#anyways I won’t be going to get tested any time soon because it costs a bajillion freaking dollars to do it

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Actually I need to tell you guys the funniest ongoing thing for me rn. So I’ve been going and speaking to a few professionals about uh… brain stuff and one of them brought up the possibility I might be autistic and just really good at masking. Tbh I doubt it, but she said it was worth checking out and made a note to get me tested.

Ever since then, I’ve mentioned it offhandedly to the other professionals and without fail, every time they pause, lean in and peer at me like they are trying to derive the location of the autism. I mean I guess they’re paying more close attention to whether I can make eye contact or whatever but we’ve already been sitting and talking for the past twenty minutes??? You’re not going to suddenly see it (especially if the whole point is that I’m good at masking) that’s not how that works??? Whdnxbxbx

Like as somebody in the psych field it is so disheartening to see how stereotyped people’s knowledge is of a very common kind of neurodivergence, but also I think this is about the funniest thing I’ve had happen to me in awhile. They are literally looking for my autistic eyes.

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from @wrenstrange! Put up the decorations, it’s finally time again! Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 1957 Warnings: pure fluff, blood sample/needle/syringe, soft!Loki, fatique, fainting

You dropped like a piece of wood right about when you were making yourself a cup of tea in the kitchen. Knees ceasing to support you any longer, vision darkening, stars dancing around you making you dizzy. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and before you knew it, your body finally won and shut down.

Although if you could have chosen, you would not have fallen straight into Loki’s arms whose reflexes caught you, preventing you from hitting the hard floor beneath you. He cradled you with his brows furrowed, his blue gaze almost helpless as he looked at Thor and Stark for support.

Then, everything went black.

-

“Welcome back.” You blinked, the artificial lights above your head blinding you. A hand held you down when you attempted to sit up drowsily. Bruce was leaning against a metal table in Tony’s lab, hands crossed before his chest and with a concerned expression on his face. “You blacked out,” he explained, “out of the blue.”

“How are you feeling?” Tony added.

You only realised then that it was Loki who had held you down. He was sitting on a chair right next to the makeshift bed they had carried into Tony’s lab and he was observing you with Argus eyes. Your heart sped up when you noticed. You usually tended to avoid the God of Mischief at all cost. There was a part of you that was afraid of him after watching him making an entire crowd kneel in Stuttgart, the other was hands down swooning over him. It had all started when he had rescued a cat from a tree, honouring a cliché he had not even been aware of. But someone who helped defenceless little kittens had to have a soft heart deep down, no?

Thor had brought him to Earth along with him after Asgard had been destroyed. He could not exactly be considered an Avenger but he had long surpassed the villain image… at least, to some extent. Well, you were no Avenger either. You used to be a SHIELD intern and then somehow ended up with the superheroes themselves. Apart from some basic fighting skills and the ability to use a gun, you had been trained to spend most of your time in front of a computer, often working twelve hours or even more a day. What did they say? Evil never sleeps.

“Any idea what might have caused this?” Bruce continued.

You shook your head. “No. But I’ve been having migraines and a persistent fatigue that just won’t go away.”

“I see… anything else?”

“Um…”

“You can talk to us, (Y/N).”

“Well, I… I’ve been dizzy a lot lately but that sometimes happens during my special week of the month so I didn’t think anything of it.” You took a deep breath but hesitated.

“And?”

“I’ve been sweating way more when working out. Like, a lot more. Instead of making progress… I feel like I’m getting weaker every day. It’s frustrating.”

“Uh-huh. I’m taking a blood sample. FRIDAY will run a couple of tests on you to figure out what’s wrong.”

“What? No! Nothing’s wrong! We don’t need a b-blood sample.”

“No one faints for no reason, (Y/N), especially not on Loki.” Loki rolled his eyes but did not leave your side, even when Bruce started fiddling around with some gear and apparently, a first-aid kit and then approached you with a syringe and a small clear vial.

“I’ve done this a million times before, I’ll be gentle.”

“No! No, no blood test, Bruce, please!” Almost hysterically, you moved back on the bed, your heart in your mouth.

“(Y/N),” Loki suddenly said calmly. You shivered when he spoke your name, his head tilted slightly. “Are you afraid of needles?”

“N-n-no…” You lied. Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Look at me.” He said. Hesitating only a little, you did as you were told. It wasn’t like his tone allowed any contradiction anyway. In fact, it reminded you a lot of his strict and bossy tone when he had caused chaos in Germany. “It has to be done. Hold my hand and do not take your eyes off of me.”

“Who are you and what you have done to Reindeer Games?” Tony tossed in, throwing the Trickster a suspicious glance. Loki rolled his eyes once more. As if he had any obligation to explain himself to Stark of all people.

In the meantime, you were panicking even more. Loki was being nice and considerate with you and Bruce was about to pierce your skin with a needle. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… your breathing sped up.

“Look. At. Me.” Loki repeated. You obeyed this time, allowing him to take your hand and press it gently. Much to your surprise, it immediately calmed you down a little. You gaped at him unbelievingly. You didn’t even feel the needle going into your skin and drawing blood. Wait… was he casting a spell on you?

“There. All done.” You could not bring yourself to look where Bruce brought your blood sample but when both Tony and he stepped away and turned their backs on you, you swallowed.

“T-thank you…” You had to ask—not because you did not think he was not capable of offering his help without seeking a personal advantage and not because you didn’t think he was too evil to even think about being selfless… but because you were genuinely curious about his motivation. Loki did nothing without a reason, he was always one step ahead. “You put a spell on me, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “Why… why did you do that for me?”

“We are all afraid of something.” It was the only response he gave you. For a few moments, you merely sat there quietly, neither of you uttering a single word. Only when Bruce and Tony returned did you realise that Loki was still holding your hand.

“Okay… I’ve got the results from your blood test and FRIDAY couldn’t find anything suspicious.” Tony announced, scrolling on his tablet. Bruce adjusted his glasses to take a peek.

“You said you’ve been feeling tired? You sweat a lot, you get dizzy, and I’m presuming you barely have an appetite?”

“I don’t have time to eat a lot to be honest…” You confirmed.

“Any concentration problems?”

Pressing your lips together to a thin line, you thought about it for a moment. Now that he mentioned it… it had gotten obnoxiously hard to focus on your work lately. Eventually, you nodded.

“Sounds like severe exhaustion to me.” Bruce said. “Do you have issues with low blood pressure or diabetes or any other medical condition? No, FRIDAY would have found something like that. You know what I think? You overworked yourself.”

“Like… a burnout?” You probed.

“Most definitely.”

You grunted. Oh, that was just great. There you were, attempting to squeeze in regular workouts in this awesome training hall the Avengers called the HARM room after work to get stronger and hence, eventually gather up the courage to speak to Loki and now you looked exactly like what you did not want him to see you as—a weak and meagre human.

“The best medicine would be for you to quit work for a while and stop physical exercise altogether.”

“Banner is right,” Tony added. “Take a few weeks off and rest, sleep in, eat more and healthy… the whole program. I officially give you a holiday.”

“You’re not my boss, Tony, you can’t give me a holiday.” Your smile was weak. “But I don’t have time for this anyway! I can’t believe this is happening so soon before Christmas!” You whined. “I can’t stay in bed, I’ve got so much to do! I have to buy presents and decorate and bake biscuits and make gingerbread… Besides, I’m gonna fall behind on all the data.”

He shrugged. “I’ll take care of that. Let me talk to Fury. You let us know if you need anything. Can you take her to her room, Reindeer Games? And please, no funny business.” Beside you, Loki was just frowning, utterly ignoring the billionaire’s request.

“Why were you pushing yourself so hard?” He finally spoke when the two Avengers had left—whether it was genuine confusion or mere curiosity in his voice, you were not sure. “Why were you training for battle in the first place? I have never seen you out on a mission.”

You sighed. Time to let the cat out of the bag, it wasn’t like you were still going to make a good impression on him anymore now.

“I wanted to impress you, I guess…”

“Impress me?” Loki repeated incredulously.

“Yeah… catch your attention… in a way. I mean, part of me is still terrified of you, of course but… you have a good heart, Loki. I knew when I saw you rescuing that cat from the tree.”

The God of Mischief rolled his eyes. “I knew this was going to damage my reputation.” He responded with a sly smirk, making you grin. “It was an innocent kitten, what was I supposed to do?”

“See?”

Your heart skipped a beat when his blue eyes locked with yours. He appeared… uncertain; not used to dealing with affection. Loki swallowed.

“Can you walk?”

“I’m not sure…”

The God of Mischief sighed, his lips pressed together to a thin line. Without any hesitation, he snuck one of his arms under your knees and wrapped the other around your waist. He lifted you off the makeshift bed as if you weighed nothing—and to him, you probably didn’t.

Loki carried you to your room in utter silence and eventually lay you down in your bed. Your heart jumped when he sat down on the edge of the bed himself, with a peculiar interest in his hands so he would not have to look you in the eye.

“There is no need to impress me.” He suddenly said. Your head shot up. “I did not think anyone would even… never mind.”

Oh. It almost felt like you were finally getting to know each other, for real this time.

“Do you want to stay for a while? I was going to watch some Christmas movies if I’m not allowed to get out of bed.” You sighed. “I can’t even decorate. You have no idea how many decorations I have to put up. None of the others care to make it a little more festive here, especially not Fury.”

“Yes, I have seen the boxes.” Loki replied. “It’s a little… corny, wouldn’t you say?”

“Honestly, when living among superheroes who risk their lives every single day, you could use a little corny.”

“I see.” Loki simply waved his hand and before you knew it, your entire room was decorated. Green and red tinsel shimmered on your window sill, holiday lights were blinking above your door and fake—but incredibly real-looking—snowflakes hung from the ceiling. Many of your favourite decoration items were now sitting on your nightstand and your desk, including your tiny little Christmas tree. The rest of the decorations, so it seemed, Loki must have spread all over the Tower.

“Oh my Goodness… Loki, this is amazing!” The God of Mischief winked and when you looked down on yourself, you noticed you too were wearing a green and gold Christmas sweater. Heavens, you could kiss him. “Thank you so much! What did you… is the entire Tower…”

“Yes.” He confirmed. He didn’t have to. Tony did only a fraction of a second later.

“Thor! Can you tell me why my Ironman helmet just grew metal antlers? I swear to God, if Reindeer Games has something to do with this…” It was then you exploded with laughter despite your exhaustion.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[keysmashingfantasies]

An Old Fashioned Meet Cute

A/N: hi! this is my first fic here and i hope you like it. comments and constructive criticism is very much appreciated just please be nice and i tried not to describe nor reader nor the Hilda character too much apart from the fact that they are plus size so it can cater to more people (altough the Hilda character is a white woman originally, I left that out because I wanted everyone to be able to read it) :D. and a huge thank you to @divine-mistake for encouraging me to make this blog and post my fics. ily Tay <3, this one's for you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!plus size Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Bucky didn’t remember much of his life before the war. Not as much as he would like, anyway. But he was content to at least have remembered something. The memories of his teenage shenanigans with Steve always made him laugh. But there was a memory that he didn’t even know it was on his mind until that day when he accompanied Steve to the thrift shop. And until an Avengers party, where he met you.

-

“Steve, come on… Shouldn’t you be showing me the wonders of the modern world?”, he mocked. He knew Steve was doing his best, he did. But he knew that this wasn’t just a friends’ afternoon. And Bucky didn’t need a babysitter.

“I will! I just thought it would be nice to see something less overwhelming first and Sam told me a thrift store would be a nice place to start. Most of this stuff is new to us anyway”, Steve said, picking up a CD of a shelf.

“Yeah, ok”, he mumbled. The things he did for Steve. He mindlessly wandered through the little cluttered store, browsing the shelves full of knick knacks. He saw vinyls, old books, a great variety of toys, some paintings and an old fashioned vanity, with an old mirror, a few vintage perfume bottles, and… Oh.

“Steve?”, he said, picking up the old calendar that was propped up against the stained mirror. Carefully, he lifted the calendar up, looking at his friend. He had seen it before, he knew he did. He flipped through it as he waited for Steve to make his way across the store, careful to not bump in any of the tables containing delicate porcelain tea pots. His eyes scanned through the cover, a delicately painted picture of a curvy woman and with the saying “HILDA, 1940’s calendar” in bold red letters above it.

“Oh wow”, Steve let out a belly laugh. “You remember when we stole some of these? Man, we even took these to war”, he said. He started to remember. Him and Steve running, each one with a calendar in hand, flipping through the pages, Steve whining that he would never find a girl like that. He didn’t even think twice before taking it to the counter, with Steve giggling like a school girl behind him.

“For the memories, punk”, he said in a stern voice and a frown, but with pink dusted cheeks.

“Of course”, Steve said in a mocking voice.

-

“So, Tony’s throwing a party next weekend”, Steve said as he entered the training room.

“I prefer the thrift store”, Bucky mumbled, without tearing his eyes from the punching bag.

“Come on, Buck. I think it will be good for you to go”, Steve said. “It will be something small, Tony will introduce the new team assistant, so no eyes will be on you”, that got Bucky’s attention.

“Small?”, he said, pushing his hair from his face.

“Very”, Steve assured, but he had that look that Bucky knew very well from his young years; the look he would get when he was about to pick a fight. He was up to no good. But he didn’t want another trip to a dusty thrift store.

“Yeah, sure”, he mumbled.

-

You were shaking in your boots. Yeah, you knew that you would work for them, which meant that you inevitably would have to attend this kind of things. But this wasn’t like your former office jobs, no. You work for the Avengers now.

“You can do this. You have to. Do it for the paycheck”, you said, trying to reassure yourself as you shakily applied mascara. As you browsed through your wardrobe, you let out a sigh. You remembered shyly asking for advice on what to wear from Natasha, but you took it with a grain of salt. She could wear a potato sack and still look gorgeous, and you were… Well, a potato. You knew this was another test. If you couldn’t handle all eyes on you and the eventual bickering that was about to happen, you were not fit for the job. But damn, you at least expected a few weeks of taking care of documents and serving coffee before a party. In a room. With the, quoting the tabloid you read that very morning “super team that saves the world and looks hot doing it!”. You were a pretty confident person. But this… Anyone would be nervous.

“You can do this”, you told yourself one more time before heading out.

-

When you got to the party, not everyone was there. You politely greeted everyone with a nod, and gave your name to the ones you didn’t have the pleasure to meet yet.

“You, pick your poison”, Tony Stark pointed at you while walking to the bar.

“No, thank you, Mr. Stark, I won’t be drinking tonight”, you managed to say, silently thanking all the gods above (even the one that was sitting not too far from you) that you managed to hold back the quiver in your voice.

“She doesn’t want to be vulnerable around us. Smart, I like her”, said Natasha. Sometimes you wonder if she was a telepath like Wanda.

“Is there anything wrong, Y/N? I sense that you are uneasy”, asked Vision, with those glassy unblinking eyes. You wondered if he was in your mind that very moment.

“Gee, I wonder why”, said Rhodes, before taking a sip of his drink.

“I’m okay, just… A bit nervous, that’s all”, you said.

“Well, then you definitely need a drink”, said Tony, handing you a glass of champagne that no doubt cost the same as your previous paycheck.

Soon enough, the awkwardness made way to pleasant conversation. You laughed as you listened to their banter. It wasn’t like any business party you ever attended. No, it was more like a family gathering than anything.

The sounds of the elevator doors opening caught you attention as three men wide as refrigerators walked in, followed closely by a pretty young woman. Of course you knew them. You read all about them. Especially The Winter Soldier, the little devil on your shoulder taunting you by remembering you of every single time you talked to your friend about your crush on him.

“Sorry we’re late guys, Steve went to pick me up before the party and we had dinner”, said the blonde, linking her arm with Steve Rogers himself.

“Nah, Sharon, don’t cover his ass. We were late because the three of us had to wrestle Barnes into changing out of that old ass Henley”, said Sam.

Instantly, Tony and Natasha cheered and raised their glasses, making you laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny”, said a gruff voice coming from the bar, making you turn your head, seeing Bucky Barnes open a beer bottle with his vibranium hand. 'How did he sneak past everyone?', your thoughts were interrupted as you took him in. You wanted to personally thank Sam, Steve and Sharon for making him wear that tight fitting black shirt.

“Well, Y/N, here’s Capsicle, Mrs. Capsicle, New Captain, and Snowflake. Guys, this is Y/N, the new assistant. Oh, and there’s Spider Boy but he’s on curfew, Strange had to hop out of the dimension and Scott but he’s… He’s somewhere out there being small, I don’t know. Watch were you step, just to be safe”, said Tony

“Hi”, you gave a shy wave, being greeted right back.

-

If it wasn’t for the serum, Bucky is absolutely sure he would have a heart attack on the spot. You were wearing red heels, a form fitting black pencil skirt and a white button up blouse and he could see your curves, your strong arms, your thighs. You looked absolutely amazing. You look like one of the girls that Bucky would’ve rushed to ask for a dance back in the day. But what really made him stare is the fact that your body type looked eerily similar to the character of the calendar he spent an embarrassing amount of time staring.

As your eyes scanned the room as you were bombarded with questions, Bucky made sure to avoid your gaze, looking everywhere but your face: his shoes, the ceiling, the armrest on the couch, Steve’s shit eating grin. Oh. So THAT’S what it was about. Little shit.

Even avoiding your gaze, he made sure to keep his ears open. A man could be interested, right?

.

By the time the party ended, Thor and Bruce were sleeping, Tony was buzzed walking around singing Iron Maiden, Natasha and Sharon were talking, Steve and Sam were giggling like two school girls, Rhodes went home and Vision and Wanda were talking and looking out the window to the New York skyline.

Which left you – and Bucky – alone.

“Uhhh. I guess I’ll start cleaning, then”, you said. Your face was on fire. The only person that you were sure didn’t like you and you were awkwardly standing, not knowing where to look and what to say. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him but damn it, you were not going to lose this opportunity because of a school girl crush. So you decided to keep yourself occupied by taking some empty glasses and bottles from the table and taking them to the kitchen.

“Oh, come on, Y/N! Let the cleaning crew deal with this in the morning!”, said Natasha.

“No, no, I don’t mind. I like to keep myself busy”, you said with a smile. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. You only hoped she couldn’t see how awkward you were.

“I’ll help”, he said, picking up some glasses and following you.

“You can pick up more of these glasses and I can start washing them”, he said. “I- I noticed you got your nails done, so…”, he said, and you shyly looked away while thanking him and making your way out of the kitchen.

.

In no time, the room was getting emptier. Vision and Wanda went home and Thor took Banner back to New Asgard. And you were almost done with the dishes, having also gotten rid of most of the empty food containers. As you both cleaned, you and Bucky got a bit more comfortable with each other.

“I’m sorry for seeming a bit standoffish earlier”, he said suddenly. “I’m not used to parties and I don’t know how new people will react to me. Especially pretty women”, you smiled at the compliment, but felt your heart ache. You were so caught up in your insecurities that you didn’t even consider his side of things.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I don’t know how you feel but by what I’ve seen and heard, you have a family here. You’re out there fighting to save the world. Trying your best. This is redemption enough, don’t you think?”, you said as you put the glasses to dry, missing the awestruck look that Bucky sent you, a goofy smile making its way into his features. “Okay, you wait here and I’ll get what’s left”.

You were back in no time. “Okay, so just more two champagne flutes and one plate left”, you said but before you could give the dishes to Bucky, you slipped, and if it wasn’t for Bucky’s reflexes, you would’ve fallen hard. You yelped as the sound of breaking glass hit your ears and for a second you two just stared at each other, before Bucky pulled you closer and back to a standing position.

“Thanks”, you said as he helped you straighten up.

“Your ankle, does it hurt?”, he said.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so”, you said.

“Ah, I think it does. And I can’t let a dame go home alone on a hurt ankle”, he said, giving you a dashing smile.

“You know what, now that you’ve said it, it hurts really bad”, you said, catching on. “You know what’s amazing for a bad ankle?”, you asked, and the gentle smile in your lips and the mischievous glint in your eyes made his heart piston inside of his chest.

"What?", he said softly, stepping closer, like you were sharing secrets.

“Ice cream and a walk on the park. Very therapeutical”, you said, making Bucky laugh.

.

Before you knew it, Bucky had already scooped you up into his arms and rushedly announced that you had slipped and fell, whisking you away into the elevator.

“Dude, that took all night”, said Sam. “This is the smooth guy you told me about?”, he said, while Steve and Sharon laughed.

While everyone got ready to go home, Scott came out of the kitchen in his Ant-Man suit eating some leftovers.

“Someone owes me 20 bucks for making her trip”.

[yinses]

college au! headcanons

gojo satoru, geto suguru & nanami kento

rqst: college au for nanami, geto and gojo?

a/n: so i divided it into three categories to help keep my head straight. honestly almost straight kicked gojo out of college bc i couldn’t decide on a major for him. the jjk discord server is heaven sent for my sanity. ty everyone again 🌺

last time i should have to post these. hoping everything is fine now. 

gojo satoru

MAJOR

—he starts off undecided for a long time. the fact that he’s on scholarship allows him to be more flexible with his classes given that he’s not responsible for costs. he grew up with expectations from his family but university is suppose to be his opportunity to spread his own wings and grow from his experiences.

—so he tries a bit of everything- sciences, music and social studies- anything to prompt a spark. (took a business class once and made a point to sit next to nanami everyday just to annoy him) by his second year he’s getting as frustrated as his counselor because if he doesn’t decide soon he’ll be a potential 5th year senior.

—he’s overthinking it but gojo wants to invest in what he believes will make the most significant impact to his ability. his counselor takes those crumbs and runs with it.

—he gets steered towards political science and actually excels at it (that advisor gets a raise). surprises most of the class with his analytical skills because they thought he was just a pretty boy- surprise he’s beautiful and smart.

—develops a vested interest in governmental policies. might run for president one day idk. brings donuts to his early am class. doesn’t share.

SOCIAL

—he’s not the jock per say, but as the star athlete of the basketball team, the school likes to take advantage of his image to draw in sponsors.

—his face is plastered all over the auditorium whether they’re in season or not. sometimes it’s not even to promote basketball, gojo is pretty and they’re not afraid to use it. which also makes him one of the most recognizable faces on campus.

—due to his student athlete contract, he’s not allowed to sign autographs freely in the event they’re attempted to be sold as quick cash. but yikes, he can barely walk to class without someone stopping him for a picture. to the best of his ability he tries to laugh it off, poster boy image and all, but it gets pretty fucking old and annoying quickly. especially when it makes him late for his next lesson and the instructor shows no sympathy.

—his height didn’t only help him get into basketball, but its also convenient when it comes to shouldering politely through the student masses. his golden rule is don’t make eye contact. the busier the crowds the easier it is for him to pretend like he could’t possibly have heard them.

—gojo doesnt scout fraternities, fraternities scout him. but he’s not interested in the slightest. as an athlete he already gets into any social circle he wants without the additional effort. that and he doesnt think he could tolerate an alpha male trying to exert his dominance without barking back.

—loves to show up to parties but always arrives late enough to the point where they don’t think he’s coming. it helps him slip in when he wants too. he’s a connoisseur of all alcohol varieties and a master of beer bong. he’s not necessarily the life of the party but his presence is kind of hard to miss.

RELATIONSHIPS

—he gets too much attention to date casually. most potential suitors are in it more for the benefits they receive than him anyway. he’s got enough on his plate with career indecisiveness and games to try to pursue anything serious before third year.

—he’s not completely celibate though. he tries to keep the same partners as long as he can. not only to keep himself clean and safe but because he often goes into an agreement to keep it casual. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. either way he gets coined as a ‘heartbreaker’ before the end of his freshman year. frankly the rumors obscure most of the truth and give him more freedom. people always expect that he’s with someone even when he’s not, which helps keep his invasive teammates off his back.

—gojo can easily graduate without securing something tangible but there is still a window for potential.

—you’re both his consistent classmate and occasional friends with benefits. its the former title that keeps bringing him back around. he cant exactly avoid you without subjecting himself to 8am classes. it helps that the sex is good too.

—he can text you an offer to study together for the next test and roll over after an hour and wreck you for the rest of the week. its hard to tell who gets addicted first but he does appreciate the way your skin looks when youre wearing his marks.

geto suguru

MAJOR

—he’s a STEM kid, particularly interested in bio-genetics to improve overall health. he believes that simply becoming a physician just keeps the issue at bay and his goal is to eradicate the problem at its source.

—since high school he’s been cataloging different programs across the country before deciding what he wanted and putting all his efforts into it. so it’s no surprise when he gets in.

—geto doesn’t need counselors but they’re required so he listens to them prattle on about using university as an opportunity to explore. this man came in with more college credits than most sophomores, he knows what he wants.

—always on-time to class and never misses an assignment. also that kid who goes above and beyond, even on the simple stuff. he rarely gets teased about it, not even behind his back. geto straight up scares some people even when he’s smiling.

—not afraid to correct teachers when they’re wrong. in fact he lives for it.

—he’s the one who graduated early and starts his master’s program before most of his age group declare their own majors.

SOCIAL

—he tends to frequent the same circles- handpicking his acquaintances out of class rosters, clubs and honor lists. he’s less in it for the friendship and more so to scout for potential research partners.

—met gojo in one of his science electives and literally carried him through the class. they somehow end up friends but only really hang out at each other’s places- bunch of chill movie nights and pizza.

—there is no interest in fraternities, but he does join university funded clubs that allow him to further his research. they give him unique access to labs, take him on trips to different conventions and have an alumni list a kilometer long for future collaborations.

—the man does not party but he will occasionally slip into quieter bars to ease some of his frustrations. he actually enjoys karaoke thursdays , not to sing for himself but the drunken antics of others bring him some amusement.

—smokes weed occasionally, but only his own product. it helps him relaxand fan out the stress. he never sells it but sometimes gojo nicks some of his stash. given that he gets drug tested often, geto doesn’t know how the athlete never gets caught.

RELATIONSHIPS

—not interested in seeking out relationships in the slightest. the man has a plan and he’s already married to it.

—he’s not completely immune to sexual advances though and occasionally splurges but none of the friends with benefits crap. he’ll hit it once and stay celibate for the rest of the year easily.

—you might be able to squeeze in as his fellow lab partner. remain invested in the work and not him and he’ll start noticing the little details of your company- the way you subtle perfume lingers on his lab coat hours after you’ve adorned for the day, how he knows you have to keep your hair up for safety precautions but he thinks about running his fingers through it daily and your mind, damn, he wonders what else you can come up with when he has you laid out on his sheets.

—if he’s interested, geto won’t hesitate to broach the topic. he’ll ask you out for coffee and when you try to bring up research he’ll be upfront about his attraction. ultimately if you start dating the two of you are an absolute unit- not that you weren’t before.

—you’re the one variable he didn’t plan for but he’s glad to have added you to the equation.

nanami kento

MAJOR

—he was made for the business world, brought by a CEO who raised him to inherit the company. administration major marketing minor.

—takes initiative in all his classes and is often coined as group leader for projects. mostly keeps to himself  and only speaks up when prompted or disagrees with something.

—he takes the earliest sessions possible because it means less people more often than not. doesn’t really care if its in the front, middle or back but always sits near the edge.

—doesn’t really want to but it looks good on his resume so he joins the marketing team where they present mock business plans for competitions. they win a lot. nanami honestly doesn’t care. but again it looks good.

—it only took him a brief summer internship to learn that he found nothing satisfying about board meetings and macro management.

—he decides to invest in law school to handle the company from a legal standpoint instead.

SOCIAL

— sort of like geto, only wants to make friends on a need be basis.

—he would rather keep to himself but knows the benefits of socializing so he interacts with his frequent classmates when he can- through study groups or car pooling to seminars.

—he does join a fraternity, its the same one his father did (and uncles, cousins, whatnot. its a generational thing). its geared towards bettering future leaders. they focus building resumes, charity events and run the organization like a proper business. nanami gets elected president by his third year and runs two terms.

—the only parties he attends are networking events- full of wine and fancy horderves. wine is plentiful but he’s always nursing a scotch on top of his headache. if one more person squeezes their stocks into a conversation he’s going to personally take down the whole market

—zero interest in college party life. spends some of his downtime at the campus theater watching old time movies and classic plays.

—he’s the coffee shop hoe. he wakes up early sometimes just to sit by the window and read some casual literature. has his own thermo that gives him free refills to cart to class. do not talk to this man before he’s had his caffeine.

RELATIONSHIP

—he probably has a high school sweetheart that he’s still clinging too, whether on the same campus or long distance. it helps him because he can’t really see himself pursuing a relationship while focusing on school.

—he’s been with you long enough that you understand his ambitions and won’t feel bested by them. the two of you have a system- starting the day off with sweet ‘good morning’ texts before class and ending the day with long conversations as you digest the last 12 hours.

—nanami is independent but he is thankful to have you to rely on when classes start to overwhelm him. the two of try to escape briefly for the weekend when you can. often going to near by reservations just to get off campus

—other times the two of you will cuddle close on your dorm bed, his long fingers combing through your hair while he reads over some notes for class.

—sometimes you have to be the one to tell him to take a break and to enjoy life while he can. even if that means dragging him the events and concerts hosted on campus. he resists at first but you can see the tension ebbing away as the night comes to a close.

—the two of you start living together in your senior year just because you can. he insists on buying a house. not only because he can afford it because it can be rented out after graduation. always the business man.

[nerdzzone]

Only For A Moment: November [part two]

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: October + November [part one]

Note: Life is very hectic at the moment so this was edited quite quickly. I think I caught all the mistakes, but I’m sorry if there’s any accidentally left in.

______

The photo shoot the next day went amazingly well. After being out of work for almost ten months, it took me a little while to get back into the swing of it, but I hit my stride quickly once I'd settled in. It helped that I was working with people who made my job almost effortless. Sebastian and Anthony had such good chemistry and were so good at what they do that we got through the day with no hiccups and I had more than enough photos to give Marvel what they'd asked for ten times over.

When I got back to the hotel room, I was in a great mood and it was made even better by the surprise for Chris that I had with me.

"Chris?" I called out as I walked into our large suite. "I'm back!"

He lifted an arm to wave from where he was sitting on the couch, his attention still fixed on the football game that was on the TV.

"How was the shoot?" He asked. "How are Mackie and Seb?"

I smiled, knowing he was about to be very excited as I answered him.

"Why don't you ask them yourself?"

That question got his attention and his head shot around to see what I was talking about. As his eyes landed on the two men standing behind me, a grin burst onto his face.

"No way!" He laughed as he leapt up to join us. "Hey, guys!"

All of us - Chris included - had been tested several times over the last few days to make sure that we were all virus free. There was obviously a small chance that one of us could have picked it up some time after one of the many negative results, but I was fairly confident that was pretty unlikely as we'd all been as careful as possible so I'd invited them over for a few drinks. Our hotel room was big enough for us to all keep our distance anyway and I knew that Chris would appreciate the chance to catch up with his friends.

They both greeted Chris before Anthony looked around the room.

"This place is nice!" He observed. "Marvel must love you, you could fit my room in here at least three times!"

"It's not Marvel who loves me," I smirked. "It's Chris - he upgraded our room."

There was a goofy grin on Chris' face as our two guests 'aww'd' in tandem.

"That was too cheesy," Anthony teased. "But man, don't you love me too? Where's my upgrade?"

"I'll get you next time," Chris laughed. "But to be honest, I thought you'd be staying with Sebastian now that you two are a power couple."

Sebastian snorted out a laugh, but Anthony nodded his head.

"I know, man! That's what I said, but Sebastian still won't tell me where he lives!"

"Because you're so obsessed with my couch that I'm worried you'll steal it!"

"Shouldn't buy yourself a five thousand dollar couch if you don't want people to talk about it," Anthony joked, making Sebastian roll his eyes.

"It didn't cost anywhere near that much money. You've never even seen it, I don't know where you got all these ideas from."

"When are you two getting married?" I interrupted with a smirk on my face as they both turned to look at me, their confusion clear. "Sorry, you've just been bickering like an old married couple all day. I was wondering when you were going to make it official."

"That's what we should be asking you two!" Anthony turned it around. "When did this happen anyway?"

"April," Chris answered, sliding his arm around my waist to pull me close. "After a month trapped in a house with me with no other options, she was finally desperate enough to give me a chance."

"That is not what happened," I laughed. "It was more just the fact that being trapped in a house together made us finally have some tough conversations that we'd never had the guts to have before."

"Well, I'm happy for you," Anthony grinned. "And some people owe me some money because I knew you'd get together eventually."

"Wait, you were betting on us?" Chris asked. "With who?"

"Not me," Sebastian was quick to interject, but Anthony just shrugged.

"There was a bunch of us in on it," he admitted. "Downey, Pratt, Renner, Hemsworth, Paul Rudd, Lizzie Olsen, and I think even the Russos. Someone was keeping track of it, I'll have to make some phone calls."

"I don't even want to hear about this," I laughed, shaking my head. I wasn't at all surprised, they were a tight crew and there was plenty of downtime on set for them to get up to all kinds of antics, but I had no desire to hear who was betting on our situation. "So, shall we have some drinks? What does everyone want? I figured we could just order from room service."

After a brief discussion on the matter, we ordered several beers for the men and a bottle of wine for me. It arrived with impressive speed - no doubt a perk of being with a group of celebrities in a penthouse suite - and we all settled around the living room, trying our best to keep some distance between us.

We chatted and caught up, discussing what we'd done to keep ourselves busy through lockdown and when things might start to be more normal - the usual pandemic conversations. The boys were just delving into some sports discussions that were totally lost on me when I received a message from Lisa saying that Grayson was having a bit of a moment and asked if I was able to call. It broke my heart to think of him missing us so I excused myself and did as she asked.

He was crying when she passed him the phone and I felt awful, immediately filled with guilt that we’d selfishly decided to stay in New York for the whole weekend. We would have arrived home quite late if we left right after the shoot, but as I couldn't remember the last time that he’d stayed overnight with someone other than Chris or I, it suddenly seemed cruel to have left him for so long.

He was in bed already, but unable to fall asleep so I chatted with him for a bit before singing him the lullaby that I'd been singing to him since he was born. It worked like a charm and once he was out, Lisa took the phone back.

"Is he doing okay?" I asked, fighting back tears of my own. "Has he been like this all day?"

"No, no, of course not!" She assured me. "He's been totally fine, we've had a great time. He just got a bit weepy as I was tucking him in."

"I'm glad he's been having fun," I sniffled. "I hate to think of him being upset."

"He's just fine, sweetheart," she insisted. "This will be good for all of you. It's good for him to get used to being away from you two and it must be nice for you two to have a break."

"It is," I admitted. "It just feels selfish when he's upset like that."

"Well, sometimes even us moms need to be a little selfish," Lisa laughed. "And selfishly on my part, it's been wonderful having him here."

I smiled, knowing she had been quite excited about their little sleepover.

"We really appreciate you taking him."

"It's absolutely my pleasure. Now, I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing and I will see you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Lisa. I'll message you when we're heading out so you know when to expect us."

She assured me that they'd be home whenever we arrived and we said our goodbyes before I headed back out to the living room.

"Everything okay?" Chris asked as soon as I sat down.

"Yeah, for the most part," I sighed. "Grayson just got a bit upset at bedtime, I guess. He was crying and wanted to talk to me, but he's fine now."

Sensing I was feeling a bit emotional about it, Chris reached out and squeezed my hand as Anthony spoke.

"I was hoping you'd bring the little man with you. How's he doing?"

I smiled as a grin burst onto Chris' face. He went into a long, somewhat boastful explanation of just how good Grayson was doing, informing them of his extensive dinosaur knowledge and his impressive skills on his bike. It was heartwarming to hear the pride in his voice as he spoke and it was even nicer to see Sebastian and Anthony's genuine interest in hearing about him.

"They grow so damn fast, don't they?" Anthony commented. "One day they can hardly move and then suddenly they're practically BMX champions."

"Oh, no," I shook my head. "It took a good five months for me to allow him to take his training wheels off. He won't be BMX-ing any time soon."

"Well, I hear things are always scarier with the first one," Sebastian pointed out. "Maybe your next one can be the extreme sports star."

"Yeah, that's a good point," Anthony agreed. "When are you having another?"

I tossed back my last sip of wine before letting out a laugh at that question and side-eyeing Chris as I poured myself another glass.

"Did Chris pay you to ask me that?"

"No!" Anthony laughed. "But it's been, what? Four years? Seems like it's about time for another."

Chris snickered as he took a swig from the bottle of beer he was drinking, clearly feeling validated by Anthony's comments, but I just shook my head.

"We've been together for less than a year," I reminded them. "That's hardly long enough to start thinking about another baby."

"Sure, it is," Anthony shrugged. "Maybe not if the relationship is brand new, but you already have one kid, what's the harm in throwing another in the mix?"

"And we already know that we can work together as parents through complicated situations."

I shot Chris a look after his interjection because I really didn't think his friends needed to be involved in a discussion like this, but Sebastian chimed in as the voice of reason.

"It's more complicated than that though, isn't it?" He asked. "Babies are stressful and can ruin a relationship if you're not ready for it."

"Exactly! Thank you, Seb."

"What does he know?" Anthony teased. "He's never had a baby."

I rolled my eyes as I sipped my drink, trying to ignore Chris' smug face.

"If you're such a big fan of the idea, Anthony, why don't you have more kids?"

"More? I already have four!" He laughed. "That's more than enough. Hell, after being in lockdown with them, you could have one of mine if you're not ready to have another of your own."

"I think we're good with one right now," I insisted with a smile. "At least until we see where this whole pandemic thing ends."

"Alright, alright, that's fair," Anthony relented. "But just remember when the time comes, Anthony is a solid name. Or even Antonia for a girl."

"Actually," I smirked. "I do quite like the name Sebastian."

Sebastian barked out a laugh over Anthony's protests as Chris came up with a compromise.

"Sebastian Anthony Evans?" He suggested.

"Can you imagine?" I giggled. "Your fans would lose their minds. You'd have to raise him together, you could make a reality show out of it."

"That's a money making opportunity right there," Anthony grinned. "You just let me know when you need me to show up."

"As entertaining as that sounds, it won't be any time soon," I insisted before changing the subject. "What about you, Sebastian? How's your love life going? Any babies on the horizon?"

His cheeks instantly tinged pink at the attention being flipped onto him as he answered the question and Anthony’s teasing shifted to him.

-

About an hour later, after our guests left, I found myself stretched out on the couch with my head in Chris' lap as he ran his fingers through my hair. It felt so good that I was resisting the urge to purr like a happy cat when Chris distracted me with a question.

"How was the shoot?" He asked. "I just realized that I never got an answer."

"It was great," I smiled up at him. "It felt weird at first after being away for so long, but Sebastian and Anthony are such goofs. It helped me relax and get back into it."

I felt his body shake as he chuckled, no doubt knowing his friends well enough to imagine the antics they got up to.

"I'm glad it went well. Maybe now there's more projects starting up, you'll start getting more job offers again and you won't have to go so long without doing it."

"Oh, I've had plenty of job offers," I admitted. "But most of them I'd have to travel for or they just seem too risky."

Chris was clearly surprised by that confession as I hadn't mentioned any of the proposals I'd received to him, but it didn't seem important when I'd never even considered taking any of the jobs.

"Why didn't you tell me about it?" He asked. "We could have worked something out and made it happen."

"Because I didn't want to accept any of the offers," I assured him. "I don't feel super comfortable flying around the country right now and most of them had pretty half-assed safety protocols in place. This was the first one that was close by and had a clear and thorough safety plan. Marvel wanted me for Wandavision too, but I would’ve had to go to L.A. and I didn't feel great about that."

Chris frowned, his fingers pausing momentarily in my hair as he mulled over my answer.

"I get it, that's solid reasoning," he nodded. "But I'm sorry you've had to make decisions like that. I know you love what you do."

"So do you," I shrugged. "So do a lot of people who are currently out of work. I've got it pretty good, I try to focus on that."

"Sure, but that doesn't mean you aren't allowed to miss things too," Chris insisted before letting out a sigh. "Do you ever worry that things won't ever get back to normal?"

As I looked up at him and saw the melancholy look on his face, I felt a wave of vulnerability wash over me.

"Not really," I admitted. "I worry more about what will happen when they do..."

"Oh?" Chris raised an eyebrow. "How come?"

"Well, don't get me wrong, I don't want anyone to get sick anymore and I don't want any more people to die. I want to see my family again and meet my nephew and I want Grayson to be able to go to school and make friends," I prefaced my statement. "But for us, it's been really nice. We've been able to figure each other out and build our relationship without anything else interfering and I just worry that when things go back to normal, it won't work."

The hurt that flashed across Chris' face made my chest tighten. I hadn't meant to upset him, but it was foolish of me to think that my doubts wouldn't be hard to hear.

"You don't think we'll stay together when the lockdowns are all done?"

"No, that's not what I meant!"

"Well, that's what you said..."

"I said it was something I worry about," I clarified. "And I do. It'll be a lot harder when we're both working again."

"It's one thing to think it'll be harder," Chris scowled. "It's another to think we can't make it work. Are you planning on running at the first sign of trouble?"

Feeling the panic bubbling inside me, I pulled my head out of Chris' lap and sat up so I was facing him. I did want to run away in that moment - his harsh tone hurting my feelings and making my defences bubble to the surface - but I reminded myself of how avoiding our problems had worked for us in the past and tried to stay calm and explain myself.

"I'm not going to run away, Chris," I assured him. "And I don't really appreciate the way you're speaking to me right now. You asked a question and I explained my feelings, but instead of wanting to talk through that, you're immediately getting upset. I'm allowed to have concerns and all you're doing right now is making them worse."

Despite my frustrations, I kept my voice calm as I spoke and it seemed to have the desired effect as the tension in Chris' body eased slightly.

"Sorry, you're right," he sighed. "I just thought we've been doing so well, I'm surprised that you still have doubts."

"We're just living in such a bubble right now," I pointed out. "When everything goes back to normal and we're both back at work more, we'll be so busy. Balancing that with making sure Grayson gets enough of our attention, it might not leave much time for us and that would strain any relationship."

"It'll be more of a challenge than it is now," Chris agreed, his words spoken cautiously as if they were carefully chosen. "But most parents struggle with balancing their relationship with time spent with their kids. We'll just have to make the effort."

"But we have more to cope with than most parents."

He looked skeptical of that claim.

"How so?"

"Well, you'll be away a lot once you start filming things again," I reminded him, knowing that his next project had plans to film in L.A. and Europe. "And you'll be surrounded by beautiful, smart, talented women who I pale in comparison to."

"That’s not true, but regardless, I won't even look at them twice." His voice was firm and for a moment I worried that he was annoyed again, but as he took my hand in his and lifted his eyes to meet mine, he just seemed sincere. "I love you, Whitney. I only want to be with you."

"I know, I do, I know that. I love you too and I trust you, but I guess it just still feels like you being in love with me is too good to be true."

"I don't think that you do know," Chris insisted. "I'm completely committed to you. I know it's only been a few months, but it's been some of the best months of my life. What we've been doing - you, me and Grayson just hangin’ out and being a family - it's what I've been dreaming of since he was born, it's what I've always wanted. I can't imagine a future without you in it, I don't even want to think about it. I love you and I love the life we're building together."

I felt my eyes grow glassy as he spoke, my heart melting at his words.

"Wow," I murmured quietly. It was a lame response to such heartfelt words, but I was trying to process everything he’d said and, after a moment of staring into his beautiful eyes, I choked out a laugh. "That almost sounded like a proposal."

Chris chuckled and nodded his head.

"I know. Even I wondered where I was going with that for a minute there," he admitted. "It wasn't, but it's all true. I'm in this for as long as you'll have me."

He lifted my hand up to place a kiss on my knuckles and I suddenly felt ridiculous for having any doubts.

"I feel the same," I assured him. "I really do. I don't want you to think that I'm not as invested in this as you are. I just like how things are now and thinking about it changing scares me."

"It'll be different, but we can make it work."

I smiled and crawled into his laps, letting my knees rest on either side of his thighs.

"I guess I've just been spoiled these last few months," I mused, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. "I don't want to share you with the world, I want you all to myself."

Chris chuckled as our foreheads rested against each other.

"You really are clingy," he teased. "I always thought I'd be the needy one in this relationship."

"Shut up," I giggled, pressing our lips briefly together again. "And for the record, all those sweet, wonderful things you just said aren't getting you any closer to convincing me we should have another baby yet."

Chris' head fell backwards as a laugh burst from his chest.

"Alright, alright, well, it was worth a shot," he smirked. "But seriously, that's how confident I am in us. It wouldn’t even scare me if we did because I know we can handle it."

I smiled even though I probably didn't share quite that much confidence in our future. I wouldn't bet against us, but I wasn't ready to bring a baby into a situation that might not be such smooth sailing in a few months.

"We have to think about Grayson too though," I pointed out. "He's had a lot to deal with the last few months, a lot of big changes. Throwing a sibling at him on top of everything else might be a little bit cruel."

"That's true," Chris relented, looking a bit defeated for a moment until a smile slid onto his face. "He'll be such a good big brother though. He'll be so excited to teach him everything he knows."

"Him?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow. "We're going to have another boy, are we?"

"Him or her," Chris shrugged. "I'd be happy either way."

I couldn't help, but smile at his enthusiasm. It was a nice thought even if it was clearly a more distant fantasy for me than it was for Chris.

"One day," I assured him. "I love you, Chris."

"I love you too."

With a strength that never ceased to amaze me, he then stood from the couch, lifting me up with him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, giggling at the impressive feat as he carried me to our bedroom where we spent the rest of the night showing some physical appreciation and love for each other.

-

December

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99 @mjey12

[ashintheairlikesnow]

*busts in the door* ANTONI SUFFERING PROMPTS? may I offer any combo of 8: pour salt in my muse’s wound(s), 5: drug my muse, and/or 23: trip my muse for my favorite ashtray 😍

One Two Three Four Five

CW: Burns, salt in wound, cigarette smoking, internal and external dehumanization, pet whump, emeto mention

"Sssshhhh." His whimpers have gotten too loud again, and there's a hand in his hair, rough petting that feels more like another kind of violence, opening new wounds. It's Quiet One crouched in front of him, head tilted, eyes sparkling in the graying darkness as dawn comes closer and closer. "Hold still. There we go. Good boy."

A shiver of pleasure runs down his spine, the simple pure sense of doing what he is trained to do, made to do. Made for, what he wanted, to make up for whatever sins are buried deep inside his ruined memory.

"How do you know all this shit, anyway? Not just the movie. They didn't get into half this shit in the movie." Deep-Voice is back in the wrecked kitchen, going through cabinets with doors that hang off broken hinges.

The ashtray is in what was the living room, his hands tied behind him with his own t-shirt, ripped to long strips. He's sweating, even in the chilly empty room, sitting up but slumped over. They've tied one bit of his shirt around his neck with a little bow.

A droplet of sweat runs down his collarbone, dips over his chest, finds a new burn and the ashtray hisses, biting on his lower lip to kill the sound until he feels blood burst free of him again. How many times has he bitten his lip tonight?

Lookout sits over by the front door, miraculously still intact right down to its frosted glass panels. He keeps looking outside and then back, chain-smoking, one cigarette after another even after his face seems green around the edges. There are five from him, five new circles of pain for the ashtray to focus on.

Three with his eyes sparkling, two with a growing uncertainty. Then Lookout went and threw up outside in the bushes someone had once carefully landscaped along the front of the house. He had to be convinced to stop panicking over DNA, Quiet One had to lecture him on not listening to the fucking true crime podcasts any longer.

They're not gonna test your goddamn puke, asshole. Besides, does that look like somebody who's gonna call a fucking detective? Get back in here.

Now Lookout sits by the door, and the butts of the cigarettes he has already finished lay scattered around his shoes.

"My uncle," Quiet One says, using the ashtray's hair to lift his head again, looking over the glazed, empty obedience written alongside the suffering, worn openly on his face. "Works for WRU. They're not supposed to talk about it, sign like the world's most ironclad NDA, but he tells me stories sometimes."

"Ron?" That's Lookout, voice shaking. He looks like he wants to throw up again. The ashtray blinks at him, dazedly. How can he look sick when the ashtray is the one whose skin is burning for his crimes? "Ron works for-"

"Hey! What the fuck did I say about names?" Quiet One rolls his eyes. Deep Voice comes back in, shoes crunching on glass and rocks and bits of crumpled paper and everything else that's been dragged in here over time. He crouches next to Quiet One, holding out a thick cylindrical... something.

The ashtray's eyes can't focus enough to understand.

"Look what I found," Deep Voice says, softly.

Quiet One grins. "Oh, yeah. Do it, man."

Deep Voice flips open a little metal thing along the cylinder's lid, and the ashtray's eyebrows furrow, confused. His thoughts move slowly, fighting through deep water.

He realizes what it is just as Deep Voice tips the canister of salt and pours it over the new constellation they've made on his stomach, reaching out with his other hand to rub circles, pressing the grit deeply into the burns.

The ashtray's back arches, every muscle locked, choked sounds coming from a throat that won't open enough for a scream. Quiet One keeps a hand in his hair to hold him still, watching with bright avid eyes, glittering with fascination as he looks at the veins in the ashtray's neck standing out, the blood smeared along his chin from his lower lip.

"Jesus Christ," Quiet One says, softly. "You're fucking gorgeous, buddy, you know that?"

"What if he gets, like, infected from this?" Lookout asks, hands shaking so hard he drops the lighter when he tries to light up again. "And like. Dies?"

"What if he does?" Quiet One shrugs one shoulder. "Sucks to be him, then, I guess." His eyes move over the ashtray's face, watching with intensity as Deep Voice pours salt on another set of burns, listening to the ashtray's hitched sobs, watching the tears track through dirt down his cheeks. "Fuck, man. Those cheekbones. I can see why some old fucking perv wanted you."

It wasn't for his cheekbones. The ashtray would tell them if he could remember how to speak. It was for his crimes, it was because he had done something so terrible he would give anything to escape it. It was because he had to pay for what he'd done. It was because-

Abruptly, Quiet One lets go of his hair, letting his head fall back down, chin nearly to his chest. "Hey. Get over here with the lighter, man."

"Why?"

"I want to do one more. I'm tired, I want to go to bed. Come on."

The ashtray catches Lookout's soft oh thank god as he gets to his feet and shuffles over, dropping the pack of cigarettes and the lighter into Quiet One's waiting hands.

"What the fuck, dude?"

"What?"

"You smoked like the whole damn pack! This shit costs money, you fucking baby."

"Fuck off, I'll buy you more. Just. Finish it up, I want to go home, too." Lookout looks away, out the broken windows towards the street. "People're gonna be fucking waking up soon. Let's get out of here."

"Yeah, yeah. Asshole."

Quiet One turns back to him, using one finger to tip his chin up, almost gently. The ashtray looks back at him, blank but for the pain. It fills his body, the throb of each individual new mark joining the itching aches of the old. The oldest scars are so faint they hardly mar his skin, the newest are bright red burns, skin buckling and bubbling under heat it isn't made to withstand.

"Pozhaluysta," He whispers, lips barely moving. "Pozhaluysta, Mr. Davies, ostanovites'."

"Mmmn. That's Russian, isn't it? Sexy. One more, pet. Think you can handle one more burn for me? Take it quiet and we'll leave. Can you do that for me?"

The ashtray nods, frantically, in desperate need for it to end. He can go back to his room, with the bars on the windows, and sing himself to sleep. He can go back to his room.

"Good boy."

The ashtray stares at the little red circle of light as the cigarette is lit, the flickering flame. The click of the lighter as it shuts again, the smoke blown into his face. Familiar and wrong, this smoke is bitter and acrid and Mr. Davies always smelled sweet and almost herbal when he smoked, the deep clove smell in the ashtray's clothes, his hair, lingering on his skin.

They untie his hands from behind his back and the bow from his neck, Quiet One rubbing at the deep red marks left behind, thumb moving back and forth over the ashtray's Adam's apple, breathing softly. "Shit. God, I wish I had one of these for mine."

"Well, unless you discover a shitload of money, you'd just be stealing. Or... like, committing a bunch of fucking felonies."

"Yeah, yeah. If I clean up a bit I bet my uncle could get me in at WRU. I heard they have a handler there who fucking killed like four people before he got the job."

"Jesus Christ, dude, seriously?"

"Yeah. Peters or something. My uncle doesn't fuck with him. Nobody does. Said he's fucking gross but he gets Employee of the Month like all the time. I could be gross for money."

"Man, who wouldn't be gross for money."

"Ha, right? All right, let's finish this shit up." Quiet One sighs, looking back at the ashtray. "You were a good fucking time, man. Enjoyed the hell out of this. Here we go. Stay quiet for me now."

Quiet One presses the cigarette into the inside of the ashtray's wrist, right in the center of his barcode, the one place that Mr. Davies never touched.

The ashtray bites his lip until it bleeds, whining deep in his throat as new tears fall, but he doesn't scream. He's quiet.

He's good.

He can be good.

"There we go." A ruffle to his hair and Quiet One stands, Deep Voice following almost immediately. Quiet One relights his cigarette and walks to the door, where Lookout moves outside before them.

Quiet One is the last to leave, looking over his shoulder at the ashtray still sitting on the ground, slumped over, in the ruined house. He lifts up his cell phone, turns on flash, and takes a photo.

The ashtray flinches at a sudden blinding light he barely registers as what it is, and Quiet One and Deep Voice laugh.

Lookout is already out by the street, bouncing on his toes, looking back and forth like he expects sirens any second.

"Maybe we'll see you again sometime," Quiet One says, and then they leave, their voices and laughter fading along with the crunch of gravel under their shoes, until the only sound left is the ashtray's ragged, uneven breathing.

He doesn't know when he gets to his feet, or how. He pulls the sweatshirt back on and leaves the shreds of his t-shirt behind. The front door is open, and when he stumbles outside, the sky is pink along the edges of the horizon.

The ashtray moves down the sidewalk, and he doesn't know where he's going, or what he'll do when he gets there.

He ends up standing, swaying a little, next to a stop sign in a place that looks familiar but he doesn't know at all. The pre-dawn light has everything slightly eerie and unsettled in his mind, shapes crashing into each other, puzzle pieces that don't quite fit.

A hand touches his back and he spins around with a gasp, staring down in terror at a short elderly woman with dark brown skin and thick hair a blend of silvery white and black pulled no-nonsense at the nape of her neck.

She looks up at him, her own eyebrows knitted. "I said good morning. Did you hear-" She goes quiet, and her eyes move over his face with too much understanding.

She knows.

Everyone knows what he is. Everyone has always known. It was a mistake to believe he could be safe anywhere outside the four walls of Nat's home. It was a mistake to think he could build a life that might involve leaving here, living on his own.

Everyone will always know.

Antoni swallows, and shudders as it makes the fresh burn on his throat ache and throb in reminder. He struggles to move his mouth to speak. "M-... Miss Ruth. D-Dobroye utro."

He realizes only then that his sweatshirt is still unzipped, and she can see the line of scars, the new burns and old, and heat rushes to his cheeks underneath the dirt already caking them.

"Oh, honey. What happened to you?" Ruth's voice is low, and she looks to one side, and then the other. Then she sighs and steps back, gesturing. "Come on inside my house, sweetheart. Just me this week, no one else to bother us. Let me patch you up, your people are still sleeping no doubt."

His people.

He is safe with his people, inside the house. But he has never been safe when he leaves. It is too easy to read what he is in every inch of his skin.

"Spasibo," He whispers as he follows her up the steps.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Initiative pt 2 - ao3 or tumblr pt 1

It was just typical of his brother, Nie Huaisang thought. He finally, finally, finally found a girl that might suit him, agreed to marry her, and then he spent all his time worrying about…saber.

Typical.

Nie Huaisang volunteered himself to act as the family representative in negotiations with the Jiang sect, seeing as his brother would undoubtedly get them fleeced if he were trying to do it himself – “Try not to be too mercenary, Huaisang. We are the ones in the stronger position, through no fault of theirs.” –  and with one thing or another he arrived at the Lotus Pier less than a week after Jiang Yanli did.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian seemed rather surprised to see him.

“I haven’t had a moment to tell them,” Jiang Yanli said, pressing her head to her forehead and looking a little tired. “They’d just completed the memorial hall, when I arrived.”

“And it’s been nothing but keeping them from fighting ever since?” Nie Huaisang said, not without some sympathy.

Only some, though. If Jiang Yanli couldn’t handle Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, even the grieved and tragic versions of them, what was she going to do the first time his brother went into a rage?

Maybe he was being too cold-blooded. After all, they’d been her parents, too.

“Your arrival is a good thing,” she said, narrowing her eyes a little in satisfaction. “Now they have no excuse to run away from me.”

Nie Huaisang couldn’t help but smile a little at that.

She summoned a few sect disciples, divided them neatly into two groups – one larger than the other – and instructed them to go bring her two recalcitrant brothers to the main hall. “You may use force,” she informed the larger group. “I would advise you that A-Xian is especially weak to tickling around his ribs, and don’t let him scare you off with that Yiling Patriarch stuff. And as for the group going to get A-Cheng – may I suggest looking especially pathetic when you convey the message that his sister, who he left alone for almost the entire war, would really like to see him if he has a moment to spare for her?”

Nie Huaisang’s smile broadened. “Tears,” he added solemnly. “Tears are very good. He hates tears.”

“Just so. Thank you all.”

“My brother is already planning out your saber,” he told her once the disciples had left, and she brightened visibly. “If there’s anything you want to contribute in terms of design, now’s the time – I brought mine in case you want to have a look later on.”

Aituan was in his luggage. Somewhere. His brother had refused to let him leave the Unclean Realm before he’d produced proof of saber, and he hadn’t unpacked since then, so surely it was somewhere.

“I’m sure whatever your brother comes up with will be fine,” she said. “I don’t know anything about weapons.”

A brief hesitation.

“Although, perhaps not – so large…?”

Nie Huaisang decided to be daring. He opened his fan in front of his face and looked at her over it, allowing his eyes to curve up in a smile. “Don’t worry about that – though if all goes well, you’re going to have to accustom yourself to dealing with a large saber at some point in the process.”

She burst out laughing, which was good.

“Nie Huaisang!” Oh, look, Jiang Cheng was here. “What are you saying to my sister? You’d better not be harassing her!”

“What would you do if I was?” Nie Huaisang wondered. “I mean, I’m not, I don’t think, but –”

“Just don’t.”

“A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli said. “Be polite. Where’s A-Xian? I have something to tell you both.”

Wei Wuxian came in a few moments later, grumbling and rubbing his ribs but brightening when he saw them all gathered up there, and he slid into place by Jiang Cheng’s side easy as anything even if they did sort of stare awkwardly with quasi-glares, quasi-grimaces at each other first.

And then Jiang Yanli told them why Nie Huaisang was there, and all awkwardness fell away at once so that they could unite in glaring at Nie Huaisang.

“Why are you looking at me for?” he asked. “I’m not the one marrying her, that’s my brother.”

“If you had anything to do with this –” Wei Wuxian started, doing his whole looming-with-the-subtonal-wailing-of-dark-forces Yiling Patriarch thing, but ticklish around the ribs and a summer of nonsense didn’t really do much to encourage fear in Nie Huaisang, who’d never had as much common sense as a regular person ought.

“Oh, no, I objected to it,” Nie Huaisang said breezily. “Your sister doesn’t deserve my brother.”

And that, of course, got them both up in arms even more.

“What’s that supposed to mean? What’s wrong with my sister?” Jiang Cheng shouted, and Wei Wuxian’s aura-of-darkness got even more out of hand as he crossed his arms and glared death. “She’d be a great bride for anyone! Give me one reason –”

“I’m glad to have your support, didi,” Jiang Yanli said, calmly ladling out the soup she’d promised Nie Huaisang as if they were sitting in the midst of a nice breeze instead of a hurricane, and okay, fine, maybe his brother had a point about the importance of things like backbone and patience. “Don’t worry so much. If Nie-er-gongzi is here as his brother’s representative, that must mean he’s accepted the match.”

Or that he was here to sabotage it, but he appreciated her good faith interpretation.

“Please, just Huaisang is fine,” he said, smiling at her. “You’ll be my sister-in-law soon enough, won’t you?”

“We haven’t agreed yet!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed.

“Oh, like your opinion matters,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes. “You know how many people have put good money down on you leaving the Jiang sect in the next three-to-six months?”

That got all of them looking like they’d just been unexpectedly stabbed in the chest, Jiang Yanli included.

“What?” he asked, batting his eyelashes innocently at them. “Did I say something wrong? Everyone knows you aren’t doing anything for the Jiang sect anymore, Wei-xiong. All the rumors says so, and the only reason for that is if you were planning on ditching now that you don’t need them anymore.”

“That’s enough,” Jiang Yanli said, and there was a bit of steel in her voice. “A-Xian isn’t leaving, and even if he was, his opinion on my marriage would still matter to me.”

“That’s one of the reasons I objected,” Nie Huaisang said to her, deciding that she was clearly the only one mature enough to have this extremely necessary discussion with. “Meaning no offense, but in every possible respect, you’re a bad match. If you marry my brother, will you be expecting him to run around defending everything the Yiling Patriarch does whenever he’s in the mood to thumb his nose at the cultivation world? Or paying for the Lotus Pier’s reconstruction costs, even though Jiang-xiong hasn’t made a single overture to our Nie sect in terms of reestablishing trade routes or even just swapping craftsmen for mutual benefit?”

Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were positively black in the face.

“Of course, even if you weren’t going to anchor him down with even more political obligations, there’s your personal value,” Nie Huaisang continued, tapping his finger against his cheek. “Word has it that you’re weak and sickly. Who’s to say that you won’t die along with the first child you bear –”

“How dare you talk about my shijie like that!” Wei Wuxian shouted, slamming his hand down on the table, while Jiang Cheng’s Zidian crackled lightning like an overactive firework. “How dare you –”

“And do you still support the marriage, even with all of these disadvantages?” Jiang Yanli asked, holding up her hands to hold her brothers back. Her eyes were a bit wet, but she was otherwise unperturbed, at least on the surface.

“I do, actually,” Nie Huaisang said, pleased. Even if she went to go cry later, which he didn’t think she would, she’d done well enough to pass his personal test of what constituted backbone. “My brother doesn’t care about politics, we have plenty of money, and there’s doctors for the rest of it. If you’re really willing to put in the effort, I’d be happy to call you my sister-in-law.”

Jiang Cheng was hissing like a pot of water on the boil. Wei Wuxian was grinding his teeth.

“I appreciate that,” Jiang Yanli said, disregarding them entirely. “I can promise you that I’ll do my best.”

“Good, good,” Nie Huaisang said, and grinned at her. “There’s only enough room for one useless flower vase in the Nie household, and the position is taken. By me, if that’s not clear. I brought my brother’s eight characters – do you have yours at hand? We can calculate the auspicious date immediately.”

“I still haven’t agreed!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, and Jiang Yanli reached out to touch his arm lightly. “I haven’t! Jiejie, you don’t have to marry anyone you don’t want to, no matter what good things you think it’d bring to the sect, okay? You should marry for love!”

“Jiang Cheng’s right, shijie,” Wei Wuxian said at once. “You should get anyone you like. Even if you still want that stupid Jin sect peacock, we’d find a way to get him for you.”

Nie Huaisang looked at Jiang Yanli carefully at that one. It was even odds if his brother minded her having some vestigial affections, especially in the beginning, but he himself wouldn’t be having any of that – least of all with a Jin, no matter how much better Jin Zixuan seemed to be than his father.

His brother deserved someone who would put him first, this time.

“No, thank you,” she said without the slightest hesitation, and Nie Huaisang nodded in approval. “Young Master Jin has made his opinion about me clear enough, and not just once. I’m not going to run after him like I think that’s all I’m good for. And anyway, Chifeng-zun is a good man, who you both greatly admire – why can’t I marry him?”

“You can marry anyone you want,” Jiang Cheng said at once.

“And I want to marry him,” she said, and smiled. “At first, yes, it was primarily because he seemed to offer the most advantages for our sect, but…I don’t know. He’s very nice.”

Nie Huaisang mouthed the word ‘nice’ to himself, rolling it around in his mouth like a fine wine. It might be the first time anyone had ever described his brother that way.

“I think I would be happy being married to him,” she concluded. “Even very happy. Will you approve?”

They folded like a stack of cards.

“Oh, I like you,” Nie Huaisang told her, finally but now wholly delighted. “It’ll be good for my brother.”

And it’ll be interesting to see how the Jin sect takes it, he thought with a smirk half-hidden behind his fan. Since you bring the power and influence of whole Jiang sect with you, and the Yiling Patriarch too.

He wouldn’t mention that, of course.

Only an idiot would negotiate against themselves.

[blueluneacy]

Worthy of Being His

whoaaa lune is multi fandom now! That’s right folks, @yanderebloodlust got me into Twisted Wonderland, and now I’m in too deep. This is also a thank you for a gift they gave me, haha.

It’s Yandere! Vil Schoenheit/Reader! I had a lot of fun with this one, but BOY, did I go overboard

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: yandere, emotional abusive behavior, stalking, kidnapping, probably inappropriate uses of curses

Also, Read on AO3!

It started with lip balm. He had noticed how it was left on the table, picking it up after he had gotten up to get himself some water. Vil wasn’t the type to be eating after a certain time of night, but sometimes even he too woke up with a dry throat. It probably wasn’t something he should’ve noticed, it sort of just… Stood out. It wasn’t his brand, so what was it doing here? He had already given everyone what they were supposed to use. 

Of course, his answer would come soon enough, as you bounded down the stairs, looking around wildly, only to brighten up when you saw your precious lip balm in Vil’s hands, jogging on over to him.

“Ah, thank god you found it! I was tearing apart my room for it. Can I have it back?” You asked, looking up at him. He was shorter than he usually was, those thirteen centimeter heels really giving him a boost, but he was still a lot larger than you would’ve expected. Aren’t pretty boys supposed to be on the shorter side?

“Lip balm? Shouldn’t you be asleep, why are you worrying about this?” Vil’s voice was so sharp, to the point where you wanted to cower. You swallowed, looking away and letting out a nervous laugh. His presence was always so imposing, commanding respect that you wanted nothing more but to run away. 

“Ah, well, I was reading over some of my notes for magical history, so I stayed up. When I was finally getting ready for bed, I realized my lip balm wasn’t anywhere to be found. I put it on every night before bed. I had to clear out all the stuff I usually just keep in the bathroom since you all are here, so I just misplaced it..” You told him, finding yourself unable to meet Vil’s eyes, instead just looking at the ground. Why was this feeling more like an interrogation than a normal conversation? Vil just paused, looking over the container, reading it. It was just some cheap, drugstore lip balm. Nothing like his products, but it was something. He never expected that out of all the people here, you would be the only one who at least paid SOME attention to that sort of thing.

“Why use this? If you need something, you could’ve just asked. I can get you some of my lip cream, I have more than enough. This must have only cost two hundred madol, and probably only works that well.” He replied. You laughed a bit, shaking your head.

“It was one hundred fifty, actually. But I can’t accept it. That lip balm is important to me.” You said. Vil raised an eyebrow, as if shocked you would dare to tell him no, before you quickly tried to explain yourself. “I-It’s not like I’m rejecting your kindness, I just… I earned that. I bought it with some money I earned after helping out at Monstro Lounge.” You told him. Vil scoffed at that, crossing his arms.

“You actually work at that place? I thought you would be a classier person than that.” He scolded. You held back a small sound of fear that you wanted to let out. 

“I mean, I’m not a regular employee or anything! They were just busy, and I uh… Well, money is money. The Headmaster gets me what I need, but I really don’t need much. I have clothes and shoes and notebooks, but that lip balm… That’s something that’s entirely mine, not just a uniform and notes everyone else takes. Does that make any sense?” You told him. Vil paused for a moment, before dropping your lip balm into your hands.

“No.” He said flatly, before walking off. Suddenly he wasn’t so thirsty. “Get to bed. We have practice early tomorrow, and I’m not going to tolerate it if you don’t get up in time.” He told you as he started to climb up the stairs. You looked down at your precious thing, holding it to your chest. Thank goodness, Vil had given it back. You watched as he walked up the stairs, going off to his room. Why was he like that?

The second incident was after the VDC, while you were walking to class after breakfast. Epel had joined you along with everyone that morning, since class 1-A and 1-B were having a joint session for alchemy. 

“By the way, Prefect. You need to stop picking at your face, it’s going to burst open and then scar.” Epel told you, leaving you to immediately put your hand down. You couldn’t help it. Every time you spoke, you felt the pimple that had developed right under your lip. 

“You should just pop it. It’ll get it all over with, and then you can wash it out.” Ace told you, leaving Deuce to shake his head.

“You learned nothing about your skincare training camp, did you?” He scolded Ace, leaving Ace to shrug.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad, can it? There’s whole Magicam accounts about pimple popping, you just need the right technique.” He said, before looking down at you with a mischievous grin. “Come on, Grim, hold them still. I’ll pop it right now.” He said, only for Epel to laugh as you stepped back, giggling all the while.

“I’m not letting you anywhere near my face! You probably didn’t even wash your hands!” You said, laughing as you started to jokingly run away from them, both Ace and Grim chasing after you.

“Come on, it’ll be easy! Like bursting a bubble!” Ace teased.

“You say that only after watching videos of it on Magicam! Epel would definitely be the expert, not you!” Grim told Ace, leaving you to laugh, you didn’t even notice he was there until you ran right into his chest.

“My my. Is this anyway to act in front of your Upperclassmen?” You looked up, only to see you had bumped right into Vil. You gasped, backing up a bit, but before you could get back to your respective personal space, Vil grabbed you by the chin, looking over the blemish on your face.

“Well, the Prefect’s dead.” You heard Ace behind you, and you just felt yourself go pale, averting your eyes. You never felt like you could meet his eyes.

“I… I’m sorry, Vil, we were just fooling around, I didn’t see you there…” You told him. Something about the way you spoke made Vil’s heart speed up, but he ignored it for now.

“It’s inflamed because you won’t leave it alone. What kind of cleanser do you use that allowed this to happen?” You said, before getting even more nervous.

“Uh… Just soap. But I try not to touch my face, so it uh, evens out, right?” You said, before Vil gave you what was possibly the most disgusted face you had ever seen. 

“Is this… The example that you are giving? After all I’ve taught all of you, this is what you’re doing.” Vil said, letting you go.

“Hey, it’s not their fault! The Headmaster only gives them the bare minimum! Half the time, they’re taking in laundry just to buy new pens!” Grim complained. Vil raised an eyebrow, looked down at you, but you refused to meet anyone’s eyes.

“I… I have everything I need. I’m grateful for everything that I have now.” You said, turning away. You hated thinking about that, hated talking about that. It didn’t matter. You didn’t need anything here. You could survive off the bare minimum, bide your time until the Headmaster finally found you a way home. So, why did you feel your eyes watering? Vil just looked down at you, still holding onto you, until you finally pulled away when the bell rang.

“I’m going to be late. Excuse me.” You said, running off. Vil saw that Ace the others quickly came beside you, trying to comfort you, but you just shook them off, You didn’t need their comfort. And Vil watched you, remembering how he saw your eyes water. It shouldn’t bother him. He was used to making underclassmen cry at this point. But for some reason, he felt… Bad.

Later that day, you let yourself cry. You could long for home when you were alone. When you heard the doorbell ring, you almost wanted to just let them sit there, but you just wiped your eyes and went to the door. But when you opened it, no one was there, only a box with your name on it. You looked around, but you didn’t see anyone. When you opened it, you gasped, blinking a bit as you opened it up, only to find fancy skincare products in it. You gasped, looking around to try and find who gave it to you, mostly so you could give it back, but no one was there. Well… It would be a waste not to use it, right? You brought it inside, and let yourself enjoy the small luxury. The next day, Epel even commented on it.

“It does look a lot better than before. Just make sure it doesn’t get infected.” He told you. You just smiled.

“It’s all thanks to you. Please, you have to let me repay you somehow.” You told him, but he just raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” He asked. You just laughed.

“You don’t need to play coy with me. I know you’re the one who left that box outside of my dorm. None of those idiots would ever actually remember what it is to treat this sort of thing.” You told him, but Epel just stared at you, bewildered.

“I didn’t leave any box for you, I promise.” He told you. You blinked, opening your mouth to respond, only to hear Epel get called out to by Rook.

“Ah, sorry, I have to go. I hope everything works out with you and your face.” He told you, grabbing his books and running off. You watched him leave, sitting and thinking to yourself. If it wasn’t Epel, then who could’ve…

You didn’t ever notice Vil around the corner, watching you, trying to force his heart to calm. He was disgusted, this was something he expected someone like Rook to be doing, and here he was. You were ugly, a potato, not worthy to even be looked at by him. And yet, he couldn’t look away.

The third incident left you laying your head over the textbooks as Deuce looked over your test.

“Wow. You did even worse than me. I didn’t think that was possible.” He said, leaving you to sigh. 

“I know, I know. You don’t have to state the obvious. I really need to study this, or else…” You went pale, pulling yourself and staring down at your textbook.

“I’m surprised. Usually you do really well in school. Did something happen?” He asked. You sighed. You couldn’t just… Say what you felt, because it was stupid. You couldn’t just say that you felt like you were suddenly being watched by someone without proof you were actually being watched. It was stupid. You were stupid.

“I guess my mind was in other places. Don’t worry, I’ll just study hard, and then ace the makeup. I got this, really.” You told him. Deuce just sighed, giving you a worried look.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to sit and study with you?” He asked, but you just smiled, shaking your head.

“It’s not fair of me to keep you. I don’t mind if you go on, really. Besides, you only scored a few points higher than I did. Let’s face it, you probably are as clueless as I am right now.” You said, only for Deuce to wince.

“You’re blunt to the point of being unkind. Alright, but… Just text one of us if you need anything, alright?” He told you. You just smiled and nodded, watching as he walked off, before burying yourself back in your readings. 

Maybe you should’ve accepted his help. Two hours in, and you felt like you had gotten nowhere, sitting and looking over the same words over and over again. God, what now? Maybe you could beg Deuce to try and make a joint study session with the two of you and Riddle? He always knew what he was doing in Alchemy. Ah, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to subject yourself to that sort of… Study techniques. You were so lost in thought on what to do, that you didn’t notice as he came up to your table?

“Not running through the walls today?” You looked up and saw Vil glaring down at you, immediately looking away. Maybe it was for the best that you didn’t look at Vil, for that way you didn’t notice the dark, strange look in his eyes.

“Ah, no. I’m in the middle of studying. I have a makeup test tomorrow.” You told him. Vil actually scoffed at that.

“A makeup test? You’re the Prefect for your dorm, you shouldn’t be having to take things like that. It’s shameful.” He scolded. You just let your nails dig into your palms. God, why was he always so mean to you? You tried to let it roll off your back, but with how stressed you were about this exam, it really wasn’t working.

“Well, it can’t be helped. I can’t do anything about it now, so I just need to study hard and do well tomorrow.” You said, looking down at your textbook, just staring at the pictures in hopes that it would drill something into your brain. Vil looked over your papers, before sitting down, grabbing one of your notebooks and looking it over. You gasped as you looked at him, how his eyes pored over your notes, before he sighed.

“Your first problem is that you take bad notes. You try to write down everything the book says, instead of figuring out what the meat of work is and going from there.” He told you, before grabbing your textbook right from under you. “Chapter 12, huh? Luckily for you, I got a perfect score on that test. As long as you promise to put in the effort, I can help you. But I’m not going to go easy on you either.” He told you. You blinked as you looked at him. Vil. Cruel, awful Vil, was going to help you. You couldn’t help but ask.

“W… Why are you-” But before you could finish your question, he answered it for you.

“Don’t think I’m doing this for you. Next year, if more students get sorted into Ramshackle Dorm, then you’ll officially be a dorm head. That means, your actions and behavior now reflect your dorm, and thus, the school as a whole. I won’t let your lack of effort be something that brings our school’s reputation down.” He was oh so good at lying too. He was so good at pretending that this wasn’t just an attempt to spend some time with you, that he wanted nothing more to bask in your presence. Why? Compared to him, you were nothing. Nothing but one of the hundreds of faces that he had seen. But ever since that night at the dorm, you wouldn’t leave his mind. This was all just something of a phase. Once he spent some time with you, it would wear off. But the way you looked at him, before smiling, was well…

“Well then, I’ll be in your care, Vil. I promise to do my best!” It was just too damn cute! He barely was able to keep his blush down at your words, before looking over the textbook and getting a vague outline of what it was he needed to go over with you.

And god, you were just so attentive to him when he spoke. You wrote down what he said, despite him already scolding you to paraphrase, but you asked earnest questions, and you did your best to try and understand. By the end of the evening, you were able to recite the contents of any potion he threw at you, leaving him to smile. Perhaps… Well, if you were able to put in the effort like this, then you too could be polished into something marvelous.

“Gosh, thank you Vil, really. This is the first time I’ve felt completely prepared for a test in a while. You really are a great teacher.” You told him, and he couldn’t help but bask in your praise. Why? He got praise from people like you all the time. So why did yours affect him so much?

“Well, we’ll see. Do tell me how you do on the exam tomorrow.” He said, standing up as he looked at the clock. “It’s late. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” Vil told you, but you just shook your head, gasping as you saw the clock.

“God, Grim is probably worried sick! And the cafeteria is closed by now…” You sighed, before looking over at Vil as you packed up your things. “Don’t worry, I’ve kept you late as it is, with all my silly questions. When I get my test results, you’ll be the first person I go to! Is there anything I can do to repay you?” Maybe… He wasn’t as bad as you thought. Sure, his personality was poisonous, but he had a good heart underneath it all. 

“Hmm… I’ll think about it. But yes, show me the results. We’ll see if you actually paid attention.” Vil said, smiling as you waved goodbye, running off back to your dorm. He held a hand to his chest, noticing that after everything, his heart did not slow. So this… This was the true thing. It was said that the curse of the princess in legends was broken by true love’s kiss. Was it possible that love could’ve…

“You’ll be mine. You’re the one who cursed me with this, you’ll have to take responsibility.”

The fourth incident was a week after the exam, when you got your results back. You grinned as you looked it over.

“Perfect marks. It seems even bad puppies can become obedient. You did a very good job, Prefect. You should be proud.” You smiled at Crewel’s words. When he had called you after class to “talk” about your makeup exam results, you expected the worst, not praise. But you weren’t going to throw it away.

“It’s all because I had an amazing teacher.” You told him, letting him preen under the misunderstanding. If he wanted to believe you meant him and not Vil, that was fine.

“Oh, you do know just what to say. Go on now, you’re released. I expect to see this level of achievement from now on.” He told you, leaving you to run off. You had to find Vil, you had to tell him just what you got. You even zipped past Ace and Grim, telling them that you would talk to them later. You just ran to the Pomefiore dorm, zipping past other students, before finally getting there. You saw Rook, taking a deep breath, before jogging over to him. 

“Ah, La petite souris has come to visit us. What is it that you need today?” He asked, only to leave you to smile.

“Um, is Vil here? I have something I need to tell him about. It’s good news, don’t worry!” You smiled. Rook just gasped.

“Oh? Could it be about your makeup exam? How did you do?” He asked, leaning to look over at your paper. “Ah, toutes nos félicitations! He’ll be very proud of you.” Rook got up, but you just tilted your head to the side, blinking.

“How did you…” It seemed everyone was answering your questions before you could finish them.

“Vil told me about it. I like to know why my dorm head breaks his own self mandated curfews, after all.” He chuckled, before pointing you down the hall. “He should be in his room. You’ll know the door when you see it, trust me.” Rook smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back. Something about his positivity was infectious. 

“Ah, thank you! I’ll be seeing you!” You told him, running off down the hall as Rook watched, smiling to himself.

“Alors la souris va à la rencontre du chat.” 

You really could tell when it was Vil’s door. It was decorated to really suit him. Normally, you would be scared to just knock on his door willy nilly, but this was a special occasion. So you knocked proudly, standing and waiting.

“God, what is it that you need that you couldn’t text me Roo-” Vil said, before his eyes landed on you. He stared down at you, wide eyed, before taking a deep breath, looking down at his phone to check himself over. Good, he was fine. “It’s… it’s just you. What is it?” He asked, only for you to grin and hold up your test.

“Look! I told you that you would be the first person I would come to, right?” You said, grinning as Vil looked over your test. Hmm.. You actually did very well. He smiled, before making a decision. Then, it was finally time. It was earlier than he planned, but you came to him. No one could fault him for that. “Well then, come in.” He told you, walking inside and expecting you to follow. His dorm was actually nice, well kept. You noticed some textbooks out, leaving you to gasp as you shut the door behind the two of you.

“Oh, did I disturb your studying? I’m sorry, I can go if you’d like.” You said, but he just motioned for you to sit, opening up a cabinet. 

“You’re lucky. I just brought a pot of tea in here for my studying. It’s lemongrass, perfect for studying while keeping in good form.” He told you. You just smiled as you watched him pour the tea, but you were still quite concerned with looking over the room, admiring his silken sheets or beautiful curtains. Maybe if you had paid attention, you would’ve noticed him whispering out a spell, before handing you the teacup. You took a sip, before your eyes widened at Vil.

“Wow… This is really good! You’ll have to give me your source on the tea leaves, I’m so jealous.” You told him.

“Do you drink a lot of tea?” He asked. He was realizing that he really didn’t know a lot about you. He had been able to weasel information out of Epel after his obsession started, how you were from another world, unable to use or detect magic, but you were hardworking and occasionally weak willed to other people’s whims. You really were perfect.

“I used to be indifferent, but ever since I came here, I’ve ended up drinking a lot of it. I guess since a lot of my friends are in Heartslabyul, I just got accustomed to it. Riddle doesn’t let you off the hook if you aren’t a dorm member, haha.” You told him, taking another sip, unnoticing about how Vil clenched his fist. That was another emotion that you caused. Whenever he saw you with another student, even one of his own dorm members, there was something… Ugly that fluttered. Something that hated how you spoke to kindly to them, how you spent your precious time with them. Your time should only belong to him-

“I see. Well, certain teas supposedly can help you become more beautiful, according to some. I don’t believe in any of those diet teas though. There’s no shortcut to beauty, only hard work and perseverance.” He said, taking a sip of his own tea. 

“Aha, yeah. That’s Vil for you. No one can ever say you don’t work hard.” You said. This was his chance. He smiled as you, placing his cup down and looking at you. There was a warmth in his eyes, making you feel at ease.

“You know, if you were to work, you could be beautiful too. I’ve already seen such record improvement after you started using my gift.” He told you. You gasped, looking at him wildly.

“Ah, so you were the one that left me those creams?! You didn’t have to do that, please, I’ll pay you back for them-” You started, but Vil held up a finger, silencing you.

“You should let your upperclassman finish speaking before you reply. That’s a habit we’ll have to work on.” He told you. You paused, before nodding. You wanted to appease your upperclassman, just like you did with any other upperclassman and your teachers. You really were such a good Prefect.

“But there’s still work to be done. Even now, I can see breakage in your hair, chewing on your nails, wrinkles in your uniform, and so on.” Vil told you, you felt shame rise to your face, looking down into the tea, seeing your reflection. Did you… Really look that bad? “That doesn’t mean there isn’t hope, however. I can start the paperwork so you’ll be an official member within a week. Sure, you’ll start at the bottom rung, but you’re a first year. It’s not like you won’t move up, and I promise you’ll be a lot happier here than in that poor, Ramshackle dorm. The room right next to me is open, so I’ll be able to keep a nice eye on you.” He told you. Your eyes widened as you stared at him, trying to process what he had said. You… A member of Pomefiore? It was something you couldn’t even imagine, but still… The idea of being in a dorm, a regular dorm member like everyone else was nice. You could have built in friends, a group of people you could rely on, and Vil would help you. No more ghosts, or having to constantly try and work to keep back cobwebs. You could be a respectable student, rather than someone everyone gawked at.

“I won’t put you through any special rituals, you’ve already proven you’re more than worthy to be here. So, what do you say, Prefect?” Vil said. He could see the want in your eyes. It was a good idea for him to start earlier, to give into his instinct to have you sooner rather than later. With this, he could finally give into the beating of his beautiful heart.

“... I’m sorry, but I can’t.” Then why did you say that? He stared at you as you looked down at your tea, smiling softly to yourself. He loved that smile, but why were you smiling now?! “Even if it sounds nice, I can’t give up my duties at Ramshackle Dorm. What would Grim do without me? And besides… I’m going to leave this world one day. It would be terrible to have to disappear on you all.” You told him. Vil just sat there, staring at you dumbfounded. He wasn’t used to people telling him no, that was for sure. And it made him mad, but he couldn’t just go off and say it. Instead, he laughed. It was a hearty, jovial sound, something that made you nervous.

“You really are a great Prefect, aren’t you? I’m surprised more people haven’t made this offer to you. But then again, you would’ve rejected all of them too.” Vil chuckled. His word put you at ease, making you sigh as you set your teacup down.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you. I’ll let you get back to your studies.” You told him as you stood up, collecting your things and moving onto the door. Vil still chuckled to himself, but you just ignored it, until you stepped to the door. You just… stood there. You didn’t know why you stood there, but before the door, you couldn’t move a muscle. You couldn’t reach out to the doorknob, with Vil’s laughter only becoming louder in your ears.

“W… What did you do?” You asked, turning back to Vil, staring at him as he gave you a wild look, in a way that you could only describe as deranged.

“Anyone who drinks this tea will be unable to leave this room without the permission of Vil Schoenheit. It’s a simple curse, but quite effective.” He told you. Your blood went cold as you tried to step back, trying to reach out beyond all hope to the doorknob, hoping beyond all hope that this was nothing but a sick prank, that he was just messing with you. And yet, Vil let himself drape his arms over you, pulling you close to him as he touched you, finally able to touch you without any regrets. You were warm, as warm as you were when you bumped into him that day. He reached and touched a piece of your hair, relishing in this without any regrets.

“It’s fine if you don’t accept it now. I’ll simply keep you here until you do.” Vil purred, leaving you to struggle against his hold, looking for some sort of escape from the beautiful room that was quickly becoming a personal hell.

“You can’t do this. You have to let me go, people will be looking for me.” You begged, but Vil just shook his head.

“Idia only shows up to class via a phone half the time, and Malleus is a famous no show. It’s practically tradition among dorm heads not to show up. It’ll be awhile before people really look.” He told you, rubbing small, soothing circles along your back. “I’ve already prepared a schedule for us, so you’ll begin your training as soon as I finish setting up my curses on you.” Vil told you. You gave him a look of despair, but even that, in a way, was beautiful, wasn’t it? Your lips, that you had taken so well care of with that lip balm you loved you so much, were prime to be made his, and he would let himself relish in it, pressing his against yours and he pushed you ahead the door, pressing his body against you in a fervour. Vil couldn’t help but drown in you, and you had no choice but to accept it, whether you liked it or not. When he pulled away and looked into your fear ridden eyes, he just smiled.

“I’ll turn you into a person worthy of being mine.”

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part III

Word Count: 1,810 Warnings: Mentions of drug use. PTSD. Guns. Ben Affleck. As always, if I missed anything, please send me a message and I'll amend this warning ASAP. A/N: As you can tell, I'm a slut for dialogue.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

gif by: @santigogarcia.

“Francisco,” she’s swaying back and forth with a sleeping Luna in her arms and he can hear the pleading in her voice, “please don’t do this.”

He waited until the absolute last second to tell her but she knew as soon as she got his text—

Pope’s here. I’m gonna bring him by tomorrow to meet Luna, okay?

“Baby,” he catches her hip and pulls her into him, “it’s just a couple of days, consulting work. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“No,” she’s shaking her head, tears threatening to spill over, “you promised me. You looked me in the eye and you said, Leah, I’m done with this shit. Why are you going?”

He licks his lips and looks to Santi in the hallway, pretending to be lost in his phone. He knows he’s not.

“I’ll call you when we get to Colombia. I’ll call you every night and again when I’m on the plane home. Te prometo, ay?”

“Stop making promises,” she pulls away from him, hand on his chest to steady her shaking body, “we’ve established you don’t keep them.”

His hands find her shoulders and squeeze, “Baby, it’s almost twenty grand. We can pay off the car or,” he stammers, “your student loans. We can breathe.”

Frankie sees the words trying to formulate in front of him, the cogs of her mind turning behind her eyes. He’s bracing himself for what’s next but all she does is pull away, the only acknowledgement of the fact that she can’t stop him.

She turns on her heel and he watches her walk out the room, stopping as Santi picks up where Frankie left off.

“Stop being so harsh on him, he needs this. Your family needs this.”

Frankie takes in a breath as Leah’s free hand collides with Santi’s cheek and before he can even react, she’s rounding on him again.

“Don't you dare tell me what my family needs, Santiago Garcia. I love you because he loves you but you are nothing but trouble.”

She can feel Frankie coming up behind her, shifting the air again because he’s nothing but nerves but Santi’s too hot to notice.

“He'll be fine, Leah, you worry too goddamn much,” he wants to shout, that’s evident in his demeanor. "He’s a big boy, if he didn’t want to go, he’d tell me.”

“Baby,” Frankie’s hand wraps around her elbow, trying to gently coax her into his arms. He wants to lead her back to the bedroom. Hold her. Convince her.

“No,” she pulls away, eyes still hard on Pope, “the best case scenario is that he comes home alive, Santiago. But he’s not fine. And who’s here picking up the pieces? It’s not you.”

“Leah, I swear. It's just a consultation,” his jaw sets with the lie he fed the rest of them, like his body is finally rebelling to the bullshit but he continues on, “your husband will come home.”

Frankie’s still got one hand wrapped around her elbow, another on her back. Her anger is a hurricane, he can feel it churning deep inside as her voice comes out lower, “He better or—“

“Or what?” Santiago's face splits into a shit eating grin, “you'll try to kill me again? How is your sister by the way?”

“I won’t kill you, Santi, but I will put a bullet through the bad knee and I’ll make sure William gets me the good shit. The kind that shreds through tendon and bone like a blender.”

Nodding, Santi sucks the air through his teeth, “You can try but I honestly think you’re too chicken shi—“

“¡Basta!” Enough!

Frankie’s pulling on Leah again, the hand that was resting on the small of her back making its way to Luna now. Luna, who up until her father’s raised voice—the voice he never wanted her to know—was sleeping perfectly against her mother. Completely, blissfully unaware of the firefight happening around her.

“Pope,” his voice is shaking, “you need to go.”

“Fine,” he pulls his phone back up to his face. “I’ll pick you up for the airport tomorrow.”

“No,” he feels the hope emanating from Leah as he watches Santi’s face fall, “if I come, I’ll meet you there but this isn’t a conversation you’re involved in anymore.”

“Wha—what the fuck does that mean? I started the conversation.”

Leah pads back into the bedroom, heart aching, with Luna in her arms. Frankie watches as she closes the door and rounds on Santiago, slamming his back into the wall behind him with enough force to shake the house and when he speaks again, it’s measured and even. This is the calmest he has been in weeks.

It’s not a threat.

“If you ever speak to my wife like that again, she’s not the one you have to worry about putting a bullet into your body.”

It’s a promise. —————

Fish is most talented pilot I know—

He swings his assault rifle back, opting for the Glock 19 at his side, Santi’s words ringing through his ears.

—and he’s grounded on a bullshit coke rap.

His boots fall heavy through the mansion, he doesn’t give a shit about stealth. Threw every care in the world out the door the moment Tom started digging for more. What they had was more than enough but he could never just have enough. Had to push for more. Every fucking time.

Another lap. Another sweep. Another round.

But he never missed a hard out, Benny was right about that.

Bullshit coke rap. Every misstep Frankie made, every struggle he faced, was just a bullshit mark on a hardened warrior. That’s all they ever saw him as, Tom and Santi. All remorse drained from his soul in the name of God and country.

Frankie squeezes the trigger, eyes lighting up in the muzzle flash. If he was going to take their lives, he was going to see it drain from their faces.

If he was inflicting this horror on his mind again, making Leah puzzle his shit back together again, he was going to earn it.

The gun hangs heavy in his hand as he steps over the bound and gagged body, following the sound of the rain.

"Fish, where are you?” Tom’s voice scratches at the edge of his skull. His nickname is a stark reminder that there is a separation between man and monster and he can find it again.

He’s shaking as he reaches for the button on his collar, “I'm exiting back out to the courtyard.”

She was right, telling him to stop making promises. He said no live fire and he couldn’t even keep that to himself. —————

“Is he right?” She’s quiet as Frankie lifts their daughter from her aching arms, “Is this what you need?”

“Yeah,” it comes out quiet, leveling up to the bouncing he’s now taken over to keep the baby asleep, “I think it is.”

“Why?” It’s not accusatory, she genuinely wants to know.

“I—“ he stops to think, he doesn’t want his words to come out selfish but he knows that’s how they’ll land. “Baby, I know I brought all of this down on myself and I know that I’ve survived it once before but…”

He trails off, his large hand is splayed across Luna’s back to support her as he resettles her in his arms. A small sound of contentedness escapes her and he can’t believe he’s missed this for the last six weeks. Spent months on end higher than any fucking plane he flew just because he was afraid of failing her. He chokes on the lump building in his throat because he already has.

“But what, baby?”

“I fucked up,” he takes a deep breath to steady himself, “this has been the hardest year of my life, the last six weeks especially.”

Bad landing.

She takes a breath, a tiny spark in her eyes but he’s already in front of her, “Mi alma, let me finish. Please.”

She nods, agreeing to his appeal.

"Before, the only thing I had to lose was my license. Now, the license was just the tip of the pyramid. This shit could’ve cost me my life. In more ways than one. I know what they cut the drugs with now and my nightmares are no longer about what I did in the service, Leah. Will and Benny hold me down screaming in the middle of the night as I imagine I’ve left this shit out for you or Luna to find.”

He laughs at the love and concern in her eyes, not feeling he deserves it but he forges on anyway, “I snorted our finances into desolation. We can’t live on a teacher’s salary alone, baby, you know that. How far behind is the car payment?”

“Just a month now,” she whispers, “my sisters helped us catch up.”

“And you hate that! You’re too prideful to ask for help, too full of protection for me. This will set us back on the right track.”

She’s standing now, arms crossed to anchor her own sobs from escaping, “Frankie, we can survive until your drug test—“

“No,” he’s shaking his head, “it’s still another six weeks away.”

“You don’t have to do this, baby, I know you don’t want to.”

"I cannot let you struggle like this,” he’s shifting Luna again, her tiny fists balled into his shirt and he is devastated with his love for her, “I am supposed to provide for and protect this family. It was in my vows and I broke those.”

“For richer or poorer was also in the fucking vows, Francisco.”

He swallows hard, reaching out and pulling her into him. He can’t bear to see her face when he speaks again, his voice low with the confidence of a settled mind.

“I am going to Colombia." —————

He feels the stone falling from beneath him as he loses the mule to the mountainside, last in line of the five.

He should’ve done more. Held on tighter, walked faster. But as Santiago saw an animal and Tom saw money, he could only see himself falling over.

He lost count of the days he hadn’t called. Two? Three? Hadn’t heard her voice or the baby’s babbling as she responds to daddy. He saw himself at the bottom of that mountain. Never enunciating each syllable of Pa-pa for his little girl ever again, convincing himself that he would be her first word. Never pulling Leah into his arms, the scent of coconut and vanilla so profoundly intoxicating that all he could think about was sinking deep into her. All the comfort and clarity the world had to offer found in her arms and between her legs.

She insisted on the nicest sheets they could find and instead of falling into them, he only felt jagged rock at his back.

TAGLIST: @justanotherblonde23 | @greeneyedblondie44 | @icanbeyourjedi | @notcookiebelle | @princess76179​ | @bbuckysbeardd​ | @knivesareout​

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #827: Golfing (RWBY)

12:12 p.m. at Mistral's Country Club's Golf Course.......

Ruby: (Sitting on the Back of the Golf Cart While Looking Up at the Blue Skies in a Very Exhausted like Fashion) ('UGGGGGGHHHH') Why is it have to so freaking hot today? I feel I can die at any moment here!!

Oscar: (Starts Looking For his Ball He Just Hit While Holding his Golf Club Around) We'll get back to the cart as soon as I find where the ball is.... Couldn't be too far from here.

Ruby: (Turns to Oscar) How are you not as hot and exhausted as I am right now? (Starts Pouting at the Farm Boi While Pointing at Him) Did Ozpin taught you some kind of heat protection spell that I don't even know about?

Oscar: (Starts Rolling his Eyes a Bit Playfully) Trust me, Ruby. If I'd knew a spell like that would existence right now, I would've told you all about it a long time ago. But to answer to your first, real question, the heat doesn't really bother me as much as it used to. I guess being raised in a farm really does has it's quirks after all.

Ruby: I envy you and your farming life style sometimes....

Oscar: (Chuckles Lightly) I envy your lifestyle more. Enrolling to Becon to become a full fledged Huntsman like with you......It would've been nice.

Ruby: (Smiles Brightly) It would've been amazing!!~ We would've been best friends a lot earlier, do crazy missions together, I would've even taught you everything I know about the boring school life.

Oscar: (Smirks Playfully at Ruby) About how to be Chaotic Troublemaker like you were?

Ruby: (Glares at Oscar Again) Hey, I wasn't that terrible of a student!!!

Oscar: Then how come you started a Food War in the Cafeteria?

Ruby: I didn't start the whole thing! Nora did!.....Or was it Yang? I don't remember. The point is, I was a simple bystander defending my rights to eat peacefully.

Oscar: Uh-huh....

Ruby: You can "Uh-huh" me all you want, mister, but I know I'm speaking the truth! (Starts Sighing While Wiping the Sweat Off From Forehead) Anyways, can we pleeease do something else besides golf right now?

Oscar: (Turns to Ruby) You sure you wanna stop now? We only have like eight more holes to complete left.

Ruby: Yeah. I'm sure. (Slouches her Head Onto the Top of Both of her Palms) The heat is already killing me as we speak, Oscar.

Oscar: ('Sigh') Alright fine. We can always go back inside and hangout with Ms. Goodwitch the rest of the day.

Ruby: Nah. It would get boring in there real quick. And besides, I bet she's already having a lovely chat with her lady friends as we speak.

Oscar: (Place his Hand on his Chin) That is a possibility.....(Turns to Ruby) You have any ideas?

Ruby: Hmmmmm.....(Takes a Look at the Golf Kart She's Sitting on Right Now Before Smirking Mischievously) Wellllll~

A Couple of Minutes Later......

Ruby: (Excitedly Riding The Golf Kart Around the Course in Fast Speed With Oscar Sitting Next to Her) ('WOOOOOOOO!!')

Oscar: (Nervously Holding the Side Handle a BitTightly) Damnit, Ruby! Could you at least try and slowing down a little?

Ruby: No can do, Oscar!~ This is a perfect way to cool ourselves off! And don't you think it's a lot more fun to do this than playing golf under the sun all day?

Oscar: I'm more worry about the damages we'll cause than any of those things...Speaking of which...(Turns to Ruby) Do you even have driver's license?

Ruby: (Giggles Awkwardly) About that... I've..... never got the chance take the permit test....

Oscar: (Immediately Gives Ruby a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Seriously?

Ruby: Hey! Don't get moody at me, mister! I was too focused on being a Huntress at the time! And last I checked, YOU were the one who flew a Atlas Airship at Argus without flyer's permit!

Oscar: That because we were all in a do or die situation at the time. There wasn't anything else I could other than that.

Ruby: ('Sigh') Yeah. You do have point ther- (Suddenly Starts Gasping Loudly Before Putting the Golf to a Immediate Halt)

Oscar: (Confused by the Sudden Stop) What happened? Why did you stop?

Ruby: Oscar. Look...... (Points at a Small Hill in Front of Them) A-

Oscar: (Went Back to Having a Deadpinned Look) Don't tell me. You wanna try drive up to that hill with a maximum speed velocity....

Ruby: Yep.

Oscar: Knowing full well that there might be a 50/50 chance of not only getting ourselves hurt, but also getting the kart itself totaled.....

Ruby: Pretty much.

Oscar: Yet you still wanna give it a shot anyways because you're name is Ruby Rose.

Ruby: (Immediately Gives Oscar the Puppy Dog Eyes) Please?~ I promise to get the both of us out if there as soon as we start flying~

Oscar: (Stares at Ruby For a Brief Second or Two Take a Deep Breath) Bring it on.

Ruby: (Gasps Happily Before Turning Back at Front of the Grassy Road With a Determined Look on her Face) Yes sir!~

As the engine begins to roar loudly, Ruby starts driving the golf kart towards the hill quickly..... Except....the kart itself is suddenly not moving anywhere.

Ruby: What the- The engine's still on! Why are we not moving!?

Oscar: (Turns Around Only to Have his Eyes Widened a Second Later) Uhhhh, Ruby.....(Points at What is in Front of Him) I think we found our culprit.....

Ruby: (Turns Around) What is it, Osca- ('GASPS')

Much to the kids surprise, the culprit was none other than Glynda Goodwitch herself, using her wand to stop kart from moving any forward at ease.

Glynda: (Gives the Duo a Stern, Motherly Glare) Children.

Oscar: (Starting Chuckling a Bit Awkwardly While Slowly Waving at the Woman) H-Hey, Ms. Goodwitch.....

Few Minutes Later Inside the Country Club.......

Glynda: I cannot believe you two! Recklessly driving around the golf course with that kind of speed, without any supervision. What on Earth were you thinking?

Ruby: ('Sighs in Utter Defeat') We're sorry......We got so bored and hot outside that we-I mean...I thought about taking the kart for a ride.

Glynda: ('Sigh') Ruby, if that's really the case, then why didn't the both of you just come back in here and spend more time with me?

Oscar: You see, we thought about that. But.... We'd figured that you would be too busy spending time your friends some more. So we decided not to bother you at the time.

Glynda: ('Sighs Once More') I suppose I can understand where you're coming from of this....Our conversations have gotten quite longer as of late.... Regardless, I would rather have the both of you with me than seeing you two get yourselves hurt on a golf kart. I mean, seriously, do you have any idea how much that cost alone?

Ruby: Uhhhhh.....Three or....four hundred dollars?

Glynda: Thousands.

Ruby/Oscar: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) THOUSANDS!!!?

Ruby: For one stinking Golf Kart!?

Glynda: I'm afraid so. These karts are exclusively made in this Country Club for as long as I can remember. So it makes sense on why it would cost a high amount. You'd be surprise on much this membership actually cost by itself.

Oscar: You......want us to guess what the price of it too or.....

Glynda: No. That won't be necessary, Oscar. All I ask for the two of you right now is to stay here and not get into any more trouble. (Gives the Duo Another Motherly Glare) Unless you want me to inform Mr. Xiao Long and Ms. Valkyrie about the reckless actions you've made today.

Ruby: Nononononono! I-It's fine, Professor Goodwitch! You don't have tell them!

Oscar: Yeah! We'll stay out of trouble this time. Promise.

Glynda: (Stare at Oscar and Ruby For a Brief Second Before Sighing Once More) Very well. I suppose I'll take your word for it. In meantime.....(Gets Up From her Seat) Get us some refreshments. Anything you need specifically?

Ruby: Do they got anymore Chocolate Chip Cookies in this place?

Oscar: I'll just get water.

Glynda: (Simply Nodded) Done and done. I'll be right back. (Walks Away)

Ruby/Oscar: 'Kay!

Ruby: ('Sigh') Well....That was a day.

Oscar: Tell me about it.... I'm just glad we didn't any actual trouble from any from another else besides Ms. Goodwitch. Was she always this stress to you guys?

Ruby: Yeah. But we mostly asked for it. She was Ozpin right handed woman for a reason after all.

Oscar: (Chuckles Lightly) I can tell.....(Turns to Ruby) Sorry the day gotten boring for you?

Ruby: (Smiles Softly) Are you kidding? You don't need to be sorry for that. If anything, I should apologizing for dragging you into this mess in the first place.

Oscar: Don't be. I don't mind get dragging along with your antics every once and a while (Starts Blushing a Little) If anything....It made enjoy spending time with you a lot than before, you know?

Ruby: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprise) You really mean that?

Oscar: Of course I do. You mean a lot to me, Ruby and....I lov-(Eyes Immediately Starts Widened as His Blush Turns Bright Red) LIKE! Y-Y-Yeah! Yeah! That's what meant to say! Like! I like you, Ruby. Just....like.

Ruby: (Stares at Oscar For a Brief Second Before Giggling Softly) Oho Oscar~ (Pulls Oscar into a Loving Hug) I love you too, dumb-dumb~ Always.

Oscar: (Sighs Heavily Before Smiling Softly) Thanks.

@keyenuta

@caleb13frede

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

@roz-ani

@miki-13

@maripr

@oscarpineprotectionsquad

@neale-47-rwby

[spencers-renaissance]

The Noiseless Crash of Crumbling Walls

Summary: After Derek and Spencer are paired up on a science project in their senior year of high school, they become the closest, most unlikely friends possible. But what happens when Derek finally finds out what Spencer's dealing with at home? Inspired by the prompt “where did you get those bruises?”

Tags: high school au, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, hurt spencer, protective derek, abuse, friendship, pre-slash, spencer just turned 16, derek is almost 18

Word Count: 4.6k

Pairing: Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Part Two

This is a platonic Derek & Spencer friendship fic because they are minors, but there are seeds being fairly obviously sown for part two of this series which will be set when they are both over the age of 18.

Spencer unfolds the creased piece of paper he’s holding for the eleventh time as he stares up at the house in front of him. He remembers the address scrawled on the sheet Derek Morgan had ripped from the back of his notebook earlier that day perfectly, the spiky peaks of his handwriting and the surprisingly loopy ‘y’s and ‘g’s are burned into his brain, but nerves have overtaken his helpless body. He’s not exactly in control of his actions. 

It’s not much but it’s definitely a cheerful house, that much is clear from the brightly lit windows and colourful curtains, the many gnomes decorating the front garden and the carefully planted flowers neighbouring the vegetable patch. One of the windows upstairs is cracked slightly and he can hear 90s R&B floating through the airwaves, accompanied by a female singing voice. The welcome he knows he’ll receive, though, is exactly what’s giving him pause.

A happy home is so foreign to him he has no idea how to behave. He’s used to being the adult, but tonight he has to play the 16 year old he is, and his mask is so dusty and disused he’s worried he won’t be anywhere close to convincing. 

Eventually, though, he summons up the courage to make his way up the stony path leading to the bright red front door. A brass knocker stares him in the face, but there’s a doorbell to his right as well, and the choice debilitates him for a moment, leaving him standing uselessly on the front step. He decides on the doorbell, since it’s a little more subtle, and he only has to wait a couple of seconds before the door is being yanked open and a smiling Derek Morgan is right in front of him. 

“I thought you’d never come.” His voice is bright and cheery but Spencer wonders for a moment if he’s mad at him. He’d been early when he first turned onto Derek’s road, but his over-thinking and ritualistic obsession over the address written on a scrap piece of paper had made him late. 

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, and his desperation to be understood, his clear discomfort in such a foreign environment must be obvious, because Derek’s face softens even further. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, pretty boy,” he grins, slinging an arm around his shoulders and leading him deeper into the hallway as he kicks the door shut behind them. 

Pretty boy. He’d used the nickname once earlier that day when they were planning when to meet up for their science project, and Spencer had flushed immediately. No-one���s ever called him pretty. He’s an awkward, lanky 16 year old senior who’s far too short for his age; his appearance isn’t exactly conducive to flattery. 

The last time anyone had called him by a fond nickname was when he was eleven years old and his mother was still somewhat rational. She’d pulled him close and called him her baby boy, and while some pre-teens might have recoiled from such a name, he simply snuggled closer and tried to remember every second he was wrapped up in such warmth. Five years later, he’s so thankful he did. He replays it most nights before he drops off to sleep.

He blushes again at Derek’s easy affection, trying to relax into the warmth of his house. 

“Is that your friend, honey?” A woman emerges from what Spencer assumes is the kitchen, drying her hands on a teatowel. She looks every bit the stereotypical American mother, dressed in casual, comfortable clothes with a warm smile plastered across her face. “It’s so nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Fran, Derek’s mom.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” he says shyly, trying to meet her eyes but failing miserably. He can’t help that this whole experience is so out of his comfort zone it’s ridiculous. 

“Do you boys want any snacks to take up with you?”

“Are you hungry, Spencer?” Derek asks, and he internally panics for a moment. Yes, is the answer. Yes, I’m so hungry. The only thing I’ve eaten today is an apple this morning. But is he allowed to say that? He examines the both of them and it does look like a genuine offer, but will they guess that something is wrong if he says yes? It’s only six o’clock, though, so maybe he can swing it.

“Yes please,” he dares, “I haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Fran says, putting her hands on her hips. “You both head on up. I’ll bring up a tray.” 

Derek’s room is big, filled with football trophies and posters. It’s so achingly normal that Spencer’s stomach clenches as he gingerly takes a seat on his bed at Derek’s instruction. 

“I did some research that will help us with our presentation,” Spencer offers as Derek sits on his desk chair, spinning around to face him. 

It had been a shock when they’d been paired up. Derek’s friends had hollered and laughed when their chemistry teacher had paired them together, and Spencer had gone bright red at the humiliation, not that he could exactly blame them. Pairing up the skinny nerd who’d been moved up two grades with the jock who was almost guaranteed a football scholarship to an excellent university later this year had been a rather bizarre choice on their teacher’s part.

It’s not that Spencer minded: along with being the quarterback with a 4.0 GPA, he was also painfully nice. But everyone else certainly did. Every girl in their science class had sent him death glares as Derek had sauntered over to his desk at the end of class, wearing a lazy grin.

“Chill, pretty boy,” Derek chuckles as he pushes himself side to side in his spinning chair. “We got time.”

“I have to be back home by 9,” Spencer says sheepishly. He’s sure most people in their senior year are allowed to stay out later than that, and he hopes against hope Derek thinks it’s only because he’s sixteen and not that he has to get his mother into bed and try and force her meds down her throat so she won’t wake him up in the middle of the night convinced the shadows in her room are government spies. 

“Still three hours. Anyway, I’m sure my mom can drop you home,” Derek shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. Besides, we have weeks until we have to present. Why don’t we spend tonight getting to know each other? I feel like I should know a little bit about my project partner, especially if we’re going to be working together for the rest of the year.”

“The rest of the year?” His voice squeaks anxiously but he can’t help it, Derek’s completely catching him off guard. 

“Yeah. Ms Farron keeps partners from the first project together for every assignment that year.”

This is news to Spencer, but he tries to keep calm. It’s a good thing, right? Derek has always been friendly to him, and he’s intelligent, too. It’s unlikely he’ll fob all the work off onto him. But being taken advantage of and subsequently left alone is what he’s used to: ‘getting to know each other’ is decidedly new territory. Spencer’s head is spinning. 

“Oh.”

“So, pretty boy,” Derek grins, giving himself another 360 spin, “tell me what a 16 year old is doing in senior year.”

“I got moved up two grades back in elementary school,” he explains, grateful that this is at least a rather impersonal topic. “My teachers wanted me even higher but two grades is the maximum our school district allows.”

“I guessed that much,” Derek points out. “Why were you moved up two grades?”

They’re briefly interrupted by Fran’s delivery of a delectable spread for them to feast on. Spencer reaches for a cracker and dips it in some cream cheese, but as soon as he’s swallowed his first bite, Derek gives him a look that tells him he hasn’t exactly gotten away with it. 

He sighs. “The last time I was tested, I had an IQ of 187,” he admits, looking down at his worn sneakers. He’d expected to be told to remove them, but he’s glad he wasn’t. His socks almost certainly have holes in them, and laundry isn’t something he can afford to do often. “And I have an eidetic memory.”

Derek lets out a low whistle. “Damn, I knew you were a genius but that’s some next level shit,” he says, before popping a grape in his mouth. “You’re going places, Spencer Reid.” He’s saved from having to fight his blush too hard by Derek moving swiftly on. “Your turn to ask me a question.” 

Spencer takes a second to think before deciding to push the boat out, to ask something he actually wants to know instead of playing it safe. “You’re popular, star of the football team, get straight As,” he starts slowly, not meeting Derek’s eyes. “What makes you so nice? You could easily join in with your friends and be another asshole jock pushing me into lockers.”

When he looks up, Derek’s face is an array of emotions. “Kindness costs nothing,” he says seriously, and the intensity of his gaze surprises Spencer. “I saw my pops shot to death in front of me when I was ten and I got my ass kicked every day in freshman year, believe it or not. I know what kindness can mean to a person just as much as I know what cruelty does to someone.”

Spencer doesn’t really know what to say to that, but he knows that he’s finally relaxed a little. Derek’s stark honesty and vulnerability, as much as he doesn’t know quite the right way to react, is refreshing to him, and it’s made the icon of their school seem much more human. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Spencer says quietly. 

“Thanks, man,” Derek says, a half smile crossing his face. “What about your family life?” 

Spencer swallows another bite of his cream cheese and crackers, his empty stomach thanking him for finally filling it. “My dad walked out when I was ten,” he admits, treading as carefully as possibly. “It’s just me and my mom now.”

“I’m sorry. Are you and your mom close?”

How does he answer a question like that? They’re close in the respect that Spencer cares for her and spends every free moment he has with her. But he also holds his breath every time he turns down his street, half expecting to see his house up in flames, and they’re going hungry this week because she threw most of their groceries in a nearby river after convincing herself it was all poisoned. They don’t exactly have a typical mother-son relationship. 

“Something like that,” he mumbles, stuffing another cracker into his mouth. Derek clearly takes the hint that he doesn’t want to elaborate and moves on. 

They spend the rest of the evening taking it in turns asking one another questions, ranging from simple ones like their favourite colours to deeper conversations around their future plans and biggest fears. By the time 9 rolls around, they’re lying next to one another on Derek’s bed both facing the ceiling as they trade questions back and forth. Fran’s dinner tray is now covered in crumbs, her carefully prepared spread having been demolished by two hungry teenagers. 

Their assigned topic, Enthalpy, Entropy, and Free Energy, hasn’t even been touched, and Spencer can’t find it in him to care. He could throw together a perfect presentation the night before if he needed to. Right now, getting to know Derek Morgan seems far more important. Ironically, the boy he’s only really started to get to know three hours ago is probably the person who knows him best in this whole world, and the thought makes his chest hurt. 

The jittery nerves that had consumed him at the start of the evening have dissipated into a calm companionship, and he can’t believe how comfortable he now feels. He doesn’t want to leave, but he has to take care of his mom; she’s already been on her own for so long today. 

As if on cue, Fran knocks on the door, poking her head round. “Would you like me to drop you home, Spencer?”

He feels guilty accepting, but the last thing he wants is a twenty minute walk home through the streets of Chicago in the pitch black December night. “Yes, please.”

Derek comes with them for the short drive, and Spencer feels a little embarrassed as he points out the apartment block he lives in. It’s a shitty neighbourhood and his building is crumbling, but it’s home and it’s the cheapest they can afford on welfare. He ducks out of the car and shoots them both a grateful smile. 

“Thank you for driving me home, Fran,” he says. “And thank you for a nice evening, Derek.”

“No problem, pretty boy,” Derek winks. “I’ll find you at school tomorrow and we’ll sort out another night to meet up, yeah?”

The smile the Morgans put on his face doesn’t fade until he opens the door to his apartment and reality brings him crashing back down to earth. 

⭐️

Over the next few weeks, Spencer Reid gains his first friend. They finally end up actually writing their presentation and naturally, they get an A+ but Spencer’s anxiety that Derek would want to stop hanging out with him once the project that had brought them together was behind them ended up being for nothing. Derek had fist-bumped him as they’d walked out of their classroom. “Come over tonight?” he’d asked, and once Spencer had recovered from his shock, he’d beamed and nodded excitedly. 

As Christmas comes and goes, they continue their bizarre friendship. Spencer runs up to Derek’s room as soon as the door is opened, and dives under the covers on his bed, always freezing cold. The first time Derek had cuddled Spencer, he hadn’t been able to stop smiling. He’s seriously touch-starved, and it’s only more apparent from the way he craves contact with Derek. He’s ridiculously thankful that the older boy is so free with his affection, not consumed by the same toxic masculinity that seems to plague the rest of the football team. 

It’s nearing February when Derek asks the fatal question.

Spencer had whizzed home after school and made sure his mom was okay before running over to Derek’s, breezing past Sarah on the staircase and diving onto the soft, clean bed sheets. He’s sometimes jealous of all the home comforts his friend has access to, but he does his best to tamp it down. It’s not like it’s Derek’s fault that he’s well-loved and cared for. 

“Whoa, pretty boy,” Derek chuckles as he spins around from where he’s doing homework at his desk. “Where’s that shy boy who sat right on the edge of my bed only two months ago, hm?”

“You prefer confident Spencer and you know it.” He moves up the bed a little to sit with his back against the headboard. He’s never become so comfortable around a person this quickly before but there’s something different about Derek. 

“Can’t argue with that.” He gets off the chair and moves to sit next to Spencer on the bed, lifting his arm to let the smaller boy cuddle close. Spencer sometimes has nightmares that the boys at school find out how affectionate they are with one another and call them gay after which Derek doesn’t want to hang out with him anymore. (Secretly, he thinks he might actually be gay, but he won’t tell Derek that. Just in case.)

“Can I stay for dinner?” he asks. It’s a moot point: Spencer always asks if he can stay and the Morgans always say yes, but he doesn’t like assuming, especially since he knows how expensive food is. Not that Fran has ever complained about an extra mouth to feed, though. The dinners at Derek’s house are always a family affair, full of laughter and hearty, homemade meals and Spencer likes pretending he’s one of them, just for a little while. 

The guilt that he’s leaving his mom for so long eats him up, only eased by the knowledge that she usually sleeps the afternoon away, worn out by a manic morning. He has no idea how to navigate this anymore. It was easier when the only person he had in the world was his mom, but now he has Derek and his family. And as much as he loves his mom and doesn’t mind taking care of her at all, spending time with Derek doesn’t automatically trigger gut-eating anxiety and heart-wrenching misery.

“Of course you can stay, don’t be ridiculous.” Derek elbows him playfully. “You don’t need to ask every night.”

“What if one night you don’t want me to stay, though?”

“I thought I told you to stop being ridiculous?”

Spencer can’t help but smile at Derek’s relaxed, easy grin. For some reason this popular football player with the world as his oyster and a million friends chooses to spend every evening with the nerd who’s two years younger than everyone in their year. For some reason, Derek chooses Spencer. 

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Derek asks the question. “Why don’t I come over to your place instead one evening?” It’s a casual suggestion, there’s nothing really behind it. “I’d like to meet your mom and see your bedroom. If you’re gonna make fun of my football trophies, I need some revenge material.”

Spencer freezes. He has no idea how to respond to such an innocent proposition. Derek takes his stunned silence as reluctance simply cured with a little more persuasion. “Besides,” he continues, “I feel bad that you always have to run home first before coming over here. It’s like a twenty minute walk.”

“I don’t know,” Spencer hedges, trying to buy time as he comes up with a cover story. “My mom is really particular about our space and she doesn’t really like visitors. I’m not sure your mom could spare you a family dinner anyway.” He pushes Derek playfully, hoping to God he’s even half-way convincing. 

One glance at Derek’s face tells him he isn’t buying it, but he can clearly read Spencer’s troubled anxiety expression so he doesn’t push it. “Okay, pretty boy,” he says, relaxing back into the bed, “we’ll stick with the Fran Morgan dinner delight for now.”

Something tells him he won’t get so lucky next time. 

⭐️

Spring is just starting to show her face the next time it comes up, and this time it’s completely Spencer’s fault. He shouldn’t have gone over to Derek’s. He should have made up an excuse and stayed in his shitty apartment with his mom, but he couldn’t help it. He was sore and desperately sad, and all he wanted was Fran’s comforting shepherd’s pie and a cuddle with Derek. So he’d made his way home, checked his mom was still sleeping before limping over to the Morgan’s.

He’d concealed it pretty well all day, but energy is seeping out of him and the pain is only getting worse, not helped by the decent trek across town. 

He has a key now, so he lets himself in, hoping to avoid Fran until dinner time. Luckily, he’s quiet enough to not disturb her baking in the kitchen, so he makes his way slowly up the stairs, hoping Derek is not as perceptive tonight as he usually is. He’d briefly considered using bullies as a cover story if it came up, but Derek has spent almost every moment he could at school with him the last few days, he wasn’t out of his sight long enough to really encounter anyone cruel enough for it to be a viable story. 

“Pretty boy,” Derek greets him, not turning away from the maths homework he’s finishing up. It gives Spencer a little extra time to make it to the bed like he usually does. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Spencer sighs. “A bit tired. You?”

“Training was rough today so I’m sore as shit, but otherwise I’m fine. Better now you’re here.” He turns to smile fondly at Spencer, finally locking eyes on his pale, sallow skin and defeated expression. He scrambles to try and make himself look slightly less terrible, but he’s not quick enough. “You sure you’re good? You don’t look it.”

“No, seriously, I’m fine,” Spencer tries to persuade him. “Just tired as I said. Can we watch a movie while we wait for dinner?”

Derek doesn’t look even close to convinced, but he gives in and brings up netflix on his computer. Spencer collapses against Derek and lets his eyes close as the film they choose plays across the laptop screen, but he must fall asleep because the next thing he knows, he’s being shaken awake by his friend and he’s in a completely different position. 

“Spencer, wake up,” he says insistently, and the urgent worry in his tone makes him sit up, wincing when the movement aches his core. 

“What? What’s wrong?” he mumbles sleepily, obediently sitting up at Derek’s instruction. 

“Pretty boy,” Derek says, sounding teary and a little desperate, “where did you get those bruises?” 

He freezes for a second before glancing down at himself and realising that as he’d slept his shirt had shifted, revealing his black and blue stomach. How the fuck was he going to explain this? Not seeming himself wasn’t such a challenge, everyone has their off-days after all, but bruises like these aren’t the sort of thing your best friend just drops when you don’t want to explain them. 

“I—” He has no idea what to say. Tears spring to his eyes in a terribly unhelpful fashion, and Derek moves closer, wrapping Spencer up in a hug. 

“It’s okay, you can tell me, Spencer,” he promises as he holds him so tenderly it breaks his heart. “Take your time.” 

He cries for a good few minutes — it just feels so good to let it out — but as his painful sobs draw to a close, he knows it’s time to face the music. There’s no other option. He has to tell Derek. And maybe a teeny tiny part of him actually wants to tell his best friend.

“I haven’t been honest with you,” he confesses, keeping his head buried in his friend’s chest so he doesn’t have to look him in the eyes. Derek’s hand combing through his hair doesn’t falter. “The reason I didn’t want you to come to my place is because of my mom… She’s a paranoid schizophrenic. When my dad left I became her primary carer, and I’m— I’m not doing a good job.”

Derek holds him a little tighter and presses his cheek to the top of Spencer’s head, shushing him quietly. “Don’t say that, I’m sure you’re doing an amazing job.”

“The other night she got confused because she’d refused her meds again. She became convinced that I was a spy there to hurt her. I can usually talk her down from these moments, or at least guide her to bed to let her sleep it off, but this time there was no reasoning. Eventually, she got so worked up that she shoved me backwards, hard. It sent me sprawling face first across the coffee table, and she kicked me twice before considering herself safe and barricading herself in her room.” He tells the whole story through thick tears, shoulders still shaking with pent up emotion. He wishes it didn’t feel so good to finally get off my chest. 

“Spencer, oh my God,” Derek whispers, sounding thoroughly shocked. He’s suddenly fearful that he’s going to report Diana, and he sits up, finally meeting Derek’s teary eyes with his own. 

“You can’t… you can’t tell anyone,” he begs. “If anyone finds out, she’ll be locked away and I’ll be put into foster care. I can’t do that to her and I can’t lose you.” 

Derek takes Spencer’s hands. “Okay, okay,” he soothes, making him calm down a little. “I promise I won’t tell anyone, okay? Not without your permission. But I also can’t let you be beat up by your mom.”

“It’s not her fault,” Spencer says desperately, “it’s not her fault. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, she thinks she’s in danger.”

“I know,” Derek promises him, “I know it’s not her fault, but she still hurt you. Has this happened before?” Spencer’s hung head and refusal to respond speaks for itself. “Okay, listen. I know you need to go home tonight, but come over tomorrow morning okay? It’s a Saturday and we can spend the morning figuring out a game plan and the afternoon taking your mind off it. How does that sound?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Is this… is this why you like being here?” Derek sounds nervous asking the question, clearly not wanting to offend him.

“Before I became friends with you,” he whispers, moving back to hide against Derek’s chest where it’s safe, “I went hungry a lot. We don’t have much money between rent and bills and mom’s medical expenses. I had to hide the groceries because she would become convinced they were poisoned and destroy them, but she got really good at finding them. I had to stop keeping them in my room because she would insist that I was corroborating with the government in trying to poison her.” 

“Spencer,” Derek breathes, holding onto him for dear life. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t know about any of this, I would’ve done something, I could’ve helped.”

“I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“I’ll keep you safe now. I promise.” 

When Fran comes and asks them down for dinner a few minutes later, Derek points to Spencer’s exhausted form slumped against him and asks if they can have it up in his room. She relents, and Derek manages to get him to eat a few bites of the risotto Fran had made, not leaving his safe cocoon against Derek’s chest.

He insists on driving Spencer home himself tonight, surprising Fran who had her coat and boots on already, but he escorts his friend right up to his door. “If you come in, mom will get confused,” he explains so Derek gives him a long hug in front of his apartment door instead, holding him as close as possible. 

“Spencer… you know I love you right?” he asks, expression intense and serious as his gentle hands rest on his shoulders. “You’re my best friend. I’m always gonna be here for you.”

“I love you, too, Derek,” he whispers, giving him another hug. It scares him just how much he means those five little words, all the meanings that dance behind them taking him aback. For now, though, he settles on one more tight squeeze before deciding to not procrastinate the inevitable anymore. “I should go in and see mom.”

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up at 9 tomorrow?”

“Perfect.” His heart does an excited little leap at the thought of seeing Derek again in the morning. As he walks away back towards the elevators, Spencer takes a deep breath before inserting his key into the lock on his door and pushing it open. He only has to go 12 hours without seeing his best friend. He can do this. 

His life suddenly seems like it holds infinitely more promise than it ever has. He supposes that’s the power of Derek Morgan.

Part Two 

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @hotchgans @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith  (taglist form)

[lucefrs]

          tl;dr: luce thinks about how she should have never ended up at georgetown in the first place, and the domino effect it had on her life. after flunking out of gallagher, she savours the summer. her and scott break up sometime after new years. a quick onslaught of success makes her feel wary, unsure how to not take up space she doesn’t deserve after doing it so many times before. she performs her own song in the lower east side.

                                                                      insp for the song she plays at the end. 

BEFORE.

luce is a bright child but lacks in the area of self discipline and application. she would benefit from paying closer attention during class discussion.

she knew from a very young age that she was not smart. at least not by the metric that institutions measure by. the unlucky curse that has kept her in the stream of academia is this: luce frear is smart enough. to graduate secondary school because it’s a key that unlocks america’s golden arches. to pursue higher education when she gets the encroaching feeling that she’s going to be found out that she doesn’t actually have any family friend's as guarantors. at the time, she doesn’t know how impossible georgetown is. but finding herself in the company of a man who will pay for her to do well, with a tutor that makes the s.a.t’s boil down to a formula of memorization and deduction is a genius move. those three hours are brutal, she struggles but she struggles through it, proud that only a handful of questions were left unanswered. it’s only after she's sat for it that she realizes how impossible georgetown is with it’s fourteen percent acceptance rate.

she uses his mailing address to apply, so it’s him that greets her with a sealed envelope that makes her stomach turn as soon as she opens the door. out of the corner of her eye she sees a bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of ice. she knows what the letter will say: her sat score’s a valiant effort, enough to get her into any state school, but by no means exceptional. bracing herself for his disappointment she pushes the folded paper towards him so she can pretend his disappointment’s directed at the words on the page and not at her. but the skin at the corner of his eyes pinches and there’s no crease between his brows and she knows something is very wrong. or very right. she’s not sure, at the time it’s all very muddled, thinking about how much she likes that there's no place for his smile to hide, and how that's going to be one of her favourite parts of getting old. his smile that runs right to the tip of his nose, bumps against her cheek when he kisses her. he’s kissing her. he’s happy. because of her. she’s made him happy. that's good. she's happy too. then he’s by the kitchen counter, shaking off the champagne from his hand that’s flows over the lip of the bottle and she’s saying things like, ‘   my sat scores were no where near the average,    ’ and he counters that she shouldn’t disregard the importance of supplemental essays and she makes fun of how he talks because she always does. a girl’s got nothing but a gut to trust, and every glass of champagne’s a fuck you to it. luce never pukes from having too much to drink. she pukes in his shower. luce is not smart, but she’s smart enough not to question how she got into georgetown university.

‘   god, you’re so smart luce. we could call it the boyfriend guesses my lip gloss challenge.   ’ she only hears the first part, boasting a smile that makes the apples of her cheeks swell, all rosy like. at the time gallagher had felt like a enticing romp, bound by infatuation, the glint of the dew that hung at the end of the school’s weeping willows sparkling so bright that her heart-shaped sunglasses couldn’t subdue it. luce has never waited for anything, but her first few months at gallagher felt like a gift the universe had hand-picked, oblivious of her christmas list doodled with music notes and brand names of dresses that cost seven hundred dollars, it felt like finding treasure. smart’s an understatement, genius is more apt. she lets this sentiment lead, when the offer to stay comes soaring towards at her like paper plane that falls right into the palm of her hands. it makes logical sense to stay. scott’s here.

she’ll adapt. but gallagher starts to feel worlds away, and as much as she digs her heels into the gravel, gravity starts to slip from her grasp. but how could she can complain? in outer space, anywhere she looks there’s an endless landscape of stars, bright and twinkling, beckoning her towards the nearly planet. but it makes her want to cry when she sees the blue-green dot recede into the distance.

PRESENT-ISH.

luce has her final exam tomorrow and she’s going to crush it. she’s so excited she can’t sleep. there’s no way she could fail it, unless she slept through it but that won’t happen because she has five alarms set and a scott for safe measure. she’s so excited her heart’s sprinting from her sternum to her stomach and it would be classified as nausea if she didn’t know it was just plain excitement. she winces at the brightness from her phone as she checks the time. 3:36. if she falls asleep in the next four minutes she’ll have a solid four hours, but as soon as she closes her eyes her heart runs like it’s just heard the start of the piston, and the percentage she needs to get in order to pass the class rings aloud and reverberates against her brain. forty six percent. she doesn’t even need to pass the exam in order to pass the class — she’s going to be a gallagher girl. whether she likes it or not. in the dark, her hand finds the nob of his bedside drawer, carefully sliding it open, her fingers tinkering inside to feel for whatever weed scott has, gifted joints or a prized gram for winning a dumb luck game. he always has something, even after he passes some of it on to seb. she doesn’t go far, slips out of his grasp and onto the lantern lit cobbled pavements, follows it strictly like she’s on a board in a game of snakes and ladders, stopping every time she takes a drag. she eventually falls against a bench like an abandoned rag-doll, limbs splayed every which way and falls asleep until she's woken up by the rev of a motorcycle engine set as her alarm. luce goes through the pre-test motions with due diligence, takes a shower and eats a proper meal, as though there's someone waiting to accuse her of self-sabotage. she picks up her tote that's packed from the night before and gives the test her all. it's not her fault that her focus wavered in five minute blocks, or that nerves make her feel as though there's an ongoing tussle in her tummy. she treats the residual high as something she couldn't possibly have controlled, it should've left her system by now. and she’s a hero for persevering through it. she tried her best. and in spite of it all, she still fails. thank god.

SUMMER.

she doesn’t want the summer to end. it does anyways.  

INTERLUDE

she's not the type to tuck herself into the booth, but harper’s gone to the bathroom and luce has a gnarly blister on the back of her heel, and her head’s been swimming in cheap liquor all night with no reprieve. she can’t get her head above water for more than a minute before falling back under. her gaze catches a couple in the corner, slow dancing to david guetta and her lips curl into a wry smile, his lips cushioned against his neck, murmuring something she’ll never know, and then they’re laughing — maybe about the fact that they’re slow dancing to memories, or because they’re in love, everything’s funnier when you’re in love. a tiny giggle, lost to the boom of the speakers escapes her, because she’s so in love too.

i miss you.   missing ur 🍆 spare nudes? 🙏🏼 ft? x

she holds down the backspace key and puts her phone away.

                                                         ***

‘   i don't know how to miss you in the right way,   ’ she says after a bout of silence, it makes her stomach lurch, like stepping off a ledge and finding the ground lower than expected. there’s no chance to blink back the tears, and she’s so in shock from what she’s just said that she makes no motion to cover her face from him, staring down the barrel of the webcam, like she’s on the brink of death. she’d give up the forty years of her life to get to the part where she can look back on this fondly, of a great love that once was. her child-like whimpers have her grappling for breath. ‘   it hurts.   ’ she manages to sputter out, and she knows it’s hurting him too. eventually, luce will blink away the last of her tears, because she needs this picture to really believe it.

SOMETIME, SOME DAY.

she's not so much herself as she is everyone else. there are pieces of her in the crescendo of what billboard deems the song of the summer. she’s etched in the familiarity of the bass in the last song played before last call — the resonant thrum of waking up blacked out on the front lawn of an ex best friend. the producer that the lead singer can't function without. the origin story of a grammy nominated album which started on the fire escape, exiled by roaches, a guitar slung like a rifle entering the wild wild west of cicadas and greeted by an empty ashtray save for a half abandoned spliff. a story deified for late night talk shows with parrot hosts and their fake squawks. it’s all made up names in CD booklets that no one looks at anyways. it doesn’t make her an enigma, she has a wikipedia page. record labels take her out for lunch, and she goes because she likes people, even the kind who gawk at her pretty face, drooling at the dollar signs in her doe brown eyes and blonde hair. of course, they love her, a girl who orders salad but doesn’t skip dessert — a reluctance toward fame but endlessly optimistic about the future of the music industry, splits the bill and turns a handshake into a hug when they express their keen interest in working with her. there’s a twinkling note of laughter when she pulls away and says, ‘    you’ve never even heard me sing. i’m not good enough.   ’ and she realizes with a twitch of bitterness that she doesn’t have to be, and things working out feels more like a curse when it isn’t deserved.

she talks but can't write unless it's in time signatures and treble clefs and if she does manage to write in a language comprised of letters ( which has only ever happened once ) she can't sing - unless it’s for boys she likes. so she poaches a voice, scrolling through the repertoire of people who have held her heart in their hands. her song is the last song of his set and it sounds like this. they smile through every note, she laughs at his falsetto in the last chorus. she plays her heart out with a vigour that leaves her palms moist, expecting that when the song ends there’ll be a silence broached by the slow clap of j.k simmons. luce lives in a movie and can feel the montage scene catch up to her. she can feel the lingering memory that never existed : a swollen belly and walls painted pink, a toddler that makes their white picket fenced garden a stomping ground, a cinematic pan across a fairy-lit paris, and night walks. when she looks over, she’ll see him, but she’s going to change the ending. her pinky hovers above the last key she played, letting the sound ring out into silence, before they’re met with fervent applause and whistles. this is the moment. luce looks into the crowd. she looks into the crowd and none of the faces are him because why would they be ? she hadn’t told anyone. the only person who knew was herself. it was hers. this moment is hers and she cradles it close, because she’s never had something of her own before. not really. but she likes the way it feels. the man who once held her heart in his hand kisses the top of her head and praises her with a plunging bow. she looks into the sea of strangers who watch her and she watches them back. this is the moment. hers alone. and she’s never felt less lonely.

[as-a-matter-of-whump]

Saltwater Day

Here we go again, @brutal-nemesis!

Tobias masterlist

CW: death threats, cuts, mouth whump, threats of mutilation, blood, painful wound cleaning, implied dehydration

‘Do you finally start to adapt to your new life, boy?’

‘You wish!’ Tobias hisses, fighting against the rough ropes that bind him.

He knows that he won’t be able to free himself, but at the same time, he won’t submit to his captor. Especially now that he starts to understand why these things are happening to him, the knowledge makes him even angrier. He will not give in, he is going to fight, whatever the cost. He will see his mum again - and he will tell everybody what this piece of shit did to him.

‘You might want to stop being cheeky if you want me to untie you.’

‘I don’t care if you do, you can’t let me die here anyway, he’d never forgive you.’

‘You think so?’ the older man smirks.

‘Yes, actually I do. You won’t kill me and you won’t- AHHHH!’

Frozen in shock, Tobias looks down at his bleeding arm and, seconds later, at the blade in his captor’s hand.

‘I won’t what?’

Another cut, right next to the first one.

‘Does he know you’re doing this to me? You’ll be completely and utterly fucked if he ever gets to see those scars, not to mention the brand…’

The man guffaws and bends down until his lips are close to Tobias’s ear.

‘You have no idea what you’re talking about, boy… I can do whatever I want as long as you stay alive, so don’t try to test me… And believe me, there are so many body parts that aren’t particularly important to stay alive… You know the rules by now, do you? Everything comes with a price - you either earn it by doing what I tell you to do, or you pay for it, it’s as simple as that. I recommend the first option, but it’s totally up to you.’

‘I won’t do what you say, however much you threaten me.’

‘Still so mouthy, well, well, well… But we both know you don’t need your tongue to survive, don’t we?’

The feeling of the blade scratching along his lips sends shivers down his spine and for once, he stays silent, too afraid to open his mouth, but suddenly the blade is pressed down, cutting through the sensitive skin like butter and Tobias can’t help screaming.

‘I know how to treat wounds like this, it won’t be a problem at all… the blood loss will make you feel dizzy and tired for a few days, but you will survive…’

Tobias doesn’t move a single inch as the blade touches his tongue, he doesn’t even dare to flinch, full of fear that his captor might deliver on his threat. 

‘I could cut it out right now,’ he muses, ‘Just like that…’

The feeling of the blade gliding through his tongue and the blood filling his mouth make Tobias shriek in agony. He wants to lift his hands, to cover his mouth, to stop the bleeding… but they’re still tied to the water pipe behind him. The blade vanishes and he lowers his head, letting the blood drip to the ground. He only wants this to end, to finally be alone again.

The man looks down on him with a smirk.

‘I think I convinced you that you’ve been mistaken about what I can actually do to you, boy. Because I can and I will do pretty much everything to form you at my will. And if that means that I’ll have to destroy you to re-create you the way you are supposed to be… well, I don’t mind doing that either.’

Again he lifts the blade and Tobias recoils, horrified. It takes him a while to realise that it is only being used to cut his restraints.

‘You want something to rinse your mouth?’

Tobias nods tiredly but the man doesn’t seem to be content with that.

‘You have to ask me politely if you want something, you know that, don’t you?’

‘Can I… can I have some water… please?’

‘Didn’t you forget something?’

‘...Sir?’ he chokes with blood running down his chin.

‘Now you just have to form a complete sentence and I might consider your request.’

‘Can I have some w-water please, S-Sir?’

Tobias feels like he’s going to faint any second, but he keeps telling himself that he won’t have to keep up his strength for much longer - he only has to wait until his captor is gone and then he can rest and try to tend to his wounds. At least he only cut him a few times instead of removing his whole tongue...

‘You can,’ the man replies and leaves for a short moment. When he comes back, he carries two plastic bottles with him that he hands to his captive.

‘I’m in a good mood today so you get one to clean your wounds and one to drink. I hope you appreciate that.’

‘I do, thank you… Sir.’

‘You’re welcome, boy.’

As soon as he’s alone again, Tobias unscrews one of the bottles and slowly pours some of the water into his mouth, but the very moment it gets in contact with the fresh wounds, he starts to whimper; how can this hurt so much? But he has to do this now, he has to stop the bleeding and first of all, he has to get rid of that awful metallic taste that makes him gag. He pours more and more water onto his lips and his tongue, but instead of making things better, it hurts him even more. How can this be? He bends over and disgorges the liquid, but the inside of his mouth still feels like it’s burning. The bad taste is gone, though only to be replaced by another one. It almost tastes like… He reaches for the bottle again and smells at it.

‘You bastard,’ he mumbles and grabs the second bottle, sniffing again, but the result is the same.

Rinsing his mouth with saltwater might have been a good method to disinfect the wounds, but he starts to wonder how long he would be able to survive without anything else to drink.

***

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @redstainedsocks

[airis-paris14]

Starlight Chapter 13

Summary: Amani is an orphaned heiress who's spent most of her life raising her younger sister. T'Challa is a widowed King and Father. Neither of them is expecting much from their night at the Lotus. But the coming months have many milestones in store for these young adults. Will becoming a family be one of them?

Warnings: N/A

Masterlist

2 months later

“Amani, I’m about to head out,” Amare called, grabbing her house keys off of the hook. “Okay, hold on, I'll be right back Baby.” T’Challa nodded into the phone and muted himself to speak to someone off screen. Amani hurried down the stairs and smiled at her little sister. “Okay, passport, keys, tickets, wallet, and medicine in carryon?”

“Yes mother,” Amare smirked.

“I’m just trying to keep you safe kid,” the older Okeke smiled and pulled her in for a hug. “You’re 18, not 21, so please, no sneaking off without telling Shuri’s guards where you all are going. Limit your alcohol intake, I know it’s legal over there but the last thing I need is a call from a German hospital saying you have alcohol poisoning.”

“I promise I will limit the drinking, and the sneaking out.”

“Good. Have fun, be safe. I love you.” Amani smiled and pulled her sister in for another hug. “Love you too sis. I’ll only be gone for a week.”

“I know, but you know I hate saying goodbye. You’re all I have left kid. But I want to let you live, so go before you miss your flight. Hug Shuri for me.

“I’ll call you when I land.” Amare bounded down the front steps and into her already packed car. Amani sighed watching her wave one last time before pulling off down the street. She waved at the patrol car as it drove by on its hourly surveillance drive by, before locking her door and heading up the stairs into her office. “And I’m back,” she plopped into her seat, reopening her MacBook.

“Personally I don’t think it’s fair that our sisters see each other more than we do,” the king teased. Amani rolled her eyes, “This is their first time seeing each other since we came home, it’s only been two months,” Amani laughed. “Yes, and after having you here for three months, I’ve decided that 61 days is too long to be out of your presence.”

“Well you know I’m working to get the venue started up, I just can’t travel as much as usual. You know I would be there if I could,” Her voice began to tremble.

“I know my love,” T’Challa reassured, “I am just teasing,” he frowned, noticing her eyes tearing up. “I know but lately I’ve just been feeling like such a bad girlfriend,” she began to sob and the king panicked. “Hey no, you’re perfect. Nothing's wrong. It’s on both of us and I was gonna tell you that I was planning to surprise you with a visit.”

“Really?” Amani sniffled.

“Yes so please stop crying entle.” The heiress grabbed a tissue from the box she had begun to keep on her desk after noticing that even the little things made her tear up. “I’m sorry. I ruined the surprise again,” she chuckled, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “It is fine, now you have something to look forward to. You hate them anyway,” the king teased.

“Are you sure you’re alright though my love? You have been extra-sensitive lately.”

“In more ways than one,” the heiress murmured. “Have you been to the new doctor, did she run the tests the doctor here ordered?” The king grabbed a stack of papers and began signing them. “Yep,” Amani read over and responded to an email her contractor sent before turning her attention back to T’Challa. “I have an appointment with her tomorrow. She and Dr. Zabulie both sounded very excited so I’m hoping it's a positive result.”

The king smiled at the news, “Well then I’ll be expecting a full report as soon as you know.”

“Of course. I’ll call your mother as well, I wouldn’t even be in this position if you all hadn’t encouraged me to go see another doctor.”

“We both just want what is best for you,” the king smiled, “but unfortunately I have a meeting to attend to my love. I will call you later tonight, okay?”

“Of course, I’ll see you later.” She blew a kiss through the phone before the king had to hang up. After responding to more emails, she scheduled some property manager interviews for later in the week and a building walk through. Her phone caught her attention as it began to ring, “Hello?” She answered. “Hey, Kura and I finished those designs for different set ups and interiors, are you free to go over them?”

“Yeah,” Amani smiled. While in Wakanda she and her friends decided to go into the event business together. They’d bought an old hotel downtown in Atlanta and decided to turn it into a sleepover venue. With suites and rooms designed for different party sizes and moveable features to make the room age appropriate. A spa, boutique, and restaurant, would be located on the grounds as well. There was also a separate grand ballroom and garden that allowed them to market the place as an all in one wedding venue. They’d started work while in Wakanda and now two months later they were weeks away from opening the ballroom, gardens, and other non overnight amenities for event bookings. They would use the money from the rentals to help recover the costs of renovating the hotel rooms.

“Bet. We’ll be over in 30. Sakura has to pick up the pizza first.”

“Cool, don’t forget extra garlic butter sauce. Imma hop in the shower. Y’all can just use your keys to let yourselves in.”

After hanging up the phone Amani hopped in the shower and let the water soothe her muscles. She’d been working so hard to make sure everything came together and it finally was. She was more in love with T’Challa each day, she was starting a business with her friends, and Darius had been spotted in New York living with some family he had there. She still had nightly surveillance, but knowing that he’d move out of the state definitely calmed her nerves.

“Madiyson?” The heiress called as the sound of the front door caught her attention. When she didn’t receive a response she shrugged and figured she had her beats on. She quickly motioned with her coconut oil,slipped into some sweatpants, and pulled a sports bra over her head before a voice sent a chill down her spine. “You’ve been holding out on me Amani.”

Darius got up from his seat behind her on the bed and revealed the kitchen knife he was holding. “If I had known you could look like that, I would’ve made you work out more.”

“How the hell did you get in my house?”

“No Thank you? Darius frowned.

“What do I have to thank you for?”

“Giving you a second chance,” Darius smirked before lunging at the Okeke heiress. Amani, dodged his lunge as he ran into the dresser she was standing in front of. “ A second chance for what you bastard!” The heiress resisted the urge to search for her phone, she knew Darius, he watched her eyes always to anticipate her next move. “You ruined my life. You were supposed to be my wife, look pretty, give me kids. Instead your ass got me locked up for damn near life. Now my dad is all on my ass because he had to call in a favor with the DA and the governor in one sitting-”

“Well maybe your ass should’ve just stayed in jail then!” Amani ducked, expecting the lamp on the nightstand to fly towards her head. She took the moment she dodged the light fixture to locate her phone. It was too far and she knew that she’d never be able to reach it before Darius finished his spiel. She’d have to leave her friends a clue that something had gone wrong.

“Now,” Darius eyed Amani as she backed up against the wall, “as I was saying. Everyone is counting on me to not fuck up! Which means I need to get my old life back, starting with you Ms. Okeke, now heiress of the Okeke Industries Tech Conglomerate.”

“No one will ever believe that we are a happy couple once again Darius, they found me, clinging to life, hypothermic, and bleeding because you literally beat our child out of me. It was on the five o'clock news for weeks straight.” Amani risked eyeing her keys once more, hoping that the plan she was hatching would work.

“What better way to show them that I am a changed man, than by having you forgive me. A redeemed love, a true love,” Darius stepped up to Amani and caressed her cheeks and lips. The woman felt like crawling out of her skin but she held it together. “Why don’t you just find another woman?” Not that Amani wished Darius on any other woman, she’d prefer he’d be locked up in a cell, but she needed to get him to back up. “Does it really matter? I want you, and I’ve already invested a lot in you Amani. You got a little break to have fun and spend time with other men, but you are mine. You always were and you always will be, it’s time I got a return on my investment. “ Darius took a seat on Amani’s bed and she silently rejoiced.

“Okay, then what’s your plan?”

“You don’t need to know all of that. Just know that I’m not leaving you behind Amani.” Darius pointed the knife and Amani nodded, “I’m just gonna grab my keys,” she gestured. “If I go missing, the police will look at all of your father’s and friend’s properties, no one will think I was stupid enought to take you to one of our vacation homes.” At least the waitress hoped this wasn’t the stupidest idea she’d ever had.

“Nah, cause I’m sure your friends and man know all about those places. Not to mention your little sister.”

“Amare is out of the country at a science conference, won’t be home for two weeks, you’ll have time to move me before she can get back. As for the others, they don’t even know we own vacation properties.” Amani scoured through her keys and grabbed the one she knew her sister would recognize as missing first. “Here, we can go to the chateau in the mountains in North Carolina. It’s secluded. No one for miles around.”

Darius stood up, “Nah, there’s a reason you’re helping me. What is it?”

“You’re never gonna leave me alone otherwise. I don’t wanna die, and this is most likely the last time I’ll ever get a decision about something that happens to me. Think of it as my final words.” As soon as the excuse left her mouth Amani felt her mouth go dry and heavy, for some reason, it did feel like she’d sealed her own fate.

“Amani!” Madiyson called as she entered the apartment. Sakura followed in hot on her heels to place the heavy pizzas in the kitchen. “I still don’t know why you ordered four pizzas for 3 people,” Madiyson laughed, dropping all of her interior design sketches and renderings on the table. “As much of a perfectionist each of us is… We're gonna be here all night and y’all are gonna be glad I bought enough pizza.”

“Well if AMANI would BRING. HER. ASS. DOWN. THE. STAIRS we could get started and be done at a godly hour.” Madison yelled up the stairs into the continued silence. “You told her we were coming, right?”Sakura joined her friend at the base of Amani’s stairs and frowned. “Yeah, she said just let ourselves in.”

“Maybe she’s taking a nap, she’s been doing that more often than usual.”

“Oh god, if she’s taking a nap then she’ll be dead to the world right now. You wanna wake her up while I set up?” Madiyson shook her head and walked back over to the couch in the living room. “Sure, just throw me into the lion’s den. You know she hates being woken up by anyone but Amare and Ada.” Sakura whined. “You’ll be fine, she would never hate you. Just make it seem like she woke herself up. Throw a pillow or something.” Madiyson shrugged and opened her laptop.

“Always the sacrifice, never the beneficiary,” Sakura mumbled as she jogged up the stairs into Amani’s room. “Mani,” the afro-asian woman sang as she burst into the room, only to be greeted by a perfectly made bed. “Amani?'' She tried to calm her heartbeat as she checked her friend’s closet and bathroom. “Okay focus, details details,” Sakura chanted to herself. “7:47, no phone in the room, nothing messed up, somebody sat on the bed,” the waitress took note of the room as she backed her way out, down the stairs, and towards the garage. “Hey, did you- what’s wrong,” Madiyson frowned as her best friend opened the garage door and looked out. “Did she say she was gonna leave?” Sakura ignored Madiyson’s original question, feeling her stomach drop at the presence of Amani’s car, and the empty house. “No, she said she was gonna take a shower-”

“Madiyson, She’s not here.”

“Look, I already told you what happened. Madiyson called Amani at 6:30, she picked me up, we picked up the pizzas, let ourselves in, but she wasn’t here when i went to check on her. I went into the room at 7:47. The shower had been turned on and the room was steamy, and someone had sat on her bed but Amani hates that unless she’s about to go to sleep. Except she isn’t in her room sleeping!”

“Why are you all not taking this seriously! Her abusive ex is a known kidnapping threat. For God’s sake she’s had a 24/7 patrol for months because there was fear he would try to retaliate! Now that she’s missing, y’all aren’t doing a damn thing.” Madiyson butted in frustrated at the officers staring at them like they were aliens from outer space.

“Ma’am, we are just trying to get all the facts first-”

I’ve given them to you three times, if you can’t comprehend then we’ve got a bigger problem!” Sakura fumed and the officers stood. “We’ll call headquarters and see what we can do. Technically it has to be 48 hours before we can report and adult as missing-”

“Just get out please,” Madiyson sighed. She held open the door for the officers who hesitated, their feathers obviously ruffled.

“I’ll try calling Amare again.” Sakura stood and walked out after the officers left. Madiyson locked the door and stared up at the clock, realizing she should probably call T’Challa.

“Hello?” Madiyson breathed deeply as the call finally connected to the king, “T, she’s gone,” the woman’s voice warbled but her words shook the king all the same. “What do you mean she is gone?” He stood, immediately stumbling to slip on some shoes and race through the halls to his mother’s room. “Sakura and I came for a meeting, and she wasn’t here. Her car is here but she isn't and she assured us she’d be here taking a shower. Someone else was here because someone was sitting on her bed, at the bottom. You know she hates people ruffling her sheets.”

“Have you talked to Amare? Are you sure she didn’t take her to the airport?”

“We’ve been trying to reach her but she's still on the plane. She would have been back by now if she just went to the airport. She knew we were coming.” Madiyson broke, sobbing into the phone.

T’Challa’s heart dropped, his mind racing back to how he’d begged his lover not to go back until the rumors that her abuser had officially moved were confirmed. Now she was gone and the king felt he had failed to protect her. “Madiyson, Madiyson, I need you to breathe and keep breathing. Did you call the police?”

“Yes, but-“ Madiyson stumbled trying to regain her composure, “they said since it hasn’t been 48 hours it’s not technically a missing persons case.”

The king felt anger rush through his veins, “So they aren’t doing anything?”

“Not really,” Madiyson moved to grab tissue from Amani’s bathroom. “Have her call the detectives over these two imbeciles. She was on 24 hour surveillance due to risk of revenge from her abuser. Them sitting around doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know, I know, I’m heading downstairs right now-” Madison paused as she noticed Amani’s keys on her vanity. “Wait, one of her keys-” Madison trailed off flipping through the keys. “One of her keys is what?” T’Challa knocked on his mother’s door. “It’s missing. When her parents died, she kept keys to all of their properties. With them all labeled with numbers but I don’t know which one is which. Just number three is missing,” Madison ran a hand over her braids and huffed. T’Challa banged on his mother’s door again before taking a step back and pacing the hall. “Okay, You and Sakura just stay there, keep trying to reach Amare. I’m on my way and I’ll try to reach Shuri. See if you can figure out what key is missing.”

“Okay, call us when you land.”

T’Challa hung up the phone, “Umama!” He banged on the door before Ramonda yanked it open. “T’Challa, what in Bast’s name-”

“It’s Amani, she’s missing. We have to go now, can you try to reach Shuri? Her friends think they have a lead but we need to reach Amare.”

“How long has she been missing?” The queen mother rushed back in her room and started to get dressed and pack a bag. “We don’t know, I just got off the phone with Madiyson. They went to the house and she was missing.”

“Did they call the police?”

“They say they can’t report her absence until 48 hours has passed,” T’Challa opened his beads and messaged Okoye. I need you, Ayo, a plane, and five of your best warriors. Meet me on the tarmac in 30.”

“When do we leave?”

“In 30 minutes, I have to pack a bag. Ayo and Okoye will meet us at the tarmac with some back up, can you please try to reach Shuri while I get ready?”

“Yes, I will try calling her.”

The king nodded and turned to rush back to his room. “T’Challa,” Ramonda called out,”We will find her. She will be alright.” He offered his mother a sad smile before continuing down the hall.

“It’s the North Carolina key?”

“Yes. Number 3 it's her favorite number for her favorite house.” Amare insisted as Sakura flipped through the keys again.

“Do you know the address?” Madison interrupted.upiui

“Uh, number 3 Lodge Street Asheville, North Carolina.”

“And you’re sure that is the key that is missing?” T’Challa interrupted Madiyson and Amare. The teen looked at the king through the camera, the lights of the quinjet humming behind her as Shuri watched on. “Yes, I’m positive. Amani is heading to the North Carolina house.”

The king hit the table and turned to his guard, “We are heading to North Carolina. Now.”

“We’ll meet you there-”

“No,” T’Challa and his mother answered at the same time.``You two stay exactly where you are,'' Ramonda demanded. “All due respect, I am not staying over here in Germany when my sister has been kidnapped by her abuser!” Amare rebutted. “Yes, but for all we know he has men looking for you too. As well as Madiyson and Sakura. So until then, at least we know where you are. We are sending Dora Milaje to your hotel.” T’Challa finalized.

“No, I am not standing back when my sister is in danger. I wasn’t there the first time she was saved and opened her eyes, I want to be there this time.” Amare demanded while she teared up and T’Challa sighed. He walked around the desk to look at Okoye and his mother. “You all can head back to Wakanda, once the extra Dora arrive. Once we have her, we’ll bring her back to Shuri’s lab, there you guys can see her.” The king looked at everyone in the room, “Besides, I don’t think it is safe for any of you to be in the US alone right now.”

“So what are you saying?” Sakura sat up from her place on the couch. T’Challa nodded at the general of the Dora Milaje. Okoye tapped her staff and escorted the rest of the warriors out of the home. Once the door had shut the room turned to face T’Challa again. “I have been thinking, especially in light of what has happened to Amani, that you all should move to Wakanda. Stay in the palace of course. I know you two would have to travel for business and Amare we’d have to figure out your schooling, but it is obvious that this government has no vestment in keeping you all safe. I can do something about it and I will, if you all will let me.”

“I don’t know T-” Madiyson started.

“I had been thinking about transferring to study with Shuri, but I don’t know how Amani would take it.” Amare added. “She’s not just gonna give up her independence. She just got it back from Darius,” Sakura added. “I know but it is not safe here, at least for now. As well connected as that fugitive is, who knows what will happen to you all if he goes back to jail. I let Amani convince me she would be safe, and now two months later we are searching for her praying to Bast that she isn’t dead.”

“T’Challa this is not your fault,” Sakura interjected. “I know, but if I can keep you all safe, I have a responsibility to do so. You will have free will and autonomy, but at least inside Wakanda’s borders, I can guarantee your safety.

“I think this is a lovely conversation, but might I remind you all that this is a time sensitive case. Let’s table this discussion until we all make it back to Wakanda” Shuri interrupted the discussion that seemed to be heading towards an endless round table. “Shuri is right, time is of the essence.” Ramonda spoke standing, “everyone comes back to wakanda for the time being. Once we rescue Amani, we send our war dogs to clear any suspicions and make sure it is safe for you all to return. Then we make a decision. Until then-“

“We focus on the task at hand.” Madiyson finished and Ramonda agreed. “Shuri and Amare head back home once the Dora arrive. When we have Amani we’ll let you know.”

“Keep my sister safe T’Challa,” Amare asserted before hanging up. “She’s just nervous,” Sakura reassured. “We are all glad we have someone here to help us this time. But we should get on the road. Darius works fast.” The Afro-Asian waitress added solemnly. The king nodded, “Phambile,” he called and the guards opened the doors escorting everyone to the cars waiting to race to the airport.”

Fourteen Hours Ago

“Amani.” The heiress fumbled to wrap the stick back it s package and hide it on the sink before running out of her bathroom. “Hey,” she offered her younger sister a smile but only received a confused face in return. “Hey, you’re up early, I thought you’d be sleep,” Amare took a seat in one of the overstuffed arm chairs in her sisters bedroom. “I wasn’t feeling well. I got up to take some medicine no biggie,”Amani shrugged. “You go to the doctor again soon right? You should have her check it out.”

“She’s an OBGYN, but I’ll see what she might be able to recommend.”

“Cool, well I’d been thinking-“

“Oh that’s never good,” the heiress laughed as her sister shot daggers her way. “As I was saying. I’ve been thinking about transferring to study in Wakanda with Shuri. It’d make it easier for you to come see Tchalla and I could get accustomed to the culture before we move there-“

“Hey hey, who said we we’re moving to Wakanda?”

“Amani. I’m not dumb or a little girl anymore. I know how marriages and relationships work. I know you live tchalla. I know he loves you. And I know how monarchies work. I also know that T’Challa has asked you to move in or visit more often and that I’m probably the reason you’re hesitant about doing either.”

“You’re right, but I didn’t say anything cause I don’t want you thinking you have to move because of me and T’Challa. I want you to follow your dreams, and dtudying at MIT was one of those dreams.”

“And dreams change, Amare reminded. I used to any to be a ballerina, astronaut, actress, and hear I am studying at MIT. And now, I know that the university of Wakanda can offer me so much more. Plus I’ll get to spend more time with my best friend and take advantage of her lab. It’s a win win!” The young genius insisted. Amani sighed and settled on the chair next to her.

“How about we finish out this fall semester and pick up the conversation over Christmas break. I just don’t want you to regret anything.” The older sister explained.

“That’s fair.” Amare nodded and stood. “Back to you though, are you sure you’re feeling well enough for me to leave?”

“Now you sound like the older sister. I’ll be fine kid, you go have fun at your conference thing in Germany. Have you finished packing?”

“Nope, I wanted to get and early start at the stores so I can pack before my flight.”

“Okay, I’m headed back to sleep. But don’t crash the car and fill up the tank before you come back please.”

“I always do,” Amare smiled before kissing her sister's cheek and slipping out of the room. Once Amani heard the front door shut. She locked herself in the bathroom and unwrapped the third and final test. She sat them all in a row before flopping down on the toilet.

“Shit.”

Taglist: @almostpurelysmut @blackbypurpose @tchoking @sisterwifeudaku @wikiwakanda @royallyprincesslilly @90sinspiredgirl @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @purple-apricots @kumkaniudaku @queertrex @kaciidubs @halfrican-heat @skysynclair19 @dramaqueenamby @leahnicole1219 @kreolemami @mzbritt @derangedcupcake @chaneajoyyy @lalapalooza718 @ororowrites @leahnicole1219 @sarcastic-sunshines @sarahboseman @faatassbitch @lady-love-and-glitter-roses @cxnismajcr @tchallasbabymama

[obeymeluv]

The Bros and School Headcanons

I have other stuff in mind but this is something short I can put out for now.

It’s my headcanon on the types of school/college people the bros are. I guess you can consider it college AU?

Lucifer

The Type-A asshole everyone probably hates

Doesn’t originally start out that way, doesn’t mean for people to hate him. Soon LIVES for it. Seriously, it’s like his coffee.

Prideful AF. MUST be top of the class!

His motto: “Do it right, do it once.”

Runs on an insane amount of coffee and just as insane (read: little) amount of sleep

The type to remind the teacher about assignments that were due in class if it seems like they’re going to forget about it

Asks about extra credit on day one

If people ask repeat questions that were LITERALLY just answered, he gets pissy and silently suffers

Ends up a little sad and burnt out, wondering if the grade was worth skipping out on other opportunities

Says he’s not going to do it next semester, but gets addicted to that grade high

The “friends” he makes in class are usually fellow rivals and they have a hot and cold relationship that somehow works really well

When he drops the grade-chaser stuff, he’s actually really nice to be around. He has really deep, interesting conversations that are between philosophical and educational (you just have to pull his head out of his ass first)

Mammon

Some people wonder how he got into the class, some people wonder how he’s passing it

Mammon is the dude who looks like he doesn’t know about the subject but is an absolute FOUNTAIN of knowledge

Always has sunglasses on and has some kind of drink within arm’s reach. Usually a very big coffee with lots of espresso

Constant bedhead (even if he says he fixed his hair)

Tried sitting in the front row the first week, kept getting sleepy. Now sits in the back row towards the doors.

He’s either early or late. Never on time.

The one that brings a notebook and a pen to class. Nothing extra.

Usually falls asleep or cat naps. Says he learns through osmosis

This asshole is really good at auditory learning and gets by recording the lectures

Blows through exams like they’re nothing. He’s a good BS’er and gets C’s, minimum. Usually low B’s.

This guy laughs at the Type-A stresser’s and enjoys his minimum studying

Can be suckered into group studying fairly easily but most people won’t study with him because he turns study sessions into anything BUT studying

Knows people who know people. Could probably get his hands on old tests and stuff. If he can, it’ll cost you. A lot.

Levi

This poor baby has testing anxiety hella bad when it comes to subjects he’s not super interested in or that he’s already struggling in

If he likes the subject and feels confident in it, there’s no testing anxiety.

Also brings a drink to class. It’s an energy drink.

Always comes to class early and is usually in a pair of wireless headphones, browsing on his phone

A great visual learner.

His notes are written sloppily and kind of sporadically but they’re decently organized with notes in the margin and things like that

Doesn’t like asking questions out loud. Will either email the teacher, ask after class, or make a friend that isn’t afraid to ask them for him.

If he’s having a good day, he’ll try to make jokes that only make a few people laugh. It’s usually bad timing and he’s a little sad.

MUCH BETTER AT DRAGGING PEOPLE! It’s not something he thinks about. It just slips out! Before his face can overheat, he realizes people are laughing and he kind of basks in it for a while.

Has coordinated stationary; is probably animes he’s into or colors he likes

If he has a laptop, it’s absolutely smothered in stickers

The BEST guy to have a study session with. Something about being in a library or quiet area ramps up his focus and he’s like a second-hand teacher.

Very different from his in-class persona, but is often spot on with ‘If I were the teacher, I’d put this on the exam.’

Want to be friends? Comment on his merch. He’ll start a conversation if he sees a shirt/pin/bag/pencil or anything he likes. It helps if you offer Starbucks or snacks in exchange for being tutored

Satan

Takes pride in his grades but doesn’t go out of his way to make people hate him

Will casually drop his grades when asked, but won’t own up to being the top grade. Very vague (”I did okay. Just like I expected.”)

He more or less enjoys the satisfaction of seeing a good grade come back to him after all that studying

Prone to over-thinking

Probably the first one done, but he’ll do 2 or 3 look overs to check everything before turning it in

Low-key exhausts his professors with written assignments because he gives them a fucking book. It’s all technical and correct but, really, it was only supposed to be three pages!

The one that will yell at the obnoxious people interrupting lecture. Will throw things at them if they’re in reach.

Super protective of his books and class materials. Has a hoarding/scooping reflex when messy people spread out their stuff or unwrap food. The books are not to be desecrated!

If an obnoxious eater/drinker is beside him, he thinks about strangling them to the point where it distracts him from lecture

Usually reads ahead and works ahead

If he gets points off of something, he’ll want an explanation. If he feels the points were taken away unnecessarily, there will be words

If he gets too overstimulated with noises or just hits a point of being fed up, he’ll leave lecture

Rarely brings food or drink to class but can be found at the Starbucks on campus before class. Maybe after. Some days it’s both.

Best notes around. Very technical and perfectly organized. Not colorful or anything, but definitely the envy of people.

Sells his notes/study guides each semester for money

Asmo

That guy who can slide into any friend group

Socially sharp. Can tell who the most prepared are and has an instinct for who the strongest class partners will be

Makes friends with the TA’s before the professors.

Totally convinces that TA to give him hints about the upcoming exams

People either love him or hate him. Most people love him, some people hate them because they can’t be him.

Almost always has a drink and it’s rarely the same. Usually a healthy smoothie or one of the cute juice drinks from Starbucks.

The type to bring in outside food and pick at it while he listens to lecture. Tries to listen, anyways.

Really easily distracted. Gets bored with monotonous voices and HATES teachers who just read off of a powerpoint.

His notes are very colorful and aesthetic but may not be the most informative

Does his best to stay on top of assignments but usually has 2 or 3 big screw ups a semester

Somehow always gets his ass saved. Boy has good karma in stock

This is the guy that things ALWAYS seem to work out for, and they fall in his lap

Proposes cute/semi-extravagant study dates. They are rare and exclusive. Extended to a few choice people (no, it’s not to sucker anyone into giving him class notes.)

Aim’s for C’s because anything more is just a bonus. D’s and F’s are unacceptable.

Will drag a bad partner in a heartbeat. If they didn’t help in the group project, their name isn’t going on it.

Beel

Also one of the types that doesn’t look like he belongs, but he does

Is a fountain of random knowledge

Very strong memory, but not perfect. The type that needs a little push before the absolute WALL of information comes out.

Really strong test taker

Brings tons of snacks to class

Once brought a whole-ass meal to class. He ate it one-handed and took notes with the other.

The guy that somehow gets roped into favors by other people. It’s usually quick stuff and he’s good about setting boundaries to make time for himself and his studies

Want him to study with you? Mention about splitting a pizza or something.

Your hype man. Good guy to reassure you before tests if you get test anxiety

Sick and skip class? He’ll check in on you AND send copies of his notes

Doesn’t always get assignments in on time. Only late once or twice a semester. Either eats the point difference or convinces the teacher to give him an extension.

Will take you out for post-test fun errands

Belphie

Does he exist? You won’t find out until it’s time to take an exam.

Belphie does a lot of research before he signs up for a class. Would like to go 100% online but knows that isn’t realistic, so he combs teacher reviews to get nice, easygoing professors

Has a photographic memory, so all he really needs are the powerpoints and to check out reference copies of the textbooks from the libraries

Tries to take the same classes as his brothers so he can swipe the textbook for a bit

If his only option is a morning class, he DEFINITELY picks the same one as one of his bros to make sure he gets up and goes

More of a night owl

The one that’s addicted to caffeine, stays up all night, and somehow gets 7 assignments done. Has periods of intense focus then it’s back to not knowing what day it is. He just wants sleep.

Usually seen with Beel or Satan. Tends to show up at events with free food.

Loves finals week when they bring in dogs and pets.

Has wireless earbuds and is always listening to a podcast, Tedtalk, or something soothing

Catnaps through class. Even if he’s woken up from a dead sleep, he can answer whatever snarky question someone asked

Takes advantage of the meditation classes and alternative therapy walk-ins promoted by the Mental Health Clinic. He really likes guided meditation with singing bowls.

[ill-skillsgard]

Bred For Blood - Part 19 - Promise-Promise

Title: Bred For Blood

Warning: 18+ - sex/mature language & themes/gun violence/substance abuse etc. *mentions of coma/unconsciousness, injuries, and sex in this part*

Characters: AU Axel Cluney, AU Ivar Lothbrok, AU Valter x OC

Description: A bright, young survivor meets an acid-gun slinging headhunter with a knack for melting faces and connections to a prodigal Utopia embedded in the heart of a deadly forest. Violence and passion incite a battle of fealty while betrayal nips at Zed’s heels.

Note: Sooo many feelings in this part, you guys. Next part will be the finale! My gosh, it’s actually coming. Stick around because it’s gonna be a doozy! Much love to all the readers who’ve waited patiently and shout out to any new readers who’ve taken the time to let me know their thoughts. I appreciate all the comments and reblogs forever! With that being said, please comment and reblog. It’d really make my day. XO

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Zed waited for Vee next to the window overlooking the vast green ocean of vegetation. The sliver of sun painted the sky aflush, rolling west in shades of violet. Pinprick stars perforated the melting spectrum, and the phantom moon showed its impatient face fully before the horizon swallowed all light. It was a soothing array of scenery, and Zed rested her head on the glass until footsteps drew her attention to the door. She smiled as Vee came in carrying a plate of zucchini fritters and mashed chickpeas, returning the warm greeting silently.

"Hungry? Axel wasn't a fan. He wants a cheeseburger from McDonald's," said Vee, handing the platter to Zed.

She accepted the dish with a nod. "Did you tell him why that's not possible?"

Vee sighed. The dark beneath his eyes seemed permanent now. "I didn't get into detail. He wouldn't understand."

"Shouldn't we make him understand?"

"It's too soon. The big lug just woke up. It was a challenge just to get him to lie there. Soon he'll want to leave the lab, and I don't know how he'll fare around his adoring fans."

Zed bit into a greasy fritter and scooped a dollop of the paste with the leftover crescent. "He'll love the ego-boost, I'm sure."

"That's what I'm afraid of. All those people will confuse him. Who knows what that might do to his head. We're in a delicate situation."

"Axel seems to like me. Maybe I can convince him to stay put."

Vee grimaced from the thought of Axel working Zed over with his motoring mouth and crass sense of humour. The scientist had grown accustomed to nights alone with her, cooking together and discussing their future. The night they'd spent alone in the greenhouse rang in his heart; the night he admitted his feelings and begged her to squash them. The thought of her alone with Axel picked a scab he didn't know he had.

"You're worried about something," Zed said.

Vee snapped from his bittersweet reverie and sighed. "Am I ever not worrying?"

"True," Zed snorted. "Now, eat. I can't finish this all myself."

The pair finished the plate before Vee set the dish aside and motioned her to the sofa.

"We need to talk about what we found in Glott's notes. I know we can't test this theory, but we should treat it as the truth," said Vee.

"Okay, well, if that's how we're approaching this D negative blood sample... What's the next step? We have no medical supplies. I checked the med tent in the courtyard for the third time just for fun."

"Then we have to visit Glott and get some answers. And by we... I mean me."

"Valter—"

"I know you don't want me to leave, but what other option do we have? Every day we waste here is another step backward."

Zed shook her head until a thin braid dislodged from behind her ear and swung in her face. Vee resisted the urge to tuck it back. The girl's face swivelled toward the window, and she pondered and watched the premature stars twinkle across the bruised sky.

"We go together," Zed said firmly. "I won't budge on that."

"And what about Axel?"

"We wait until he's better. We'll need him to navigate the way."

"And if he never recovers?" Vee asked.

"Then we go anyway. All three of us. We get Axel better, and we go together."

Vee inhaled through his nose as Zed screwed her eyes into his. When he nodded, a smile unfurled across her face, shadowed by the last drops of brassy sunlight.

"I hate this plan, but I suppose it's all we have," said Vee.

"Promise we'll all stick together."

"Of course, Lea. I won't leave without you guys. Promise."

"Promise-promise?"

"I double promise with a cherry on top. Stick a needle in my eye and call it macaroni."

Zed stifled laughter beneath her palm. "I think you've been hanging out with Sam too much."

"That, or I'm just tired."

"I'll let you sleep now. You look beat."

Vee twisted his mouth in lopsided agreement. "Yeah, you're right. I'm gonna hit the shower first. Unless you want to?"

"No, you go ahead. I'll stay here a little longer," Zed said as she laid her temple against the cool glass and looked out over the forest floor, now drowning in the twilight.

~*~

In the morning, Zed left the apartment and padded down the hallway in her mismatched slippers. She slowed as she turned the corner and found the brothers talking. Axel's eyebrows were locked in a line, and Vee looked up at her with relief.

"Lea, can you help me explain to Axel why he can't leave the hospital room?"

Axel whipped the covers off his thighs. "This place is fuckin' weird, and I know you're lying to me. That doctor you had in here is a whack-job. Something isn't adding up."

"Stay put," Vee commanded.

Zed rubbed the sleep from her eyes and prepared to take both sides with a long breath. "Axel, your brother is right. You can't leave yet. Just stay a little longer and heal."

"Where the fuck am I, Vee? This isn't like any hospital I've ever been to. And why can't I use the phone to call mom and dad?"

Axel's question erased all the sleep Vee had gotten the night before. His fatigue was contagious. Zed approached the bed and brushed Axel's shoulder. The touch diffused the tension in his upper body and opened him up to a new explanation, one that hadn't come from his kid brother's mouth.

"There are no phones here, Axel. You're right... This place is different. We're missing a lot of things you’d consider normal."

"Look, darlin', I know you're just trying to make me feel better, but none of what you're saying makes any sense. What do you mean there's no phone? There's electricity, isn't there? So why can't I hobble my way to a pay phone or borrow someone's cell?"

Vee and Zed exchanged pained looks. The younger brother kneaded his brow and offered Axel the same explanation he had before, reworded. Axel refused to believe a word and scrambled off the gurney, throwing Vee's hands off him as he limped a few steps and realized his mistake.

"What the fuck is wrong with my foot? Did someone sliced my ankle in half? What is happening to me? I feel like I'm on an acid trip that never ends. I go to sleep and see crazy shit, only to wake up in an even crazier place where there're no phones and no fucking food! You're talking in goddamn riddles, Vee. The least you can do is get me a Baconator for my trouble! I can't walk—I can't even jerk off 'cause my good hand is fucked. You gotta help me out."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Axe? There are no restaurants!"

"Bullshit! Sweetheart, come on, you can help me, right? Can you please just grab me something greasy? I'll pay you back, I promise. I'm good for it."

"I wish I could help you, Axel, but Vee's right. There's nowhere to get stuff like that anymore."

"Anymore? What does that even mean? You guys are talking like I slept through the apocalypse or something!"

Zed turned to Vee, who blocked the way to the courtyard. "Come on, Axe. Just settle down, and get back into bed."

"Are you gonna find me some painkillers then?" Axel faltered toward the bed and hoisted himself onto the flat mattress with his right arm.

"I'll see what I can do, buddy, but will you promise to stay here for a little longer?"

"Whatever," Axel scoffed. "What else am I gonna do?"

Zed waited until Axel slid back under the covers and tilted his face away from them both to assess Vee's mood. She suspected Axel's recovery would be difficult. Still, when she pictured him with his eyes open again, she heard laughter and saw game nights, shared wine and inside jokes knitting them closer together—not disarray and a friend who'd forgotten her. And if Vee had left the day he championed himself, Axel wouldn't have any flagship of his past. The scientist's presence tranquillized her despite Axel's rotten mood fouling the atmosphere.

"You're hungry, Axel?" Zed asked.

"Starving."

"I'll try to track down something tasty to eat. It won't be a greasy burger, but maybe I can find you something close to fries. I'll make it myself if I have to."

Axel flipped his eyes to the girl standing with her arms knotted behind her back and smiled. "Oh, darlin'...You're a sweet thing. I'd hate to ask, so I'll just accept the offer. Or maybe Vee can go, and you and I can chat a little more?"

Zed chuckled at the man's slyness. "I have some other things to do. We’ll talk when I get back."

"Don't rush for me, honey, but if you do, I'll take it as a good sign," Axel said with a wink.

At the cost of one of her knit blankets, Zed found someone in Athena to chop and bake a sweet potato in peanut oil. She bartered for garlic and salt to sprinkle on the dish. The redheaded child spotted her making transactions and stopped her at the mouth of the Hives with a cloth of fermented cashew cheese and a large chunk of bread that sat out overnight but was still soft. She offered the foodstuffs to Axel on a thin wood slab, and he accepted with an obsequious grin. He relinquished his dissatisfaction and warmed next to Zed.

"Aw, darlin', look at you go. How can I thank you for your trouble?" Axel asked as he chomped a crispy strand of sweet potato.

Zed stepped back from his bed, blushing. "It's okay, Axel. You don't have to do anything but get better."

"Will you stay with me for a while? If I have to stay in bed, it'd really make my life easier if I have someone to talk to. That is if you don't mind my chattiness."

"Sure. Let me grab a chair from the apartment," said Zed.

Axel finished his meal quickly, and as if he hadn't eaten at all, felt the pang of hunger moments after the last bite of bread. His appetite woke up ravenous, and no amount of homegrown food could satiate the growl.

"I might need to eat again in an hour," Axel informed as Zed dragged the chair across the floor. “I’m a big boy, you know.”

"That's fine. I'll find you something in a little while ."

The injured man nodded and sighed, eyelashes fluttering over tired green eyes. A bloated silence proceeded, and Zed wondered how to initiate a conversation. Vee told her not to confuse Axel with present-day news, but all she wanted to do was ask about Richard Glott's underground bunker and with who he'd crossed paths that left him slashed and maimed.

After a couple of deep breaths, Axel murmured, "I see you in my dreams every time I fall asleep. Is that strange?"

Zed hid her shy smile behind her palm. "Oh, stop."

Axel shimmied his torso higher on the bed and frowned in pain. "No, seriously. Not trying to be slick, honey. I see the most fucked up things when I sleep. You know the kind of dreams so vivid, you wake up and your heart’s pounding, thinking it's all real for a minute? Then you're like... No way."

Zed shifted closer to Axel's bed. "What do you dream about?"

Axel smiled to himself. "You, mostly... Us. You and me doing crazy shit together. Sometimes I'm in the desert, and I see this airplane in the distance. It's on the ground, and I ride toward it, you know, you're not gonna ignore a crashed plane, right? Then I find you there, but these guys are hurting you, and you're going nuts trying to shake 'em, but there's too many, so I shoot 'em all, and they melt like popsicles. You stab one good, though."

"What else?" Zed asked.

"I dunno... Sometimes it's just me and you cruising through the desert, and I get the feeling you hate me, but I kinda like it. I'm happy you're there, even though we're in the middle of nowhere, and I have no idea what's gonna happen next."

"Sounds like some pretty weird dreams."

"They're so lucid. It's like a movie, and I'm the main character, and you're... Well, you. Like my cool sidekick."

"Sidekick, huh?" Zed scoffed.

"Yeah, you have this air about you that's like not to be fucked with. Then things always get real dark. I don't even want to tell you about it 'cause you'll think I'm fucked in the head."

Zed knew this part of the story and lowered her eyes to the floor. "It's okay. You can tell me if you want. It's just dreams, right?"

"Nah, I'll just leave it at that. It's not sex stuff or anything if you're wondering."

"Your dreams are more entertaining than anything I have going on today."

With Zed's green light, Axel inhaled deeply before launching into the story of their past. Before he uttered another syllable, a severed connection sparked in his head. His eyes grew large, and he looked around the makeshift hospital room, awestruck.

"In my dreams, we're trying to get to Vee. He needs us for some reason."

"What does he need?"

"Some science shit, which makes total sense because he's a scientist. He's actually a scientist, and not just in my dreams."

"Axel... These dreams you've had... Do you think they have significance?" Zed asked carefully.

"Totally. They have to. Right? Or am I fucking crazy?"

"You're not crazy, Axel. I promise."

"But what if I am? This place... I get such a bad feeling when I'm awake in this room by myself. Vee won't tell me where we are. It's like he's hiding something, and he never lies to me about anything. We don't do that."

"Vee just wants you to get better. He's under a lot of stress, and your recovery is a big part of that. We didn't think—he didn't think you'd make it through. Another complication is the last thing you guys need."

Axel went quiet again and fixated on the dust motes and bolts of lightning crackling up his leg. A storm grew behind his eyes, the same torrents Zed saw when she tried to stop him from leaving Kinderfeld and her behind. Sickened by the thought of Axel sneaking off, she touched his arm and offered a warm smile.

"Talk to me, Axel. Please. Don't keep anything inside."

Axel glanced at her small hand on his tattooed bicep and the lightning in his body faded.

"We were friends in a past life," Axel claimed.

"We're friends in this life."

"Can I tell you one other thing, then I promise I'll stop talking about my bonkers dreams?"

"Yes. I don't mind at all."

Axel curled his bicep and touched Zed's fingers, feeling the motion out until she grasped his hand.

"I think I have to take you somewhere."

"Oh, yeah?" Zed giggled. "And where's that?"

Axel blushed for the first time and brought her hand to hold next to him on the bed. "Not like on a date or anything. I just get this feeling that I'm supposed to protect you, even though you seem capable of looking after yourself just fine. This dream voice keeps reminding me to stay with you and Vee... Like I'm not allowed to let either of you out of my sight. Especially not you."

"Then don't," Zed said.

He squeezed her fingers gently. "I won't."

~*~

Word of Axel's consciousness seeped out of the lab and into the village. Nobody knew who had made the discovery—Vee blamed Samson while Zed suspected Nalani, who'd waltzed by the lab doors at a suspiciously slow pace several times each day—and leaked the information. They barred visitors and only allowed the doctor in to help change Axel's bandages until Ivar arrived.

Axel was alone, humming a tune from his teenage years when the king came through the doors and stopped to stare at his bed-ridden friend.

"Zee, you're awake? And no one thought to tell me?"

"Sorry, hombre, but I think you have the wrong room. Name's Axel."

Ivar flashed all his sharp teeth in a sly smile and wagged his finger. "Always a joker."

"No, really," Axel chuckled, then went deadpan. "Wait... Who are you?"

Before Ivar spoke, Vee walked into the lab and froze when he saw Ivar standing a few feet from Axel's bed.

"Ivar. I wasn't expecting you."

The king sneered and motioned toward Axel. "What's with this guy?"

"Hey, maybe we can talk for a second?" Vee invited Ivar down the hall, out of earshot.

Ivar glared at the scientist. "When exactly were you planning on telling me he woke up?"

"That's the thing, Ivar. You don't understand... Axel's suffering from amnesia. It's common for coma patients to lose parts of their memory. Right now, he's in a very touchy state. He has no idea where he is, who you are, or what any of this is. I've tried to keep people away from him to avoid confusion, but now everybody knows. It's not good for him. Subjecting him to all this new information can cause anxiety, panic... Who knows. We're trying to ease him back into life."

"What do you mean he doesn't know who I am? I'm his best friend."

"Trust me. Axel doesn't even remember serving in the army."

"That's crazy. We should tell him—"

"No. It's too big of a shock. Axel's already gone through hell. Imagine trying to explain our world to somebody who has virtually no idea what's happened in the last couple of years."

Ivar pondered and didn't respond to Vee's relief, then sighed as though he accepted the explanation.

"So what does this mean for you? I assume you're retracting your claim and staying in Kinderfeld?"

Vee twisted his mouth to the side. "How can I go now?"

"You volunteered."

"That was before Axel came home. He needs me. I'm the only person he recognizes. Give me some more time with him, get him back on his feet and see if he'll start remembering, then I'll go."

Ivar crossed his arms across his burly chest. "Who knows how long that might take?"

"Would you leave someone you loved in that state?"

"I'd do what's for the greater good."

"He's your best friend. He's my brother. Axel needs us right now, Ivar. Think of all he's done for us. We owe it to take care of him until he's fit to at least walk again. I need him to remember what happened so I can get a better idea of what's going on outside."

"I suppose you're right," Ivar conceded. "You can't go out blind by yourself."

"Yes, you're right," Vee said with great relief.

"So what now? I can't talk to him?"

"You can speak to him if you like, but try not to bring up things that might confuse him. Don't talk about the army or mention recent times."

Ivar looked over his shoulder at the apartment's open door and heard the muted humming of a girl filtering through the corridor.

"And how's Lea taking all of this?"

Vee stiffened. "She's helping out."

"Axel has no idea who she is? He really doesn't know what's happened?"

"Not that I can tell. He keeps asking for cheeseburgers and to call our parents."

"Wow," Ivar whispered.

"Yeah, it's hard."

Ivar went quiet, distant, and shook his head slowly before inhaling through his nose and squeezing Vee's shoulder. "I trust you, brother. Maybe we'll talk more about your expedition in a few days when things have a chance to settle with Axel."

"You got it."

Axel pretended he wasn't trying to listen to the conversation between his brother and the brown-haired man with the striking blue eyes when the pair returned. Ivar nodded at Axel, his eyes awash with sympathy for the indisposed man.

"How are you feeling, Axel?"

"A little on the shitty side, my man. Not gonna lie. Hands busted, foot's bum... Can't fuck my way to a decent meal in this place, and everyone's tiptoeing around like I'm a sleeping baby. Gotta say I've had better days."

"Well, I hope you heal up quick. There are a lot of people who want to see you."

A coy smirk unfurled over Axel's face. "Yeah, I kinda get that impression. Sometimes, I see people looking in through those doors. I feel like a panda at a zoo. Everyone wants a peek at little ol’ Axel, huh?"

"Is there anything I can get you?"

"Cheeseburger?" Axel asked hopefully.

"Would if I could, friend."

"Goddamn it," Axel lamented.

Vee widened his eyes when Ivar looked at him, confirming what they'd discussed in the hallway.

"Say, how do you stay so beefy if there's no meat in this place?" Axel asked Ivar.

"I get my protein where I can. Try to stay fit. I'll get someone to bring you something good to eat."

Axel snorted. "Yeah, that's what that sweet-lookin' one said, but everything tastes like tree bark. No offence to her. She tried her best, and I'd never insult a lady's cooking to her face."

Ivar sucked in his bottom lip and nodded. "Well, I'll see what I can do for you, Axel. Get better soon."

Vee held his breath until Ivar left the lab and shrunk once the doors closed.

"You sure have a way with words, don't you?"

"Everyone who walks in here acts like they know me."

"We might have to move you to the apartment. Put a cap on your visitors."

"Who was that?" Axel asked.

"That's Ivar Lothbrok. He kinda runs things, in a sense."

"Nice guy."

Vee scoffed. "Yeah. Nice."

An itch stuck in the back of Axel's head, and he grew quiet once again, trying to unravel the mystery he'd woken up inside. He was a figure in a snow globe, a permanent fixture in a landscape rife with faces he'd seen in dreams. Sitting up in his bed, Axel wondered what laid beyond the confines of his glasshouse. Never one to follow the rules, even under the firm guidance of his smart younger brother, Axel decided once everyone fell asleep, he'd find himself a walking post and go exploring.

~*~

Zed woke to the sound of Vee's soft snoring coming through the open door of his bedroom. The possibility of sleep retracted with every second she spent staring at the smooth, globular ceiling in the dark, trying to make shapes out of the dream residue behind her eyelids. The sofa stiffened her back, and she twisted her spine until air bubbles popped and her muscles strained from the motion. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut for a few minutes, but Axel's stories followed her from sleep, brushing up on her with sharp quills. Since Axel painted his dream world, she hadn't stopped thinking of him and mourning the loss of his memory for the both of them. Axel didn't know his missing pieces were dancing under his eyes each time he slumbered, and she longed to stitch them together to create the full picture.

She squinted into the darkness, fatigue long since faded, and left the apartment. Light on her bare feet, Zed padded down the hallway and turned the corner to find an empty bed. Her heart twinged from Axel's absence. She considered going back to the apartment to tell Vee his brother was missing but found herself propelled to seek Axel out herself. There was nowhere in the lab a man of Axel's stature could hide, so she went out to the courtyard to begin her search. The floodlights cast pyramids of light over the foothills but revealed nothing but stone paths and glittering grass ranks. She started left first, then changed her mind and shot right toward the warehouse. Zed minded her steps as she picked up a jog, extending her legs to clear the roiling yards until she reached the square entrance of the warehouse. A guard leaned against the steel wall next to the exit, blinking and wiping a hand over his face to rouse himself. He saw Zed across the cement expanse and stood up straight.

"What're you doing out here?" The guard's voice clattered through the chamber.

"Sorry," Zed said, casting a thorough glance around before retreating into the light and shadow of the courtyard again. She rushed to the Hives, taking quick strides to reach her abandoned apartment before anyone else noticed her. After a quick knock, Zed opened the door to find her former living quarters as deserted as ever. Nobody had claimed the space in her absence, nor was Axel's adjoining apartment occupied. Both rooms were empty.

Zed's search for Axel continued and grew in urgency with each lonely cove and space she found. As she made her way around the central dome where the courtyard bordered the largest hill, she stopped at the mouth of the Chrysalis and addressed the men standing guard.

"Have either of you seen someone limping through here?"

"Nobody's come 'round here, Zed. Who're you looking for?"

Zed cocked her head. "Who do you think?"

"You mean Zee?" The man on the right asked. "Thought he was paralyzed."

"So it's true? He's awake?"

"Please don't tell anyone. Not yet."

The bearded guard rose a dark eyebrow at Zed. He was one of Ivar's highest-ranking patrol. Zed recognized him from the night they'd brought in the Zeronaut captain, Monk. He often stood by wherever Ivar went and didn't talk much unless addressed. "Ivar know about this?"

"I don't know what Ivar knows. Vee communicates with him, but we're trying to keep this from the general public."

"What do you think, Fen? Should we tell Ivar?" The scrawny, clean-shaven guard asked.

Fen sneered and told his partner to close his mouth before angling his torso toward Zed. "We'll keep an eye out, petite fleur."

Zed nodded and continued on her way, but there were few more spots Axel could hide unless someone had intercepted him and invited him into their hovel. She thought of Nalani, who often wandered the courtyard at odd hours and Trinity, who adored Axel and might jump at the opportunity to lead him to a private alcove. The two of them shared living space in Athena. Zed wanted to keep the search party light, and asking around would only spread curiosity like wildfire.

She continued touring the courtyard, her naked soles sore from hurried walking. Finally, she stopped at the greenhouse gate, its series of coiling iron bars and metal flowers welded to the columns in intricate clusters. Zed lifted the latch and pushed the gate open, taking care to shut it quietly. The greenhouse where the citizens grew aloe and berries was the little-known getaway spot Axel and Vee coveted as their private paradise. Zed zigzagged through the raised beds, taking care not to trip over the irrigation hoses and climbed the wooden steps at the back of the third square house. Around another corner and through the thick blackberry bushes nestled in rectangles of sodden earth, Zed rushed to the spot under the sky where the light poured in but found nothing.

"Shit," she whispered, out of breath and reeling in the thick, tepid air.

Zed looked up to the cloudless velveteen sky, crushing disappointment wringing her heart. In a throng of shadow off to the right, a figure shifted and startled the woman backward.

A tired voice called her name.

The shady form lengthened, struggling to stand. Once it stood at its full height, the vice pressing Zed's chest disappeared. Axel hobbled into view, using the overhead pipes to help himself along.

"Axel! There you are. Oh my God, you had me so worried. Why did you leave the lab?"

"The lab? Is that where you've been keeping me?"

Zed clapped her palm over her mouth. Axel gave an elongated nod, eyes wide and accusatory.

"Is that what I am? Some kind of experiment?"

"No, Axel—"

"What are you and Vee doing? Tell me why he's keeping me locked up. Tell me where the fuck I am, Lea. Please. This place... Something about it seems wrong. It scares me."

Axel wilted against a plant bed as Zed approached and caught his elbow to keep him upright.

"Axel, don't be scared. Please, I promise you're safe. We're not trying to keep you captive. This is all difficult to explain, and you were asleep for so long parts of your memory are missing. Vee's only trying to make it easier for you to cope."

"Cope with what, Lea? Cope with the fact I'm a prisoner? That I can't sleep because my nightmares are so vivid, I feel like I'm dying? That people watch me like some sideshow freak?"

"Everything," Zed sighed. "The new world. How can we explain all this to someone who woke up in the past?"

Axel looked up through the skylights and whimpered. "Something terrible has happened, hasn't it?"

Zed, wounded from the dejection in her friend's voice, led Axel to sit on the floor, then sat next to him and draped her arms over his shoulders, resting her cheek on the thin cotton shoulder strap of his tank top.

"I wish I could say you're wrong, but I can't lie to you, Axe."

"My instincts were right. Something is very wrong. After that Ivar fella came through, I started getting this feeling you all weren't telling me something on purpose."

"Don't be angry with us, Axel. We didn't know how to tell you."

Axel leaned his head on Zed's and sought her hand to hold. She slid her fingers through his and gripped tightly. "It's okay. I get it now. I'm supposed to be here. You and me... We're meant to be together. Otherwise... Why would I see you every time I close my eyes?"

"Axel," Zed whispered. "I missed you so much when you left. I thought I'd never see you again. Now everything is different."

"I'm sorry. If I hurt you back then... I didn't mean it."

"Just don't leave me again. Please. I can't fool myself into happiness without you in my life."

"I won't leave. I can't."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Lea."

"Promise-promise?"

Axel chuckled and kissed the top of Zed's head before laying his cheek on the ruts of her braids. "Yeah. I promise-promise."

~*~

Axel and Zed laid on the floorboards and watched the stars twinkling above while the chamber filled with water vapour, obscuring the glass until the condensation evaporated. When the infinite black sky lightened to meteorite violet, Axel used Zed as a crutch to stand up. He stole a fistful of blackberries, stuffing the fruits in his mouth and mashing them until inky juice seeped from the corners of his lips. He complained about his ankle, which he'd suffered walking on during his solo excursion to the greenhouses. Zed berated him for wandering off and helped him down the steps and through the rows of potato plants, arms locked, their pace slow to accommodate Axel's injury.

A murmur greeted the pair as they approached the iron gate. A dozen villagers gathered around the entrance to witness Axel emerge with smiles on their faces. Frozen from the elated faces beaming at him, Axel pulled on Zed's arm, alerting her to the hoard of onlookers.

"Who are they?" Axel asked.

"Zee! Happy you're awake!"

"What happened to your arm, Zee? Are you okay?"

"He looks terrible."

Zed opened the gate, and the crowd dented but didn't part. "Make room, please!"

"We want to talk to Zee!"

Axel then realized the group addressed him, their wide eyes drinking in his bruised and broken state with smiles unfitting his poor condition. An overwhelming sense of worry touched his skin, and he grabbed for Zed to lead him, but they huddled around the gate until a tall head of blond hair sliced the crowd in half. Vee shouldered past, his eyes hooded and brow furrowed.

"Axel! Lea! What the hell are you doing out here? Lea, did you let him out?"

Zed frowned and drew her shoulders up. "Of course not! I'm the one who came looking for him."

"Let's go. Come on, now. Everyone make way. Go back home!" Vee barked.

"We want answers! What's happening outside the walls?"

"We'll answer your questions later," Vee said disdainfully. "Lea, help me get him back."

The trio staggered to the lab, breathless from the trek over the bowing foothills. Vee waited until they were behind closed doors to deliver a speech about how irresponsible and defiant Axel was, how his behaviour might cause unwanted ripples where the scientist required placidity. Axel hoisted himself into bed and accepted his lecture, sullen and quiet, occasionally glancing at Zed, who also wrung her wrists.

"I told you not to leave the room, Axe. Why? Why can't you listen to me for once in your goddamn life?" Vee asked.

"You're not my mommy, Valter. I can do what I want, and frankly, I don't appreciate you keeping secrets from me!"

"What are you on about?"

"Oh, don't play dumb. You've lied to me this whole time! About where we are, what's happened to me. I think you know much more than you lead on."

Vee scoffed and looked to Zed for reassurance. The girl stood still with her shoulders hunched.

"Lea, help me out here."

"Well, Vee... Maybe it's time we tell him everything. There's no use hiding the truth anymore. He already knows something's wrong."

"Yeah!" Axel cried. "I'm done sitting around twiddling my thumbs. You have to tell me what's up. How did I get like this? What the fuck happened to me, and why can't I remember anything? I don't know how I got here or who all those people are out there."

"That's the thing, Axe... We don't know what happened to you. You left, and when you came back, you were unconscious and hurt. We don't leave this place, so I can't tell you anything more than that. I didn't know if you'd wake up and certainly didn't know you'd have amnesia when you did."

Axel turned to Zed for verification, and she nodded her head regretfully.

"It's true, Axel. I wish we could tell you more."

"Then at least tell me where I am. Start there," Axel demanded.

Vee and Zed stood speechless for a moment until she sighed deeply. "Vee, maybe we should give him the postcards and his journals."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're right, Lea. Go get the box. Tonight's gonna be a long one."

Zed hauled the box of postcards and dog-eared journals into the lab and hefted it onto the foot of Axel's bed. Vee unpinned the postcards from the corkboard and offered them to Axel with a pinched smile. Zed sat in her chair while Vee laid on the floor, a long arm slung over his eyes as Axel began to read aloud from his workbooks. The three of them listened to the stories Axel had penned years before while he was in the infantry as if none of them had heard the tales. From time to time, Axel stopped narrating and glided over the lines, taking in details he should have known, but couldn't place. During these silences, Zed and Vee would look up at him to assess his emotions, whether or not the words shifted the pieces into place or made any difference at all.

Axel took in a strained breath. "Ivar and I aren't talking. He wants to be the leader on this ship, and if things don't go his way, he turns into a giant douche-nozzle," he broke into giggling at his insult. "I haven't eaten in three days, and the water supply is low. We're down to a cup a day each. It's not enough, but it's gotten us through so far. One of the guys got sick, and they've taken him below deck. He throws up constantly even though there's nothing in his gut and howls all night in agony. I swear to God I'll shoot him in the head tomorrow if he doesn't let us sleep tonight. Someone needs to put him out of his misery."

Zed grimaced, and Vee stared at the ceiling with dry eyes, unflinching from the story.

"Day six... I now know what rat meat tastes like."

"Oh, god. Ew," Zed mumbled.

Axel continued without pause. "It's not that bad when you haven't eaten in almost a week. I've set up more traps in the galley to catch the rest. If Ivar plays his cards right, I might share my rats with him, but he's still a stuck-up twat.

I'm not sure how the rats are surviving. Maybe there's food still hidden somewhere on the ship. Maybe they're eating each other."

"This must have been when you were on your way back to America...Or... Whatever you want to call this half of the world now," Vee said.

"What do you mean?" Asked Axel.

"The Unity... The government... They abolished the borders, erased the country names and burned the history books. The states became part of the North-Western Hemisphere. Same with Canada and all that. No countries. No names."

Axel seemed to accept his brother's explanation that nothing would ever be as before. The commune in which he now resided was the only tangible place left in existence. Outside the walls lay sites changed from war, stripped of home and heritage. A tightness in Axel's neck prevented him from speaking until the revelations grew too heavy for him to bear.

"What happened to everyone else?" Axel asked.

"It's hard to say," Vee whispered, then cleared his throat. "A lot of people died."

"How many?"

"Billions," Zed said.

"You mean... We're the only ones left?"

"No, we're not. There are other survivors out there, people who were meant to live through the storms."

"Storms?"

Vee sighed, the farfetched nature of their fates exhausting him before he began. "The Unity developed a way to return the planet back to its natural state. No more electronic communication, no more broadcasts or satellites or TV. After the extinctions reached an all-time high, they introduced these plants that could suck the pollution from the air quickly. They grow extremely fast and are lethal to anyone who wasn't vaccinated against the spores. One plant can release a spore cloud big enough to cover half a football field, and they breed and multiply like vermin. Even a small cluster can kill a stadium of unimmunized people in a few minutes."

"But why would they do this? Have I been vaccinated?"

Axel's questions ripped holes in Vee’s composure. Zed's stomach churned and flipped as the scientist fished for the least aggressive explanation. A gloss came over his eyes, and he avoided his brother's bewildered stare.

"No, Axe. You're not."

"Oh... Are you?" Axel whispered.

"Yeah, I am. So is Lea."

"Why? Why didn't I get vaccinated?"

"You were lost at sea with your platoon for weeks, and before that, you were overseas. They didn't immunize the troops."

"Are you telling me the government wants us all to die?"

"Most of this is widely debated. There are some theories that the Unity had a strategy in mind."

Zed lent the scientist a hand and cut the heavy topic with a smile. "Axel, you're much more special than you know. Those people out there all adore you because of what you've done for Kinderfeld. You were the only one brave enough to go out when they needed supplies. People know your name not only here but out in the world. I've seen you fight and shoot. You're a natural."

"Well, yeah. I've been shooting guns since I was a kid."

"You were a special ops sniper. More than just a good shot."

Axel warmed to the compliment. "And what about you? Are you the mercenary of my dreams?"

Zed blushed and failed to hide her pride. "Not a mercenary... But I've murked a few Scavs in my day."

"Man... I like you," Axel tittered. "Ain't she great, Vee? What a prize."

For the few seconds of silence that passed, Vee's expression darkened. He recognized the reverence pulling Axel's features, the heartfelt way Lea relaxed when they spoke. Even in the absence of memory, Axel and Zed forged a bond too strong to pry apart. He would never wish ill upon his brother, but he mourned the days past with the woman whose eyes shone like vats of golden syrup passing under the morning light. At the risk of sharing a likeness with Ivar, the king who could never quite capture the woman's love, Vee thought of what life might have been like had Axel never returned. Would Zed love him? Could she? Had he ever toed the waters of her unspoken affection? Vee cursed his stupidity the night he told her how he felt and quickly dismantled his chances before she had the opportunity to consider him more than a close friend.

As Zed stared at Axel upright in his bed with his journals splayed out around him, Vee knew it was too late to rescind his platonic claim. A victim of his own sabotage, the scientist turned from them and pushed out every last ounce of breath to make room for another stale intake.

"I think it's time I showed Axel the Crimson Yawn."

Zed nodded and left the brothers, sensing a gloomy air rising between them. Vee was much better at explaining the inexplicable. He delivered news with a needed bluntness, one Zed had never mastered. Once she left the lab searching for distractions, Vee helped his brother box up the journals and offered his elbow to guide Axel back on his feet. Amid the bleak news, Axel had almost forgotten the pain in his extremities.

They waddled to the locked chambers where the bulk of Vee's scientific discoveries came to light. Axel squinted against the bright white walls and polished floor as he followed his brother through a series of doors leading to a clear dome similar to the greenhouses he'd found, only this hollow contained a twisted swarm of redheaded plants, mouths bloody and agape. Each one stood over seven feet tall and lifted its black-spotted maw to the sky in a silent scream. Axel turned from them.

"I've seen these before, but never this many. In my dreams, there's always one growing in a container."

"You recognize them?"

"And you say these things can kill me? How is it possible?" Axel asked.

"They're a sophisticated hybrid plant. They release spores like mushrooms, and those spores become airborne. If you breathe them in, they attack your blood, soaking up the nutrients and essentially turning it into a highly acidic jelly. You burn from the inside out. Well...Dissolve is a better word."

"And you've brought me here why!?" Axel shouted, dodging backward and planting too much weight on his bad ankle.

"Don't worry! They can't hurt you from in here. The filtration system's design protects everything inside."

"I still have a hard time believing all this. You know how crazy it sounds, right?"

Vee clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Oh, I realize. Why do you think it took me so long to break the news? You try finding a delicate way to explain this to someone who just came out of a coma."

Axel became transfixed on the plants again after Vee's assurance. He shuffled to the glass and studied the roaring heads, each one slightly different than its neighbour. They resembled demons, bizarre red monsters with thick necks and broad leaves of wax. Their spiked roots toiled in the ground, gnarled and tangled in a hellish orgy above and beneath the soil. Beyond the ranks, Axel saw the roiling jungle and all its hues of green and black. The sun broke through parts in the towering trees. How he longed to feel the wind on his burnt skin and walk among the flora. Axel observed the plants for a few minutes as Vee stepped back and allowed him time to digest.

"Am I in a nightmare?" Axel met his brother's eyes and did not blink.

"Some might say that. And I'm sorry. I've dedicated my life to making things better for the survivors, but there's nothing left I can do. All we have now is the village and each other."

"And mom and dad?"

"They're gone, Axe. They've been gone a while."

The tattooed man swallowed bitterly and nodded as a wall of tears blinded him. Vee touched his brother's shoulder and shared his pain through the comforting gesture. Axel crossed his chest with his good hand and patted Vee's fingers.

"Do you mind if I spend some time alone? This is... It's just a lot."

"Of course. Take all the time you need, Axe. I'll leave the doors unlocked. You good to walk?"

Axel's voice floated below a whisper. "I’ll manage."

~*~

In the apartment, Zed held her arms out before her and swung them in half-circles, stretching her muscles in preparation for another stiff night spent on the sofa. Vee came in after dinner and found Zed flinging her limbs outward.

"Nightly aerobics?" He asked with a touch of humour, the most he could muster after a day of harsh truths.

"Just stretching out before bed. My back's been killing me."

"Oh," Vee's green eyes popped open wide. "Don't sleep on the couch, Lea. You can take the bed tonight."

"Nah, it's okay."

"No, really. I insist. You deserve a night without hanging off the edge of the cushions."

"Then where will you sleep?" She asked.

"The couch."

Zed laughed at the idea. "You're far too tall to fit comfortably."

"I've passed out there dozens of times. Don't worry about me, really. Take the bed."

"Why're you being so nice, huh?" Zed snorted.

"I've seen you in pain the last few days, and I feel bad. It's rude of me to have one of the biggest beds in this place when I don't do anything to deserve it."

"Oh, shush," Zed jested. "You've done more for this place than anyone."

"There's always the Chrysalis."

The good humour in the room vanished with Vee's maladroit suggestion. Zed shook her head and scoffed. "I'm not going to the Chrysalis. I want to stay here with you guys."

"Fine by me. You'll take the bed tonight then. Grab your blankets and go."

Zed and Vee swapped bedding and wished each other goodnight. Though she deemed herself undeserving of the luxury, when Zed crawled onto Vee's large bed and spread her limbs from corner to corner, her skin bristled with goosebumps. The scent of the sheets belonged to the man outside the room, sprawled on the sofa, long legs dangling over the arm—cotton and boyish musk, the redolence Zed had grown accustomed to except in this moment. Lying on the mattress reminded her of the hugs and closeness she'd received from Vee when Axel had fled.

She relived their days together in clips of happy memories and some not so joyful. Across the apartment, Vee recalled the same night playing in Zed's mind—their evening in the greenhouse when they'd held hands, so close together yet barred by the promises of friendship. Vee cursed himself repeatedly while Zed entertained the idea of getting together with the scientist.

Soon, Zed's thoughts slid over the night she'd spent with Ivar. If she concentrated, she could feel the fullness between her legs still. Ivar had made love to her the way couples did in films. He'd stroked her and kissed her skin, took her nipples gently between his lips and sucked until she giggled. What might have excited some left her shivering. Was one of the brothers more deserving of her love? Was she foolish to think herself so desirable her attention was a coveted badge of excellence?

What a prize!

Lea... I want you to tell me no, right now.

It's like you were made for me.

With her heart racing, Zed turned over in bed and clamped her eyes shut. Debating which of the three men in her life she wanted more made her stomach flip, yet she couldn't keep the lewd considerations from pouring into her head. In these fantasies, she replaced Ivar with Vee. Yes, he was smart and gentle and keen on her, but he'd told her not to let him cross the line, claimed he didn't want her that way despite his feelings. Vee's kind face took the place of Ivar's, coasting down her stomach, stamping her thighs with kisses from luscious lips. She squeezed her legs together and let the inevitable shift knock Vee from the picture to make room for his older brother.

The tattooed man with all his addictions and his looming depression positioned himself between her knees and grasped her ankles delicately. A murderer and womanizer leaned over her body, caging her with long limbs decorated with sparrows, weapons, chains and barbed wire.

We're meant to be together. I see you in my dreams every time I fall asleep.

Zed bit her lip when the phantom sensation invaded her. She knew not how Axel would moan or if he'd coo and sigh the way Ivar had when they had sex. She wanted very much to think Axel would treat her with respect and scorned the claims Trinity had made about his wild side. Then the obscene journal entries came to life, glowing, fanned by salacious visions. What if she didn't want to make love? What if she wanted to be taken hard and fast by a man who worshiped her? Guilt and arousal mixed in her chest and sat heavy, grinning evilly like a demon poised to possess her body.

Sleep wriggled through Zed's conjurations and pulled her under before she realized she was slipping into blackness. The cozy bed and Vee's sheets lulled her, and soon, she dreamed of ordinary things, forgetting her personal stash of pornographic thoughts. She slipped further as the moon made a lazy arc through the night sky until something touched her shoulder and jarred her from sleep with a sharp gasp.

Her scream ripped through the apartment, sending her waker toppling out of bed.

"Lea? Oh, fuck. Fuck!"

"Axel?"

In the dimness, neither of them saw each other but tasted each other's heavy breath. Soon the light snapped on, and Vee stood at the door, chest heaving.

"What the hell is going on?" Vee asked. "Axel? What're you doing?"

"Christ, I thought Zed was you. I just came to... Well, I couldn't sleep," Axel cringed. "Shit, my hand. Fuck, I landed like a sack of bricks."

Vee snickered, setting off a series of giggles. "You came to sleep in my bed?"

"I didn't mean to scare you, Lea."

"It's all right," said Zed. "Really. On any other night, it would have been Vee in here."

Axel pulled himself up by the elbows and sat on the edge of the bed, grimacing from the agony of his agitated wounds. "Sorry, guys. It's hard to sleep out there. People are watching me."

Zed scooted over and patted the part of the mattress warm from her body. "Come on. Lie down. I think we could all use a sleepover after the day we've had."

"You're not serious," Vee said with a scoff as his brother took up Zed's offer and laid down next to her.

Zed nodded with conviction. "Absolutely. You too, Valter. Turn off the light and get over here."

He rolled his eyes as he flipped the light switch. "This is hardly a three-person bed."

"Well, cuddle up, pal."

"Lea takes up a fraction of the bed, anyway," Axel pointed out.

"Is this not weird to you? Three adults sharing a bed?"

Zed moved to the center as Vee climbed into bed from the left. To her right, Axel had already sprawled and turned over to face her in the dark.

"It's no stranger than how half the people in this place sleep all piled on top of each other. Humans were meant to nest. In the wild, this is how we'd sleep."

"Yeah, but we're not in the wild," said Vee.

"Yes, we are, little brother. Have you seen it outside? We're literally in glass bubbles, in the middle of a rainforest. Now shut up, and go to sleep."

"You shut up."

"Guys?" Zed chimed.

"Yeah?" The brothers answered.

"I love you both.”

Robbed of their voices, Axel and Vee set aside their bickering to bask in the genial haze of Zed's words. Axel shifted an inch closer while Vee laid stiffly on his side, eyes wide in the dark. As though her claim was bathed in wine, they soaked in the meaning and slipped drunkenly into slumber.

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