn’t that be nice.”

You tried to pull free but Tommy was stronger. He moved you so you were pressed against the railings, your back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, successfully trapping you in his coat. In the past Tommy would take every opportunity to see you in his clothes. A mark of ownership, a branding so everyone could see who you belonged to.

“You’ll get your fucking break,” he continued quietly, “Just the two of us in America. No distractions, no business. Ok?”

You were gripping the wooden railing so tightly that you were sure it was going to splinter. Tommy put his hand over yours and squeezed it harshly.

“Ok,” you said quickly, “Ok.”

“Good girl.”

His arm snaked around you waist and pulled you flush against his body. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your head, thankful that you couldn’t see his face, before his mask once against slipped on. He pulled you away from the side of the ship and led you back inside.

“You’re fucking freezing,” he said, “Don’t know why you ran off without proper clothing. Let’s get you back inside and I’ll make sure to warm you up.”

The door opened and you were once again bathed in a warm, golden light. You sighed as the cold slowly melted away. Tommy rubbed your arm in what would’ve been a comforting gestured sent chills down your spine. As the door softly closed behind you, you knew that your only chance of escape was gone. Tommy wasn’t going to let you out of his sight ever again.  You might as well start trying to get used to it.

[damiano-mylove]

How you met them and what dating the members of Måneskin would be like

GN!reader, slight NSFW for Damiano *Masterlist*

Vic

You'd definitely meet Vic at the grocery store

She goes grocery shopping every Saturday at 10 am, and you don't know that because you're creepy, you know that because you do as well (being an adult and such)

Over time, you'd both start to notice seeing each other at the same times and places

Vic would eventually come over, after having traded more than a dozen looks with you

At first, she would give you a random complement (that made your heart soar for reasons unbeknownst to you at the time), and you would immediately compliment her back because there are so many things to complement about the unknown girl at the shops

Those random complements would soon turn into full blown conversations that you both looked forward to, every Saturday at 10 am

Conversations turned into doing your grocery shopping together

Vic would ask you to lunch after one of your grocery shopping adventures, which you gladly accepted given the beautiful woman had stolen your heart at first glance

Lunch would go absolutely swimmingly, and it became the new thing

Your relationship with Vic would evolve from doing your grocery shopping together, then having lunch, to basically spending every Saturday together, then seeing each other other days of the week

One night, having drinks at Vic's place, just the two of you, Vic would join your lips together in a sweet harmony that felt all too right

You brushed off the night as drunken kissing

But she held you hand at lunch that following Saturday, and asked to kiss you before you parted ways

The conversation was bound to happen, and it did. After that, you and Vic were officially an item

She introduced you to her friends, and you did the same - your group loving Vic, and her's loving you

Dating Vic would be full of gentle love bites on your tender neck, fruity red wine, painting your nails matching colours, and late nights

On those late nights, Vic would hold you close, a film playing softly in the back, while her attention laid on you

You, her person, her rock. You made Vic's heart go ablaze and she wouldn't trade you for the world

Nor would you for her

Thomas

Thomas gives off strong Boy-Next-Door vibes

One day, your interest was sparked by moving vans outside your window - someone was moving into the flat above you

It was a very loud day (furniture scraping the floors, heavy boxes being dropped, many feet with much too heavy footsteps) but you were baking

You had a function to attend to the following day, so your day was already planned as a day for baking your famous biscuits that literally everyone loved

Ingredients may have a price tag, but kindness does not. Once all the noise subsided, you brought a plate of cookies up to your new neighbour (hoping to at least buy their friendship so they wouldn't annoy you constantly)

When Thomas opened the door, your stomach immediately turned to static

He looked a little tired, no doubt from freshly moving in, but his beauty was still breathtaking

Thomas smiled at you sweetly and thanked you profusely for the biscuits - he told you about how his grandmother made the same type and he loved them

The next day, right after you'd come back from your function, Thomas brought you back the plate with a bashful smile - 'The biscuits were divine, better than grandmama's'

You giggled at his statement, then invited him in for tea and to finish off the biscuits that were "left over" (you'd actually saved them for yourself, but there was no one else you'd rather share them with)

Happily for the both of you, Thomas accepted the invitation, and he stayed in your flat, drinking tea with you and eating biscuits, till the wee hours of the next day

You and Thomas shared smiles from your balconies and the street below, but when you'd be walking the stairs together, it always turned into an invitation for a drink, or to watch a game, or just a chat

About a month and a half of friendship, Thomas asked you to the cinema

You gladly went with him

In the middle of the film, your hands bumped together, both reaching for the popcorn on your lap - resulting in heated faces and looking away

Thomas walked you back to your flat that night, leaving you with a kiss on the cheek and legs made of jelly

That next day, Thomas asked you to dinner

'Is this a date or just a hang out?'

'It can be whatever you'd like.'

To no one's surprise, you chose the former option

You never officially confirmed your dating status, but you'd figure Thomas introducing you to his family as his partner was confirmation enough

Dating Thomas would include him singing you mellow songs in the evenings, longing glances shared across rooms, lots of tea at all hours of the day, and extremely stupid jokes that turned sickeningly sweet

Those jokes would occupy your mind for days on end, cherishing every single joke shared

Ethan

As cliche as it sounds, you'd meet in a bar

There was a game on between Lazio and Milan - and you both were dragged there by your friends

People clamored around the bar and television screens, screaming and yelling, and everyone decked out in jerseys (the Lazio jerseys outnumbered the Milan jerseys 3:1)

Funnily enough, you met Ethan in the corridor for the toilets

'With a line this long, I might as well piss outside'

For a first impression, Ethan really did make an impression. One that made you laugh and his cheeks tint red at the knowledge that someone heard him say that

It sparked a conversation while you both waited in the long lines

You discovered that neither of you held too much of a love of football, which absolutely tickled you that someone was in the same boat as you

Ethan waited outside the washroom for you, then suggested you both go outside for a smoke

With a drunken smile (the only way to get through a football match is to drink, lets be real), you agreed and told the friends you came with where you'd be disappearing to

Outside, you and Ethan shared three fags each and lots of laughter and conversation

Surprisingly to Ethan's friends, when everyone came pouring out of the bar after the game finished, Ethan had you pressed against the wall in a heated kiss

While being the most shy member of the band, Ethan reacted the most prominently to liquid courage, which you were more than okay with

You traded information, and the next day, you woke up to a sweet text from Ethan, asking you to a cafe to get to know each other in a sober environment

No complaints, you went

Ethan was just as funny as he was last night, and neither of you stopped smiling the entire time you were together

You saw each other quite often after that; sharing the occasional kiss, but full of laughter and stupid faces in silent moments

Eventually, you got brave and asked for Ethan to be your boyfriend

His face and ears went bright red, and he immediately looked to his slender fingers, chuckling nervously - but he happily agreed

Dating Ethan would include a hell of a lot of cuddles, lots of reassurance, few kisses but very meaningful kisses, and more laughter than you've ever shared with anyone else

Ethan will make you one of the happiest people on Earth, and in exchange, he is the happiest, just to have you in his arms in the mornings (even if you drool on him in your sleep)

Damiano

Without a doubt, you'd meet Damiano at a bar

There wouldn't be a game one, it was just a Friday night, and you felt like cutting loose with your idiot friends, whom you very much loved

Damiano would spot you immediately

You, of course, had already spotted him, but your friends were drooling over him, and every single person in the bar was as well, so you just put him out of your mind

That is, until he swaggered right up to you while you were grabbing drinks for your friends who were all on the dance floor

His expensive scent intoxicated you better than any booze behind the bar, making your skin tingle immediately. Damiano radiated heat, but that could've just been how warm it was in the bar from all the people

As the bartender was mixing your drinks, Damiano asked you your name

'A beautiful name for a beautiful person'

You thought he was just looking for a one-night stand, which you were actually quite down for

However, the night was still young, and you still had drinks to deliver to your friends, so you thanked him for the compliment and sauntered off to your friends with the drinks in hand

They called you a myriad of names for you basically turning Damiano down to do what? To dance with people you'd known for years?

Fortunately, walking off hadn't deterred Damiano

His eyes were on you for the entire night, until you built enough nerve to approach him

It didn't take too long for him to offer to bring you back to his place - you didn't need more than a second to accept

That night didn't lead to sex, however. Damiano thought you to be drunk to give him any meaningful consent, so he just left you to sleep in his bed, while he took the couch

When you woke up, you wrote your number with the lipstick in your purse on his bathroom mirror, and you left without a sound to wake him up

He called you that same day and invited you to the bar again

The entire weekend was spent going to the bar, sleeping either with or at Damiano's, which suited you just fine

Unfortunately, you had an actual job that required you to go to work, so when he invited you out on Sunday, you had to decline, then again on Monday

Tuesday, however, you invited him to your place for a couple drinks and you ended up falling asleep on his shoulder on the couch

Damiano woke up with you for your job and stayed with you as you got ready that morning, smiling at you through the mirror of your bathroom

Soon enough, your nightly encounters turned into real dates that changed location and theme constantly

Damiano was spontaneous and you loved it

He'd call you the cutest pet names under the sun, and bring you everywhere you were willing to go with him

Damiano never called you his partner; you were his lover

When you'd be alone, he always referred to you as 'Y/n, the light of my life, the only flower in my field, the cream in my jeans'

Made you blush like mad, but that was Damiano's favourite part

Dating Damiano would include doing each other's eyeliner, lots of PDA, reading side by side on the couch with a record playing softly, never falling asleep alone

Sleeping beside Damiano was like sleeping next to a furnace, so blankets were never needed, but cuddling was required

if it sucks, y’all gotta tell me😩🙏

for @fairyth0rns , i hope you like it