#anyways my point is that let your characters be covered in blood and guts once in a while while also being a lot more wolfy and shit

[st-peculiar]

Got onto the werewolf train recently and I have something to say to tv and film producers. Let your werewolf character be more. Wolfy. For my peace of mind

[realcube]

haikyuu!! boys’ reactions to you speaking 💗 uwu💗

characters: tsukishima, ushijima, yaku, kenma & iwazumi

thank you anon for this cute request 💕 idk what i just wrote but i had fun 👍

IWAIZUMI & KENMA’S ARE AGED UP! MUTURE THEMES - MINORS DNI

tw// fluff, swearing, uwu language, cwinge

kenma’s hcs tw// sexual themes, implied switch!reader, phone sex(?), mentions of a blowjob, mentions of punishment

iwaizumi’s hcs tw// breeding kink, fem!reader, orgasm denial

Kei Tsukishima

you realised he didn’t like it so you did it just to annoy him LMFAO

he was scrolling through tiktok and a girl popped up on his fyp talking like that, so he snarled and immediately flicked it away, muttering something along the lines of ‘why do people speak like that? do they think it’s cute? ‘cause it’s really not; it’s just embarrassing.’

so you wasted no time in responding, ‘sowwy? what was that?’

HELL 👏 FIRE

his blood literally ran cold, he was aware that you liked taking the piss but he didn’t expect you to do it to this extent

 ‘what did you just say?’ he murmured, silently praying that he had just misheard you

you rolled your eyes before scoffing ‘nothing.’ you deepened your voice, just playing around at this point tbh

tsukishima hummed in agreement, deciding not to inquire further as he figured that he must’ve heard the echo of the girl’s voice in his head rather than yours

so he was just about go back to scrolling until he heard you coo in a high-pitched from behind him, ‘tsukishima is a lil’ bitch.’

‘(Y/N), FUCKING STOP!’ he let a throaty scream at you

‘you’re so boring, tsukki-’ you spoke, quickly cutting yourself off so you could switch to your uwu voice, ‘or should I say; bowing.’

you said, hopeful that your voice would make it clearing that you meant ‘boring’ rather than the act of playing an instrument with a bow

‘go to hell.’ he grumbled, trying his best to tune you out by pulling his headphones over his ears 

‘babe~’ you purred, shuffling over to him and peppering kisses along the nape of his neck as you were feeling extra evil today, ‘wuv you~’

‘jail.’  tsukishima simply stated as he switched over to Spotify so he could blare some Mother Mother to drown out the sound of your voice

the worst part was that he couldn’t even tell if he liked it or not PFFT

like it was cute but the fact you weaponised it against him annoyed him

but you were also giving him kithes so he couldn’t exactly complain 💞

Morisuke Yaku 

ok don’t even lie yaku does a variant of the uwu voice whenever he’s trying to insult kuroo IUGBEIGVA

it’s something like ‘aww, kuwoo, does your lil’ undewdeveloped bwain not undewstand algebwa?’ but in a mocking way yk?

so when a he watches a lil’ tabby cat approach you on the street, then you busted out the uwu voice that he had never heard before- he was taken aback

at first he was like ‘woah why are you making fun of that cat?’ bc he always associated that voice with ridicule LMFAO

but when he processed all the nice things you were saying he realised that you were being nice lol

so then he was like ‘awwww 🥺 (y/n) + cat = SO FKN CUTE!! 💕💗💖’ *click click* and he just starts taking photos

he probably puts them on his private story with the caption ‘their an angel 😍’

(then kuroo probably replies with ‘they’re*’) (don’t ask why yaku put him on his private story ✋)

anyway, he’s probably so fond of the voice too like ofc he thinks it’s cute

bc it’s a lil’ kitten and you’re talking to it in a high-pitched voice as if it can understand you SO FKN CUTE

he’s not too effected by it tho- it’s mostly how well you get on with the cat that he really admires

then he couched down beside you to talk to the cat too and y’all had a whole conversation with it in uwu

‘aww, look! are you hungwy, baby?’ you asked the cat as it licked the back of it’s paw

‘i think, it is!’ yaku continued, aware that if anybody from school caught him doing this, he’d pass away on the spot but what can he say? he’s soft for you (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

 ‘i have some blueberries in my bag, you can have some if you say please.’ he told the cat

you were both met by the cat’s blank - but adorable - stare, accompanied by silence until the kitten let out a faint, ‘mew’

‘AWWWWWW!!! 💞💕💖🥺👏 ’ you both squealed in unison, impressed by the kitten’s response 

‘it understands us!’ you gasped while applauding the cat for it’s excellent communication skills

‘the voice must work!’ yaku concluded as he scrambled to throw his bag off his back and rummage through it in search of the tub of blueberries

you nodded, watching in awe as yaku pulled out the tub to carefully pick out the plumpest berries and feed them to the cat

yaku noticed your expression out of the corner of his eye and chuckled, ‘what?’

‘you’re so cute.’ you snickered, lighting bopping his nose with your index finger as he continued to allow the cat to feed out of the palm of his hand

a furious blush immediately covered his cheeks as he hastily turned his head away to hide it - in a typical anime fashion, ‘be quiet.’

Kenma Kuzome

it’s a sex thing-- it’s 100% a sex thing

a kink perhaps?

ngl he loves it when you do the voice in bed 

like don’t ask why it turns him on so much

he’s weak for you whenever you do the voice tbh

BUT it’s only hot when you do it 

when any other person does it - especially if it’s over text - he literally gags 🤢🤢🤢

when a streamer he watches does the voice, he’s just thinks ‘ew ✋ that isn’t cute. pls stop.’

but when you do it- boner alert pfft

especially when you moan in that voice yES HE LOVES THAT

you just execute it in a way these other bitches just can’t, okay? 💅 IUERBGFERIBG

he doesn’t mind putting the voice on sometimes if you like it when he does it but he’s really embarrassed by it 🙈

he’ll try to say something in the voice while you’re rearranging his guts for a change and you’re praising him like 👏👏👏 ‘awh, precious kenma bb.i love that voice on you, i might just let you cum early--’

and he’s fucking groaning from pain, pleasure and humiliation 

‘never again.’ was the single coherent thought he could form

you’re only giving like 20% of the time but if you happen to giving on a day that you’re feeling especially evil, you might make him do the voice in exchange for orgasm privileges

but he gets you back for it though 

you’d call him, whining and pleading for him to help you with the throbbing between your legs or at the very least, give you permission to touch yourself

but considering that the day prior, you had tortured his ass to the point were he was now struggling to sit down, ofc he was just like ‘no ❤’ when you ask for his assistance 

even after your continuous begging, he didn’t budge 

‘don’t you dare put your hands on yourself until i get home. i’m leaving right now so i should be back in half an hour but if you keep pestering me like a little bitch, then i’ll be sure to go extra slow on the highway.’

although, for kenma ‘extra slow’ is probably the speed limit lmao

(istg he drives like he’s in mario kart)

however, half an hour was just too long 😩 i mean, you had probably been on call with him for 5 minutes already and it took you 20 minutes to get him to pick up the phone so by now, you were clearly on the brink of madness

‘kitten~’ you whined, desperately trying to think of a way to convince kenma to aid you 

then you remembered; his weak spot

‘pwease, baby?’ you softened and raised the pitch of your voice

kenma perked up as he realised what you were trying to do, the tips of his ears burning, ‘don’t bother to try that with me, (y/--’

‘i’ll suck you off when you come back.’ you promised, keeping the voice on, the aching getting worse and worse by the second

kenma was now partially able to relate to your circumstance as he began to feel a straining of his own, between his legs at your cutesy tone along with the image of the last time you blew him tormenting his mind

‘whatever. but only use your hands. i can tell when you use a toy so don’t even try; or else i’ll dick you down ‘til the sun rises- okay bye.’

atm the moment, that hardly sounded like a punishment but then you reflected back on how you’d be crying for a mercy after the fourth round with kenma so- yeah

anyway, moral of the story, if you perform the voice well enough, it’s basically kenma���s weakness so use it wisely 

Hajime Iwaizumi

you first did the voice in front of him while you had a friend’s baby in your arms and you were trying to communicate with it 

it kinda looked like 

you: hewwo babyy~ who’s the most precious thing? you are! 

the baby: 🤠

the parent: 🙂

iwa: 😶

iwa ON THE INSIDE: breeding kink go brrrr 😩 i want to put a baby in her so bad- she’ll scream my name in that fucking voice tonight

and he was right

cut to him pounding you while demanding that you say his name in ✨the voice✨ or else you won’t be allowed to cum

ofc you had too much pride for that so you just let him dick you down and cum whether he likes it or not but he could tell that was the plan you had in mind so he suddenly pulled out just as you were about to reach your high

he looked at you with a mean scowl, ‘fucking say it or i’ll stop right now.’

if he were to stop, it would kinda be a punishment for him too but he didn’t care- anything to see his lovely gf suffer tbh 😇

also he could get off to you fingering yourself, struggling to orgasm- he’s done it before and he’ll gladly do it again if you don’t say his damn name 

‘iwa..’ you groaned, gripping at the sheets as you anticipated him sliding his cock back into you 

‘in the voice.’ iwaizumi reiterated, delivering a hard smack to the side of your thigh out of annoyance

you hissed at the sharp impact , gulping to lubricate your dry throat before choking out in your best imitation of the voice he desired, ‘iwa~’

he was only half-satisfied with what you uttered but i mean, it got the job done

his dick was throbbing, practically begging for the comfort of your warm cunt once again so he hastily slipped back in, letting out a low groan as he did so

so he’d continue hammer you from behind, probably muttering incoherent things about your babies and your voice while doing so but you chose to pay little attention to it as you couldn’t help but focus on your own intense pleasure

once he finally climaxed, he did it inside you which you wasn’t surprising as y’all had already established that you love being being filled up and he loves filling you up 💕

but then he insisted that y’all go for another few rounds to increase the chance of pregnancy 

like- sir-

you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were on birth control 

bc surely......he would’ve known

but he didn’t

you eventually told him that you had no interest in coming off birth control and he wasn’t mad LMAO he didn’t even want a baby tbh he was just caught up in the moment 

yeah no but if you do the voice again, the cycle will continue

Wakatoshi Ushijima

you were both hanging out in your bedroom, doing your own things, and you were sending your friend a (video) snap so you ironically used the uwu voice

ofc this caught his attention so he shifted his gaze off of his revision sheets and onto you, shooting you a weird look

you couldn’t help but snicker, turning to him and continuing with your little impression, ‘can i hewp you?’ you tried to ask in all seriousness but you couldn’t suppress the smile that was tugging on the corners of your lip

were you a little high? yes

ushijima just blinked rapidly, wondering why you sound like a cuter version of mickey mouse all of a sudden

was it a trend?

or maybe it was for one of those ‘tiktoks’?

either way, ushijima couldn’t help what he said next

‘no. i’m fiwne.’

IUERSBGTOHAROHSGBGFRO

HE SAID IT LIKE ‘fi - whine’ THO

you passed away 💀⚰

‘TOSHI!!!’ you screamed, feeling your soul leave your body

ushijima gasped, thinking that you had just been possessed or sumn, ‘hm?’

once he realised that you were in fact sane, he figured that your reaction must have something to do with his response 

‘did i say something wrong?’ his lips curling into the tiniest of smiles, simply because you looked so joyous so ofc he was he was happy seeing you happy

‘nope! please say it again, toshi! i’m beggin’ ya’

‘no.’

although he loved hearing you laugh more than anything, the man had his limits

ngl he doesn’t mind when you do it - it just doesn’t especially effect him, that’s all

you could just randomly start talking like that during a conversation and he’ll just go from 😐 to 😐

but he gets butterflies when you call him ‘baby’ which is something you usually pickup whenever you put on the voice lol <3

pls call him ‘baby’ or ‘babe’ more he just wants to feel cared for and loved for a change instead of always having to constantly put on a front of ‘big, stoic man with no feeling that you can push around to your hearts content’  around literally everyone. sometimes he just wants to come home and feel like he can actually express himself and be soft without getting ridiculed  

[omiscurls]

hi!! could i request a diluc x fem!reader angst where they were childhood friends, and when reader gets a fiancé, diluc tries to confess his feelings but reader rejects him, gets married and moves from mondstat, and every now and then diluc sends reader letters (apologizing, asking how readers day was, hoping they come back). thanks!

unrequited

plot: reader rejects the character

contains: diluc

warnings: angsty and like one curse word, that’s all

diluc was a cute kid.

as the heir to one of the most wealthy and powerful families in mondstadt, he was polite not only to his senior, but also incredibly nice to his friends, as well. different that most boys his age, he didn’t go around yelling dumb, inappropriate jokes, and didn’t take pride in making girls feel bad.

he was always sweet to those doing worse than him in class, be it theory or sparring, and acted like an absolute saint to his adopted brother.

naturally, how could one not adore a kid like that? how could the mondstadt girls not line up to see him each time, how could the boys not want to play with him? how could anyone resist, when he had that charm to him that seemed to draw people near almost against their free will?

finally, how could you not take pride in the fact that out of all those over-the-top girls who fought over each other to talk to him, out of all those boys that never failed to bug him in each little scrap of his free time, he chose to try and get close to you?

you didn’t understand it at first, but it seemed like he genuinely wanted to know you, his eyes looking as though they were studying your expression at all times, a warm smile welcoming you each time you passed him by.

his words were careful and his sentences always strained, as if he struggled to talk, but a sense of honesty and genuine sympathy always seeped through his words, confusing your little childish brain, but also forming a warm and fuzzy feeling inside your chest. 

over the years, not only did you finally answer to his advances, but also befriend the kid. his rare smiles were reserved for your eyes only, and his mind opened up before you each and every time you talked, no restrain and limitations between you two. 

he’d sit behind you in class, sometimes passing you notes with an answer to questions you didn’t know, or a funny note about the teacher, or just simply asking if you want to hang out after school. 

you’d go to windrise and sit under the tree, talking for hours about the most useless of things, about what you thought the clouds looked like, but also your futures, your dreams and hopes. 

he’d explain math to you before every exam in the dark rooms of dawn winery, hair pulled up and tea made for the both of you, looking at your struggling with unmistakable patience and affection, but what could you know? you were kids, barely even teenagers. why would you think anything of the way he said he’ll “always be there for you” after some simple math tutoring? how could you analyze his kind stare that you never saw him wear for other people? 

and so you didn’t. 

he’d sit with you on the counter of his kitchen, carefully caressing your back as you wet his shirt with tears, quietly telling you that “they didn’t deserve you anyway” after your first ever heartbreak. to hell with the fact that his own heart was breaking a millimetre more with every word he spoke, if what he said calmed you in any way, he’d talk all night, going on and on about how you deserve the world, and nothing less. 

you held his hand at his fathers memorial service, letting him tighten his grip on your fingers harder every time, you wiped away the tears, you listen to his sobs and pleas when the two of you were alone. you offered solace to him over the next painful months, you justified every word he hurt kaeya with, only to make him feel better about himself. 

to him, you were like an angel sent from above. you restored the faith he had lost in the world, you stuck by his side and lighted up his days one after the other, how could he not adore you?

how could he not fall in love? 

and trust when i say, he did really try to avoid it. he tried pushing his thoughts away, he tried focusing on something else, tried avoiding you, tried everything. no matter what he did, his mind circled back to your smile, and unconsciously he smiled as well, even if the next second he’d look in the mirror and wipe it off his face as if it was a crime to smile. 

diluc was a cute kid, and he grew up to be a polite gentleman, whom you called a friend. and as any polite gentleman, he wouldn’t dare do anything to loose the honor you had given him, so he stayed silent. stayed silent since his in-class notes, through talks about the future, through your breakups, through all the times you had been there for him. in no universe would he ever mention how the weight was lifted off his shoulders every time you as much as looked his way, how all the clouds went away at the sound of your laugh, and how he was ready to do anything in the world to keep you happy. 

somewhere in his mind, perhaps he thought you had somehow known all along, and would reward his efforts to not complicate your life with his emotions with loving him back, but how could you know? how, if he kept it a secret that well? 

in the end, his own plan backfired on him, and he realized he had lost when you ran through his door, tears in your eyes, but a smile on your face, showing off a ring, shining in sunlight, resting on your finger.

if he ever thought “they didn’t deserve you” hurt him, “i’m so happy for you!” stabbed his soul a thousand times more painfully. 

to normal people of mondstadt, there was no change in behavior from the gloomy and serious owner of angel’s share, but a few noticed how heavy his presence was, how desperately he blinked back the sheen layer of tears, glistening in the candle light while he was serving drinks, and you were off somewhere in the back, laughing with your lover by your side. 

he had lost his chance, and now there was no way in which he could get you back. no way at all. all his life, he had built up a hope inside that one of these days, he’ll get a happy ever after, and lived with that thought through all the bad moments that came along the way, and now these years of carefully building this scenario came crushing down with the realization. 

in a desperate search of any relief, he came to the conclusion that the only thing to be even remotely at peace with himself was to... simply just tell you. 

so there he was, right outside your door, the watch on his wrist striking ten in the evening, stars shining brightly on your doorstep, as you appeared before him, merely a nightgown shielding you from the cold air of the night, a soft smile adoring your lips from the moment you realized it was him. 

“diluc? what’re you doing here this late?” you said, grabbing a coat from behind the door and closing it behind you. a foolish hope sprung inside him when you joined him outside, as he stared at you with a little grin, working up the courage to speak up. 

“there’s something i wish to tell you about” he merely whispered, gesturing you to come with him.

the walk to windrise was longer than the ones you remembered from your childhood days, and the sharp air nibbled on your skin mercilessly, to the point your legs hurt a bit when you reached the tree.

diluc turned your way and spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, but was thirty minutes.

“i hoped not to burden you with the secret i’ll share with you now, and i’m sorry for whatever bad outcome it might cause, but… truth is, i can’t keep it to myself anymore, and if i want to have some peace for myself, i have to trouble you with it.” he said quietly, settling worry in your gut.

“you can tell me anything” you assured calmly “your secrets are always safe with me”

he took one last look into your caring eyes, feeling a little better just having you smile at him, and took a breath before spilling.

“i might’ve been in love with you for the last ten years” he said calmly “and i know this is hardly the time, i really do, but i just-“

“what?”

you looked at him in surprise, blood audibly pumping through your veins as you tried to comprehend what he just said.

“i do understand that you’re engaged, but-“

“do you? do you, really?” you said bitterly, making his heart sink in regret. “because to me it seems like i waited for you all those years, i hoped, and i prayed, and i wished, and after i finally, finally gave up, you decide to mess with my emotions right when i thought i had them figured out?”

diluc was stunned. so you felt the same way about him, once? he could’ve had all he hoped for? he didn’t even comprehend the rest of your sentence fully, focusing on how you just admitted to having feelings for him somewhen in the past.

“no, i’m not trying to mess with you, I’m-“

“but you are! honestly, diluc, i knew you were somewhat insensitive, but this is blatantly cruel! what- i don’t- why didn’t you say this to me earlier?”

“i wish i did, but to me it seemed like you were always chasing someone else, and i didn’t want to-“

“bother me? is that it? you didn’t want to bother me so now you decided to try and mess with my relationship? god, i- i need to be alone right now. sorry.”

and with that you were out of your usual childhood spot, leaving him alone under the tree that shared both of your secrets and plans for so long.

a longing stare pierced through your back as you ran back to mondstadt, not going home right away, but trying to find a spot where nobody would find you.

“fuck” he muttered. he was familiar with the feeling of loss, but the fact that it was nobody’s fault but his own made it a hundred times worse.

diluc was a cute child, and grew up to be a polite gentleman. so he was there to apologize to you on countless occasions, ready to beg forgiveness for his recklessness and lack of thought, but you were never there to hear his pleas.

and so it went on, a huge wedding covered the streets of mondstadt in white while he stood in the sidelines, his friends said goodbye to you as he watched from a safe distance. you left, and so did every remaining proof of his embarrassment.

nevertheless, he sent countless letters, no address on the envelope, save for the name of the city, hoping that one of them would eventually reach you. sorrow and tears almost spilled from the words written in a tidy cursive, but he never had any certainty about wether they reached you or not.

and while he hoped you forgave him,

he knew you didn’t.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Too Late (Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my entry to @fuchsiagrasshopper's 200 Followers Writing Challenge. Congratulations again, love 💝

This is a variation on Ivar's death. Consider yourself warned. And... sorry 😔

The prompt, from the song Too Late, by Ashes Divides, is in bold and italics.

@zuxiezendler - Thank you for reassuring me (I needed it) and for beta reading this for me 🌺

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Ivar is about to go to war against Alfred. His eyes are very blue, though.

Warnings: major character death; mention of blood and fatal wound (nothing graphic).

Words: 1815

When a hand lingers on his forehead, Ivar slowly opens his eyes before shifting in the makeshift bed and eventually sitting upright, allowing you to take a seat next to him. Looking at him with concern, you tilt your head to the side, one of your hands resting lightly on his chest while the other grazes his thigh.

Studying him, you bite your lower lip. "Your eyes have turned deep blue, Ivar. You know what that means, remember?" Ivar snorts and then rolls his eyes, visibly annoyed. You don't stop, though. "Hvitserk told me. Your brothers used to watch over you. They knew that when your eyes turned blue that you were in great danger of breaking your bones. And they would say 'Not today, Ivar. Not today.'"

Knitting his brow, your lover wearily rubs a filthy hand over his face, his eyes never leaving yours. "I remember." He finally nods, a half-smile curling his lips. "I know."

"You could let Hvitserk take command, Ivar. You'd stay behind, for once. I could even stay with you." You know you're walking on eggshells, but when Ivar answers, there's surprisingly no anger in his voice. Though the calm determination in his gaze tells you that arguing is pointless.

"No, Y/N." He shakes his head and grabs your hand, playing absently with your fingers. "No," he repeats, "Hvitserk must lead the back-up troops, it has to be someone I trust. As for you, I need you on the battlefield. You're our best shieldmaiden, and you know that. And...", he tilts his head, lightly shrugging, "I don't think we can defeat Alfred if I'm not there too... You know..." He taps his forehead with his pointer finger and you know exactly what he means. He's right. His men are fearsome warriors, but they sometimes – most of the time – need guidance when fighting, and who else could do that better than Ivar, with his cunning and extraordinary strategic mind?

No. He won't change his mind.

For the briefest moment, you think you should tell him. But no. It wouldn't change anything. You're not deluding yourself, he'd still go. And he'd demand that you stay behind. And that's not happening. It's an option you refuse to even consider. If he goes, you go. That's who you are. Both of you. A king – a warrior – and a shieldmaiden.

You'll tell him afterwards. Once it's all over. Once Alfred is defeated.

"Okay, then." Leaning in, you give him a peck on the lips before standing up. "Promise you'll be careful."

Flashing you a reassuring yet tired smile, he nods. "I always am."

The battle rages for hours now and you know you should feel it in your bones. The pain. The exhaustion. But you don't. Unharmed and powerful, a shield in your left hand, it's like you're flying, dodging blow after blow, slicing throat after throat, driving your trustworthy sword into chests or guts, as you slash your way through the enemies. Exhilarated, you shout war cries and you know that if they are cathartic to you, they scare the Saxon soldiers. The thought makes you laugh – and indeed a crazy laugh escapes your throat as you run forward, swinging your blade from side to side, momentarily crouching down as an axe flies over your head.

Attacking a Saxon with your shield, you beat him savagely with repeated blows to his skull before skewering him with your sword. As he falls to the ground, already dead, you look up to the sky for a second, and silently thank the gods, a beaming smile adorning your face. You love that. You're never more alive than on the battlefield. As you lower your gaze, eager to slaughter more and more Christians, your eyes catch something on the left.

And it's like the world stops spinning.

Like your heart stops beating.

And you stop breathing.

Petrified, you can't comprehend what you're seeing. It doesn't make sense. It can't make sense. Why is this Saxon stabbing Ivar? How can it be? Why isn't your lover fighting back? Why is he bleeding? Your shield and sword slipping out of your hands, the ringing in your ears is suddenly deafening, and for a fleeting second, you think you might throw up. But you won't. Because that can't be real. You're hallucinating, for sure. It can't be happening. It doesn't make sense. It can't. It simply can't.

A sudden cry of pain and the distinctive and all too familiar sound of a broken bone snap you out of your stupor and you rush over to your lover – 'Not today, Ivar, not today, no' – dropping to the ground next to him, your hand grazing his cheek. As you see the state he's in – his left leg unnaturally bent at the knee with exposed bone; his stomach covered with blood – a shiver runs down your spine and you gasp, filled with horror. You want to cry, and scream, and shout but instead you inhale deeply, blinking several times before locking eyes with his bloodied ones. Your man needs you.

"I'm here, Ivar, I'm here." As you carefully place his head on your lap, his hand grabs your arm, squeezing it. His eyelids flutter as he tries to focus his gaze on you. Weakly raising his free hand, he fails to touch your face and something between a sob and a whine escapes his lips. Gently intertwining his fingers with yours, you can't help but repeat yourself. "I'm here, my love, I'm here."

A faint shake of his head and then he speaks, his voice hoarse and barely a whisper. "You... You should leave... Leave, Y/N.." He swallows painfully, and a sob chokes in your throat as you see blood running out of his mouth. You shake your head, not trusting your voice, but Ivar, your stubborn lover, keeps speaking, mustering all his strength. "Leave, my love, you're... not safe... here..." He then lets out a shuddering breath, loosening his grip on your arm.

Raising your head and looking around, you see that your fellow warriors are gone. Someone, Haakon probably – you always saw Ivar's second in command as a coward – must have sounded the retreat, now that their king is down. You don't have time to dwell on it though as you realize that the two of you are now surrounded by Saxon soldiers, their swords pointed at you. You coldly glare at them for a few brief seconds before meeting King Alfred's gaze. The Saxon commander seems shocked as he looks with wide open eyes at the man lying in front of you.

"Lower your weapons!" You barely hear Alfred's order, your mind taken with other thoughts, and you don't bother to see if his soldiers obey. The truth is, Alfred and his men are the least of your concerns right now. No matter what happens, no matter what they do, you're not going anywhere.

Once more, giving your undivided attention to your lover, you shake your head, speaking with conviction and determination. "I'm not leaving your side, my love."

Ivar frowns and winces. "I want you to... be safe..." He mutters with great effort, clearly in terrible pain. "It makes... no difference if... if you stay. I'm..." He squeezes his eyes shut, and you're suddenly aware of how pale he is, his hand on your arm now ice cold. He eventually speaks again, his breathing ragged and shallow. "I'm going to... die anyway. Y/N," his voice is choked, and your eyes are full of tears, "I'm...dying."

He's right. He's dying. There's no denying it. As heartbreaking as this thought may be, it is no less true. You've been in enough battles, seen enough fatal injuries to not delude yourself. With a wound that bad, there's no chance of survival. Absolutely none. You know it won't take long.

But it doesn't change a single thing. How could you leave him here, in this foreign land, surrounded by strangers – by enemies? How could you? You don't want to be safe, you want to be with him, as long as you can.

You may not be able to save him, but you can be there. You want to be there.

I will not lose you to a world that doesn't care

To the monsters that would have you.

Your hand cups his face as you swallow thickly, blinking back tears. "And I want to be here. I won't leave you alone." The pain in your heart is such that you can hardly speak. Taking the deepest breath you can, you then bite your inner cheek so hard that you can taste the blood in your mouth. "You're not alone, my love. You don't have to face this alone."

Ivar's eyes are closed, and for a moment, you're not sure he heard you. If you're being honest, you're not sure he's still there with you, even if he's still breathing.

But then, his eyelids flutter open, revealing glassy eyes. There's no more light in them; no more fight. "Not today..." He mumbles, despair clear in his voice. And suddenly his face crumples and his eyes are full of tears and you can almost physically feel the panic coursing through his battered body. When he speaks, sobbing very hard, it's to say what you never thought you'd hear him say, his voice as shaky as your hand on his face.

"I'm afraid."

It rips your heart out.

"I'm afraid."

It tears you to pieces.

"I'm afraid."

It destroys you.

You hiccup, a hand moving to cover your mouth. You want to take his pain away, you want to die and let him live. Your head is spinning, you're dying from the inside, you're not sure you can do it, but you have to. You know you have to.

So, gathering the courage you thought you didn't have, you nod. With tears rolling down your face, you swallow hard and say, "I won't tell anyone." Shaking with long, racking sobs, you try to smile. "No one will ever forget Ivar the Boneless. And I will never forget you, my love."

The fear in his haunted eyes almost unbearable, you can just soothe him, a reassuring hand on his cheek. Your tears join his, splashing on his face as you whisper again and again. "You're not alone, my love... I'm right here, next to you... You're not alone..." Sliding your arm under his head, you clumsily lie down next to him, curling your limbs around his body, cradling him.

Never surrender you, I always be there

I will be there to wrap myself around you.

And then, with a last gasp, your lover stops breathing.

And your whole world just shatters around you over and over and over...

Time loses all meaning.

You can't move.

Can't think.

Can't cry.

Can't feel.

He's gone.

And you realize you never had a chance to tell him...

He's gone.

Tagging: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @fuchsiagrasshopper

[siimjaeyun]

blue bag- jay park

genre: fluff, angst, bad boy au

tw: street violence, mentions of gangs

-------

Jay's reputation at Belift wasn't exactly a secret to most people. The loose uniform with the leather jacket, covered bruises, and exposed tattoos were noticeable to anyone who bothered to pay attention.

Most people would like to assume to not judge him by his appearance, but his character matched it to a tea. He never bothered to give anyone the time of the day, much less even look in their direction. The only people who received such privileges were his closest six friends.

Or anyone who dared to cross his path- including the slight punches he's thrown at the occasional classmate.

But people couldn't see behind his intentions. Like the time he almost beat one of uppers to a pulp when they tried picking on jungwon his first year. All good intentions.

On this fateful day, the teacher had thought a slight change would mix things up. Instead of placing Jay in the back by himself like usual, he placed him right beside you.

"Hi Jay!" Your warm welcome startled him to say the least. Sure, he was used to love letters by other girls, but you didn't really look at him that way.

He stayed silent and placed his head back onto the desk. At the end of class, you bid him goodbye and walked out with your friends who seemed to tattle over him almost immediately.

-------

After yet again another argument with the rivaling gang leader, he finds himself cornered in the back of an alley way. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to think you could fight five men at once.

Tired, and out of breath, he's barely holding onto himself before there's a final blow to his lower stomach, collapsing onto the ground before him.

The men are about to approach him, this time, aiming towards his back, but retreat at the sounds of a siren.

"Here, hurry! They might come back." He looks up and finds it's you, carrying a bag in one hand and reaching out towards him with the other.

"Get lost." Jay, who is too stubborn to ask for help, attempts to get up before his knees give up on him.

"You can't walk. Stop being a bitch and let me help you." You swing his arm over your shoulder, and pull him up, guiding him towards the exit of alley way. At the closest convenience store, you rest him on a bench, bringing a towel to his face to wipe off the blood from his brow and lip.

"How did you see me?" He barely manages to ask.

"I didn't know it was you until I saw your face, which is very beat up by the way." He observes quietly and patiently waits for you retreat the towel from his face, slowly admiring the way you move your eyebrows while humming a small beat. 

“I’m done. I’ll call a taxi to take you home so you can finish up. I’m going to assume this isn’t the first time you get beat up.” Jay, snapping back to reality, stands up quickly and blocks your view of the street. 

“I can manage. Now go home.” He nods towards the direction of the grand city. 

“You can barely walk. Either I take you home, or text someone to come pick you up.” Jay immediately takes the second option, and searches quickly for his phone before realizing he must of left at it home. 

“Go ahead, call the taxi.” He mutters under his breath. The bright lights signal to him that he has arrived, and in silence, you drop him off, and leave, not letting Jay even look back and say a quick ‘thank you.’ 

----- 

If Jay didn’t know any better, it’s almost as if nothing had occurred yesterday. He’s still wearing his black mask to cover up his bruises, but you walked in with a smile and the same welcome from the past two weeks. 

Usually, he would turn the other way or not even bother to look at you, but his slight nod was reassurance enough. 

At the end of class, he was almost the last to leave, given that he had woken up from napping the entire class. Rather than seeing the empty room he was used to waking up in, he saw you again in front of him, holding a blue bag. 

“Here. Eat well okay?” You left the bag onto his desk and walked out again before he could respond. He stuffed the bag into his backpack and went towards the lunch room he was used to meeting his friends in. 

“Jay’s late and beat up. What a surprise.” Sunoo’s snarky comment doesn’t catch him off guard, and instead pulls out the blue bag from his backpack and rests it on the table. 

“Oh? Jay brought lunch? Quick, let’s rate his cooking skills.” Before Jay can react, Heeseung had already snatched it from the table, pulling out a Tupperware with a sticky note on top. 

“Who’s y/n? And why did she call you a loser?” Heeseung asks, opening the container to a bento box. 

“No one, now give it back.” Jay takes back the container, almost admiring the contents inside. 

It was the first time his heart began to take notice of you. 

----- 

Everyone was quickly suspicious about Jay’s relationship with you. It all started with him publicly going to you and thanking you for the food. Then it was the constant good mornings when you would welcome him at the beginning of class. Then it was the morning coffee, and walking you to class in the morning. He was practically stuck to you when he wasn’t with his friends. 

“You know, I think Jay likes you.” One of your friends mentioned casually, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Stop taking those rumors too seriously, he’s just paying back a favor.”

Yet, your friends weren’t the only ones who were beginning to notice. Most noticeably, Jay’s very own friends. 

“Sunghoon, I don’t like her, so can you shut up?” Jay, almost irritated by the constant confusion of emotions. 

“So, you wouldn’t mind her being so close with Sunoo?” Jake points at your direction. You laughing and trying to hold yourself together while punching Sunoo in the arm. 

“No. Of course not." Yet, he still finds himself burning holes into Sunoo's skull as he sees you wrap an arm around his neck to pull him into a head lock.

It seemed as if that was the last straw because in the next moment, Sunghoon was attempting to prevent Jay's next big mess.

"Get your hands off him." Jay commands, catching not only your attention, but those around him as well.

"Relax Jay, she's just playing around." Sunoo gets himself out of the head lock, and looks at your face who's been cleared of any laughter.

"I'll see you later Sunoo." You can't even look at Jay in the eyes before walking off with another friend.

"What's wrong with you? You know she wasn't hurting me!"

"Don't talk to me right now Sunoo." Jay storms off in the opposite direction while Sunoo turns his head to the side at Sunghoon.

"Am I going to die?"

"Not yet anyway. I think if you stay off y/n, maybe it'll extend your life line." Sunghoon states honestly.

"What do you think would happen if I told him she's my cousin?"

"I don't know but I've never seen Jay so..like this. Its a good look on him."

However, Jay is his full fledged rage, begins to shove everyone in his way including a poor freshman who happens to fall in front of your locker.

"Jay what the fuck!? Are you okay?" You crouch down and reach your hand out, giving Jay a bitter feeling.

"Is this how you catch men? You pretend to be the good guy?"

"Excuse me?" You repeat, shocked at Jay's sudden attitude.

"Nevermind just stay away from me? Got it?" You don't even process the words before he dashes off, ignoring his friends who are attempting to catch his attention.

"Sunghoon, what's his issue ?" Sunghoon only let's out a heavy sigh before shrugging his shoulders.

"It's not my business, but I can assure you that anger won't end well."

-----

And it just so happens that Sunghoon's response was quiet accurate considering Jay's familiar situation. He's been long enough member of his gang to know what territories they're not exactly welcomed.

Yet, he doesn't care and does so anyway because anything is better than having to imagine you with some one else.

"Haven't seen you in a while Jay, must have been busy hmm." The leader mocks him, but it only infuriates the pent up anger within him causing him to land a punch at his gut.

"Don't test me." And as if history repeats itself, he finds himself once more cornered in the back of an alley way. With the collection of bruises forming on his stomach, one could tell he was a kick or two away from a good surgery.

"Jay! Stop!" He curses himself mentally when he watches you run towards him.

"You better leave pretty one...I mean unless..." He approaches you, reaching for your chin to tilt it sidewards, leading to Jay using his last strength to push him off you.

"Don't touch her." Jay grits his teeth, earning a smirk that quickly turns into a frown at hearing the sound of police sirens.

"You got lucky this time." He flees the scene leaving you again with a bloodied up Jay.

"You promised me to not fight anymore!" Jay chooses to ignore you and limps away to a nearby post.

"And I told you to stay away from me y/n. I don't need people like you to worry about me because they pity me" He responds.

"How am I not supposed to worry when you left so suddenly? One moment we're good and the next you're mad at Sunoo and everyone?" You place him on the stair case while getting your first aid kit ready.

"How am I supposed to stay away when you worry me? Do you have any idea how fast I ran here with this when Jake told me you weren't at your house?" You continue to apply a bit of alcohol on his open cuts.

"I'm sorry, I was upset. I saw you with Sunoo earlier and I don't know what came over me. Sunoo is so darn perfect, and what about me? I was afraid you'd leave me." Jay mumbles the last part quietly, but you manage to hear it well.

Without much hesitancy, you press a light kiss onto his bruised and swollen lips. He gasps slightly but manages to wrap his arms around your waist.

"I'm not leaving okay, I'm here to stay if you want me to." Jay grabs you and pulls you in for a hug, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

"Please stay." He mumbles, letting his grip on you get stronger. He stays there for a while, before looking at the blue bag in your hand.

"What's this?"

"I brought some dinner because I figured you would be too lazy to do it yourself and end up eating frozen nuggets again." He smiles slightly before admiring your features.

"I really like you y/n.." Jay confesses, still in the position of hugging you.

"I like you too Jay...I really do." A grin forms on his face and he drops another kiss on your cheek before leading the way out.

Perhaps Jay wasn't exactly perfect, but you always knew he was more than ready to love and learn by your side.

------

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts haha, but I figured we could all use a little fluff with everything going on :( <3

[alleycat-arcade]

Game Start! Tip the Scales, Justice Prevails: Spades and Rooks(Sampler Hcs)

(I forgot to post this after my second movie date with friends wdjiasjfidi. Anyway, here's Part Two for my Tears of Themis samplers! After this I'll be finishing up Genshin and some more Reverse!Au for obey since yall liked it. I haven't been to a movie in like a theatre in forever and I went twice this week and got inspired. Reminder that I do use the English names for the boys, but if you guys would prefer their originals let me know!)

Movie Dates with the ToT Boys! (Part 2 of sampler, Headcanons)

Content Warnings?: Nope, should be all good this time!

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Artem Wing:

Since Artem spends his weekends working Part-time as a Movie Critic, I imagine he'd spend a lot of time going over his favourites before taking you out to an older classic.

Likely, it would be a Sci-fi movie or something similar, since those are his favourite type of books. I could see him enjoying a movie like Blade Runner or Looper potentially. Maybe even The Fifth Element?(I haven't seen that one in a while, so maybe not.)

He's torn between watching the movie at his house with you or going to a theatre, but ultimately decides to go out and treat you to a nice dinner afterwards.

If you'd like, he would talk and critique the movie alongside you throughout. The two of you would discuss the cinematography, acting, direction, and overall script of the story while sharing a tub of lightly buttered popcorn. You'd of course make sure to sit far enough away from the other guests though, and make sure to keep your voices low.

If you're more the type to take in the whole experience first, he'd silently watch the movie beside you, perhaps occasionally taking his eyes off the screen to watch your expressions during the movie to note what excites or intrigued you about the movie.

Either way, he'd want to discuss it with you in-depth over dinner afterwards.

Perhaps your opinions may make an appearance in his next critique.

When the movie has jump scares or especially frightening parts, both of you probably jump in your seats, clutching each others' hand just a smidge tighter.

He'd probably be willing to try at least every genre of movie at least once. Even the strange and more experimental types of films. He does critique them after all.

The one type I can't see him liking are those types of horror flicks that are gorey just to be gorey. Like hardly any real plot behind it or real motive for character actions, just full of realistic blood and guts because it's a Hollywood movie with a halfway decent budget.

Don't try and convince him to sneak food in. He will pay for the incredibly overpriced movie snacks, rather than somehow get in a scandal for this. Depending if you go to that type of movie theatre with a balcony where you can watch the movie and have a meal, he'll pay for that too.

Luke Pearce:

Now, the obvious answer would be that he loves detective movies.

He's probably seen just about every variation of Sherlock Holmes on the big screen, and also has spent a considerable time watching old classical era Film Noir movies.

I can also see him going to see Spy movies quite often for, well, obvious reasons.

Honestly he probably has a major soft spot for those cheesy RomComs. Like Hallmark movie levels of cheese. I can't imagine him liking too many love stories with tragic endings. (Too realistic for him)

Takes you to a movie you've mentioned at some point really wanting to go to or that he's picked up on you potentially liking. He may or may not have made a massive red string covered diagram to figure it out.

Probably the most likely to want to watch the movie at home with just the two of you. He won't be apposed to going to the theater, he'd just rather cuddle up in blankets on the couch with you rather than sit in a potentially crowded room.

Starts getting antsy in his seat when the movie starts turning the detective gears in his brain. He keeps quiet, worried that he might spoil it for you if he blurts out his thoughts, but you can always tell when he's getting really into the movie by how he rubs his thumb in quick circles on the back of your palm.

I could really see him trying to recreate some of the Spy gadgets he sees in movies. Some of them are duds because there's no way they'd be possible, but others are actually pretty functional. He'd give you some as gifts, both because you watched the movie with him and to keep you safe.

Need food snuck into the theater? He's your man. You cannot convince me that he doesn't have a ton of secret pockets in his clothes. Finds the best route to enter without being caught by staff. (Who probably don't even care.)

Vyn Richter

Now Vyn, Vyn was a tough nut to crack for this.

Sure, he probably enjoys the occasional movie that discusses the topics of psychology and mental health, but only when they're done correctly and accurately. (We all know at least one movie that's shit with that concept.)

Honestly, I can see him being more of the type to watch documentaries, movies based off real life events, or even movies based off of books.

Though it sounds like a boring idea, a lot of those movies and programs are actually quite enthralling when you get into them.

Probably will ask you outright what sort of film you'd like to watch and where you'd like to go. If he knows you well enough, he probably already knows the answer, but he'd still like to allow you to select it anyway. Better to ask then guess wrong and end up making the night awkward.

Not surprisingly very quiet throughout the movie. He's focused on taking everything in, the movie and you. Like Artem, I feel like he'd frequently glance over to see how you're feeling about the movie. At most he probably makes an affirmative hum or similar noises if you ask him anything during the movie.

After the movie, you two would probably get into an intellectually stimulating debate between character motives if you two really got into it. Even if he does agree with your points, he does make fairly good arguments like "why Character A may have done this to Character C even though they were childhood friends". You two maybe even end up in a discussion about psychological concepts that pertain to the movie.

He may even bring up your discussions in his lectures should they relate to the topic.

He probably doesn't agree to sneak items in most of the time, but might on the rare occasion. His outfits don't really look like they'd be the best for sneaking in snacks though, may want to talk him into wearing a thicker jacket perhaps.

Marius Von Hagen:

Spy movies are right up his alley. Especially if said spy is rich and handsome.

Probably also a sucker for Superhero and Fantasy movies.

Mostly just loves more self-indulgent sort of films, like the sort of movies who's world's you try to imagine yourself in after you exit.

Also the type to enjoy short films like ones you'd find at a film festival. He's probably been invited to quite a few to be honest.

Mentioning a movie you want to watch is like asking to be invited to premiere with him. Because that will be what you get. If the movie doesn't have a premiere, he's definitely at least going to rent out a whole theatre room to the two of you on opening night.

If he was to pick a movie to invite you to, it'd probably be a horror movie. He just wants you to cling to his arm so he can pull out the big strong tough guy act.

But you know what trope I'm a sucker for? Acts super tough but secretly a scaredy cat. >:)

You're barely past the first kill of the movie before Marius is clung to your arm in a death grip. He tells you he's fine but it's really obvious he's not. Probably ends up burying his face into your shoulder near the end if it gets to be too much for him. Depending on how badly the movie may have shaken him up, he may be more mellow than his usual cocky personality for a moment. This is the best time to squeeze out a confession that'd he'd never even sat down to watch a scary movie until now.

He goes back to his usual self pretty quickly after though. If you wanna get some payback teasing in on him, you've got about a week before he's not going to be flustered by it.

He'd sneak in food if you asked, but he'd also probably buy you the whole concession stand if you asked as well.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

(Again, apologies if and charas are OOC! I am still working on finding my groove when writing lmao. If yall want, I can also write for the ToT girls as well! I just wanted to write a cute set of fluffy headcanons lolol. Onto Genshin next! And like always, I'll pop back in if I want to add more or notice and grammatical or character mistakes. Ciao!)

[justkending]

The Number One Rule. Chapter 16.

Series Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 5700+

A/N: This chapter is going to give us quite a bit of background information and some throwback memories. I really enjoyed writing this one and creating a past for these characters. All of them. Let me know what you think! I’m so excited to share this one with you all:)

Chapter Sixteen:

“You know, I thought that we were close enough that you could come to me with this kind of thing. That you wouldn’t feel like you had to hide it from me. Y/N and you both,” he said with pursed lips. “Guess I was wrong.” 

With that he turned back and walked to his car. Bucky watched as he started the engine, pulled out, and disappeared. 

What the hell kind of mess just happened?

Bucky stood there for a second. He couldn’t wrap his head around what just went down in the slightest. Steve was no longer angry at him, he caught onto that. Or at least he thought that was the case. 

No, Steve was disappointed. That was far worse than hatred coming from your best friend. Coming from anyone really, but the person you’ve been joined at the hip to, for 26 years? Yeah. That punches you in the gut and knocks all the wind out of you.

Eventually, remembering Y/N was upstairs probably pacing the ground and biting her nails not knowing what was happening, he started moving to the back porch steps. 

He wasn’t even three steps into the kitchen before Y/N was around the corner rushing to him.

“What happened?” she said looking up at him and instantly putting her hands around his upper arm. “Is that blood? Did he hit you?” she said gently, but urgently as she grazed over the split lip. “Oh, I’m going to murder him,” she said through her teeth, immediately moving to the back door. 

Bucky caught her by the waist and pulled her back into him. 

“Don’t. Don’t. He’s not out there. He left,” he explained as he tugged her back into the kitchen.

“He left? He just punched you and left?” she questioned. A fire in her eyes swirling just as much as the storm Steve had in his earlier. The types of rage are completely opposite, but at the same time just as furious.

“We talked after he punched me, but can’t say I didn’t deserve it.” Disappointment dripped from his own words.

“You didn’t deserve it, B. No one deserves getting punched about something like this.” The fire started to dim as she focused her energy back on the brunette that still had her wrapped in his arms by her waist. His eyes downcast, looking as if in another world. “Hey, talk to me. What happened?” Gently she brought her hand to his cheek and convinced him to look at her. “Talk to me, please.”

They moved to the living room and sat on the couch facing each other. Bucky had almost seemed distant, as though touching or being close to her now was a crime. No doubt Steve’s words had an effect on him in the moment.

He explained pieces of what happened. Mainly just how Steve was upset thinking they were sleeping together, and when he cleared that up, he had just expressed his disappointment of the two. He was upset and deeply hurt that they felt like they had to hide this from him.

“Could he blame us though? He literally split your lip after finding out,” she motioned to him, scooting closer to place the ice covered by a washcloth they got earlier, to his lip. 

“I’ve taken harder hits, doll. And even if he got me pretty good, I could tell he was holding back at least some.” He placed his hand over hers and sent a sad smile before taking the homemade ice pack for himself. 

“This is going to be hard to come back from with him, isn’t it?” she asked, saddened by the pain she caused her brother. Bucky could see multiple thoughts running through her head as her eyes moved back and forth while looking down. “We aren’t going to end this though, are we?” 

Her tone broke Bucky’s heart hearing her say that. The pain, worry, and complete devastation of the idea was playing like a movie in her eyes. 

“What? No!” he said, quickly shutting that idea down as he dropped the rag and grabbed both her hands. “I love Steve and I would do anything for him, but I have to draw a line- Well, I have to draw a line when it affects my happiness.” She looked at him hopeful. “In the end, I know he’ll come around. I’m not going to lose you just because of this hiccup. Sure, I don’t really know how long Steve’s going to hate me, but we’ll work it through. Nothing can hurt us that bad. You know that.”

“I do, but it still worries me.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N/N. Really, he’ll come around. It’ll just take time.”

___________________

And boy was it taking its sweet ass time…

Two weeks had passed. Bucky and Y/N still went about their love life the same way. Not wanting to rub it in Steve’s face, they steered clear of Bucky’s shared home with him. Bekah had been talking to a guy herself, and spent a lot of nights over there, so they took advantage of her empty apartment when they could. 

Luckily they wouldn’t have to worry about that too long as Y/N was looking into renting a flat herself to get some of her independence back from coming home. Of course, she worried about her mom, but Sarah was sweet and said she understood and was excited for her. She was taking more shifts at the hospital anyway, so they rarely saw each other with their opposite schedules. Sarah did make her promise Sunday dinners to continue, as it was tradition. 

Speaking of, Steve had conveniently had a work thing come up each time, so he had missed the past two weeks. 

“This is so unlike him. He usually moves his work schedule around Sunday dinners, not the other way around,” Sarah sighed as she handed a bowl of a roast over to her daughter. 

“He’s not too happy with me, Ma. I think he’s avoiding me,” she mumbled. She was all happy to be over before her mom mentioned him.  

“Why would he do that? You just got home a little over 2 months ago. That’s barely anytime I would hope for you two to start a fight up. Let alone one that I’m realizing is going on two weeks,” she said with a knowing look as she sat across from Y/N.

“It’s hard to explain. He has a good reason, but he’s also being childish about it,” she said poking at the potatoes and beef on her plate. An old irish recipe. 

“Hmmm, I see.” Causally, Sarah went back to eating as if her understanding wasn’t questionable. 

“You see? What exactly do you see?” she asked tilting her head and raising an eyebrow at her mom. She knew that look. It was the, ‘mom knows everything, even if you think she doesn’t,’ look.

“It’s quite obvious to anyone who has eyes, but I’m not going to put my comments where they don’t belong.” Again, so casual as she took a drink of water and went back to eating. 

“Sarah Rogers, you little spy. What do you know?” Y/N chuckled. Her tone was joking, but deep down intrigued. 

“Why don’t you say it dear? I don’t want to have my foot in my mouth if I’m wrong,” she gestured. “Not that I’ll be wrong, but I’ll give you a chance,” she winked. 

She eyed her mom for a second. The two sending the same stares and telepathically talking.

Then it hit her. 

“Oh my GOD! You know?!” Y/N jumped almost out of her seat, but considering the table was in the way, she sat up straight and hit her knee. “Ow, shit.”

“Language,” her mom chided. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “But you knew?” her disbelief coming back. “How long have you-?”

“Lord, as soon as Bucky set his eyes on you coming home. I mean of course I wasn’t there when you saw each other for the first time after all these years, but when we had dinner that night? He was practically fawning over you,” Sarah shrugged, going back to her meal.

“He was?”

“Plain as day, Mini. Though, I wouldn’t put it past you to not notice, considering he acted almost the same when you two were in highschool.”

“What?!” Y/N jumped again. Her food was long forgotten. 

“Actually at that point, I think you both were blind to it. Bucky may not even known back then,” she tilted her head.

“Okay mom, you’re throwing a lot of things at me at once. I can’t keep up, can you elaborate some?” Y/N threw her hands up as if to stop her from moving forward anymore.

“Where to start?” Sarah put her silverware down and brought her elbows up on the table before interlocking her fingers and looking off as if watching the scenes replay in front of her. 

“Freshman year, you were part of the crew that was in charge of the cancer carnival to raise all the money for that charity. You had come home and were going on and on and on about all the different ways you had come up to raise that money. Photobooths, dunk tanks, crazy games, snowcones, and all that fun stuff. Bucky and Steve had just come in from playing basketball in the driveway and were getting something to drink. Steve laughed as you went on and teased you about how you should be put in the dunk tank, and Bucky just had this look in his eye. Pure admiration for your excitement for that specific cause. That and you told your brother off showing even more how dedicated you were.”

“That was oddly specific…” 

“Oh, I’m just getting started…” Sarah had a devilish amused look on her face. “But I guess I’ll just stick with one for each year.” She waved off. “Sophomore year, you were invited to prom from an upperclassman. Who was it?”

“Peter Quill. Ugh, I remember that. He ended up ditching me that night halfway through the prom.”

“Hmm mm, Steve had called saying they were leaving early to bring you home. You were upset and bored not knowing really anyone else there.”

“I honestly had only said yes because I wanted to go to the dance with another upperclassman and rub it in Brock’s face at the time. Bucky and Steve were seniors, so they were there too…” She thought back. Her chin in her hand as she listened to the stories. 

“Well, Steve brought you home and Bucky was with him. I guess Bucky’s girlfriend at the time had the flu or something and couldn’t go, so they went with a group of guys.” Sarah got a little sidetracked, but quickly reeled in it. “Anyway, when the night was over, they had already planned on going to Bucky’s for the night. However, I came around the corner after they dropped you off and were about to head back out, and I saw Bucky was convincing Stevie to stay here that night.”

“What? That’s why they were here? I remember that actually... There was an after party at another seniors house.” Sarah raised an eyebrow knowing what happened after parties, but not knowing that was where her son had originally planned to go. “Sorry, but you know how high schoolers are. Don’t act shocked,” she chuckled. “I remember them going, but they came home pretty early.”

“Wonder why…” Sarah sighed to herself taking another bite of food before it got cold. 

Not hearing her, Y/N went on. 

“Bucky and I talked that night at like 1 in the morning to like 4. We ran into each other in the kitchen getting a late night snack, and it turned into a whole deep talk,” she thought back. “One of the few times we had a conversation like adults instead of pushing each other's buttons.”

“Yes, and you were so stunned and surprised by it, you gushed about it to me later,” Sarah nodded. “Little did you know, you had woken me up at the time and when I came to see what all the noise was in the kitchen, you and Bucky were laughing about something on the kitchen floor with your backs propped up on the cabinets. A stash of junk food sitting between you two as you talked.”

“But what does that have to do with-?”

“I came in when you were going on and on about a new history topic that you had dived into that month. You didn’t even notice him with wide eyes and absolute fondness for how smart and passionate you were on the subject. You were too busy talking to notice, I’m sure,” she laughed. 

Y/N had to think back a little further for that memory, but it popped up. “Oh God, I was going on about the progression of execution styles in the Roman times,” she threw her head in her hands of embarrassment. 

“Yeah, crazy thing to be looking at a girl like that in that kind of conversation. Talking about chopping people’s heads off wouldn’t be something I see a boy fawning over, and he looked at you like it was the most amazing story to be told. But then again, there he was. Completely blind himself.”

“Wow… I forgot about that moment. I remember the night, but some details are a little fuzzy. Not that one…” she whispered. 

“And the way you talked about it the next day? You had the same look. Subtle and hidden, but deep down I could see the wonder in your eyes.”

Y/N smiled as she leaned forward like a child at story time. “What about Junior year?”

“Let’s see. By then Bucky and Steve had gone overseas. We didn’t see much of them…”  Sarah was slightly saddened. She was proud of her son in those moments, but the fear and worry that comes with sending a child into war isn’t that fond of a feeling. 

Y/N reached across grabbing her moms hand and giving her an encouraging soft smile. Clearing her throat she started again.

 “In saying that, there may have been a moment in person, but they only came back for a month that whole year. I didn’t like that year,” she shook her head. “Who sent you all those letters though?” She asked looking back with that same knowing look. 

“Steve… and Bucky. I wrote to them both, and I was surprised when Bucky asked me to write to him as well.”

“Didn’t expect that one, hmm?” Sarah smiled. “I don’t know what was written in them, for all I know he was just sending you jokes and teasing you from over the sea like your brother did here and there... But I have a feeling there were some personal things said too.” 

“I actually kept all of those. They are in a box in my room. I have Steves in there too,” she smiled fondly as if she had completely forgotten them. Though she could never actually do that. She remembers very well all the excitement of running and checking the mail in hopes of another one being delivered. From both of them. 

Her mom was right, there were a few teasing and goofy ones, but the longer he was over there, the more serious they got. There were some crazy terrifying stories and confessions to fear in those. He had mentioned he was only writing to his family and her, but she always wondered why he sent her things like that and not his family. 

She had asked Becca once about a letter they had received, and they were sweet, but they disguised the sense of fear and longing to be home. He didn’t want his family to worry. 

That’s when Y/N started taking their writing more seriously. She would practically let him vent and write out all his struggles and frustrations while over there, and Y/N would send back distractions of random history facts (which by the way, he asked for personally even if he jested her at home for them). Then she would tell him about her week, something else he asked for, and try to send words of wisdom and reassurance for his time. 

He appreciated those and Y/N appreciated him trusting her with those thoughts. It’s not like he could send them to Steve when Steve was going through his own war over there with him.

How did she not pick up on the rise of finding respect for the other during then? The start of full-on admiration. 

“Those letters stopped coming in the next year,” Y/N deflated in her spot. The next wave of memories contained her senior year. “Well, they came, but I never could get around to writing back with everything happening.”

“You’re graduate year… Steve came back home after we got the news. It took him a while to get approved, but they dismissed him from duty out of how much he had already served in his short time there. Brave man, your brother,” she says chuckling to cover the tears that were already forming in her eyes. Her daughter's eyes matched. She grabbed her hand again, this time giving it a loving squeeze. “That was a very hard year for all of us.”

“Steve came back, but Bucky had to stay. But he somehow got time off for a few weeks to come visit…”

“Remember his first visit?” Sarah said with a sad smile.

Thinking back to that time of grief and sadness, she really had to dig. She didn’t really dust off those memories often. It wasn’t really a time you would want to look back on.

“The hospital,” Y/N eventually said in a hushed airless whisper. “How did I forget that?”

“Those were moments one doesn’t really want to recall often,” Sarah said with a new tear falling. She had a smile on her face, but it was sad and soft. Nothing stemming from joy. 

“We had just got the word,” she gasped faintly, trying to suck back the air that had left her body thinking of the horrible night. “After the surgery, one of too many, the doctors told us…” Taking a second, she hadn’t said this in a while as the family was hush hush when talking about the last days. “We only had a few months with him.”

________________________

5 years ago: 

“He… He wha-?” Steve stammered out. “But he was in remission, not too long ago. He was fine!”

He was furious with the new information. He knew there was a chance of these specific results as his father had a new surgery every month for the cancer. Trying to locate it, trying to cut it out, trying to shrink it, trying to get rid of it with all their might. Every surgery you go in, you’re about to learn if it’s worse or better. And this? This was the worse they had gotten yet. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. You know I don’t want to tell you this news, but cancer is a horrible horrible demon we have to face in this world unfortunately,” the doctor said. He had been with them the whole journey so the family had grown rather close with Bruce Banner. Someone their father actually worked alongside with. “Just when you’re doing better, it changes things up. I will say with all the past surgeries, we probably got you a few more months then expected. We believe a few months ago, without the treatment he's undergone so far, he would no longer be here with us today.”

“So we bought him a few months. What does that matter for, if it didn’t fix it all?” Steve shouted. The anger wasn’t toward the doctor. He knew that and they knew that. But he needed someone to blame for the shit he was being handed. He couldn’t just yell at the universe. 

“Steven,” Sarah had said softly. Speaking for the first time since Steve had started his rant. “Calm down honey. Shouting and screaming isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“Nothing’s going to get us anywhere apparently,” he hissed. His hand coming up on his head as he looked up. After a second, he harshly ran his hand down his face and looked at his mom again. He could see her guard start to fall and Steve couldn’t handle having to be strong for them right now. He was too hurt. It was too painful. He was going to break and he couldn’t let them see him do that. “Ugh, I need air. I need to get some air. I-I can’t-.” With that, he walked in long strides to the elevator and the exit. 

Sarah shook her head at the tears escaping without her consent. Turning to Y/N, she saw her youngest looking slightly downwards, frozen. Her nails were already being bitten from her nervous tick, and her eyes showing she was no longer on this earth mentally.

“Y/N,” Sarah said, taking a deep breath and standing taller. “Why don’t you go wait in the waiting room? Sit down, ok. I’m just going to talk to Dr. Banner real fast, hmm?” 

No answer. She patted her shoulder making him jump slightly as if she had never consciously been there to start. She gave her a nod and Y/N nodded back and started mindlessly heading to the waiting room with her arms folded tight across her body for comfort. Any comfort…

“Y/N?” 

She had been mindlessly looking at the ground in the chair she sat in. She couldn’t tell if it had been 5 minutes or an hour later from leaving the room with her mom.

“Y/N/N?”

That finally got her attention and she turned to see Bucky standing with his helmet in hand and jean jacket half-hazardly shifting off his shoulder from racing in from his bike. 

“B-Buck?” she said softly sitting straighter. 

Bucky sent her a sad smile as he walked to her, but he made it about 4 steps before she was running into his arms and clinging to him like he was air itself. 

“They can’t help him, Buck,” she finally said after crying for a few minutes while he ran a hand down her back softly and let her get it all out. “They said they can’t do anything further,” she pulled back enough to look up. Her arms around his middle and his around her shoulders. “We have a few months…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky sighed, finally getting the news he was waiting to hear, but this wasn’t what he was ready for. He could feel her heartbeat get faster, and at first, he just thought it was the hint to another crying session about to erupt. 

In which case, bring it on. He wanted to help her like she had helped him with all those letters of support. But then he noticed her start to slightly hyperventilate. He knew what those two combos usually come out to and he wished he didn’t.  

He brought her to a chair he was planning on sitting her in, but instead she plopped herself on the ground. Bucky instantly moved down there with her and looked her over. 

“Hey, hey, sweetheart. You’re ok. I got you. Take a deep breath,” he said, bringing her to sit in his lap and hugged her as tight as he could. The feeling of pressure was a calming mechanism for anxiety attacks. 

“I-I c-c-an’t,” she stuttered out with hiccups that were forming from her lungs needing air. 

“Yes, you can. Focus, doll.” He started doing the breathing exercises himself as a way to guide her since their bodies were intertwined. She needs to sync to his breathing. 

She stuttered a little, but her breathing was slowly calming down. 

“That’s it… You’ve got it. In and out,” he coached, feeling with each sentence she relaxed more and more. “You’re ok. I got ya. You’re doing great Y/N.”

Eventually she was back to normal. Well, not really. An anxiety attack like that is the kind that leaves you winded afterwards. Completely draining you from energy. 

He sat there and rocked her gently in their spot. Her back backed up to his chest and Bucky’s legs spread out with hers inside them as he kept his arms wrapped around her torso. The pressure helps, it really does. 

He whispered reassuring words while he played with her hair and then she leaned back and was reaching peak calmness. She turned her head on his shoulder and he looked down at her with his crystal eyes. Their faces inches apart, but nothing other than sorrow in their body.

“They said to be glad we had that long with him as every minute counts. Make all the memories you can in that time...” She closed her eyes for a second taking another deep breath before looking back at him. “How can you make memories you would want to have not so sad knowing the exact day your father could die? What good memories come from that?”

Bucky physically felt her heart in her chest break as if they shared the same one. The emotion he was reading in her eyes this time was one of the few that Bucky could never pinpoint. It was fear, sadness, depression, and longing all rolled into a scared Y/E/C eye colored girl’s orbs.

“You’re allowed to be upset Y/N. You don’t have to fake happiness during this time. Your emotions are there to be felt... But at the end of the day, would you want to look back at more fake happy memories or true and real happiness?” Bucky said. 

She wanted to make the next days her unhappy ones and leave it at that. He was right, she should and could feel sad and mad now. This situation called for it. But she didn’t want them to take up the majority of her last memories with her dad.

“Hey, you got Stevie and I,” he whispered in her ear as she turned forward again. 

“Steve just yelled at our doctors for almost 15 minutes straight from deniel and then ran out the door like a sissy,” her voice monotone, but he could hear the upset nature behind her words. “Steve’s just as messed up as me.”

“One, you’re not messed up in the least. Two, you are human. Shitty things happen and we have to go through it in each our own way. Three, no grieving process is the same. You’re allowed to scream in your pillow cause you're mad. Or cry for hours on end because you can’t comprehend it. You’re allowed to go eat a whole pint of ice cream by yourself because you're sad. Hell, I’ll join ya,” he squeezed her hand that he had interlocked together on their right side. A light start of a chuckle came out and she squeezed it back. 

“As long as you don’t insist on Rocky Road.”

“Really? I’m coming to your cry session and you’re banning me from my favorite ice cream? Some cry party,” he faked hurt. 

She let out an actual laugh and turned back to him. “I may have a cry party or two…” He nodded, showing he was proud of her for feeling that was ok and agreed with it. Her eyes showed the actual sadness behind the temporary humor, it was still there swimming around. Her smile wasn’t masking anything. “I guess you can pick your flavor you want to binge on. I get to judge you though if it sucks,” she joked.

She was distracting herself and he was ok with that. He would keep in that direction as long as she needed. And right now, she didn’t want to think about the inevitable. Remember, more happy than sad at the end. 

“What brand are we going for?” she asked. He wrapped his arms over her shoulders as she laid back on his chest in their sitting position. Her arms holding onto them in the front like the anchor that he was acting like. 

“Um, is that even a question?” he gasped. “I have good taste, Miss. Rogers. What brand do you think I go for?” 

“I’m going to say with that pretentiousness, that it’s Ben and Jerry’s,” she grinned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Nothing beats Ben and Jerry’s,” he nodded proud in his choice.

“Ok, but hear me out… Halo.” He looked at her like she was crazy. “It's like low calorie ones that are really good and kinda healthier than regular ice cream.”

“Darling, if I’m bingeing on some ice cream, you bet your ass I’m going to go all out. No low cal, shit. I want all the brownie batter.”

“Geez, you really are an ice cream snob,” she laughed more. “Guess you’ll have to try mine though because I promise you’ll join the dark side.”

“Dark side?” he asked. 

“Yeah, cause you’re eating healthy while eating ice cream, one of the most sugared things to exist. Actually, get this, In the 1880’s they invented the sundae, and after that, the amount of sugar we started adding to our toppings every decade, just kept going up in sugar.” When she finished her little fact splurge, Bucky was looking down at like she was crazy, but still smiling. 

“You’re strange, you know that? What normal person memorizes random facts like the year the ice cream sundae was invented? Or, what was it the other day?” he thought back.

“Oh, how the entire earth’s population can fit inside Los Angeles,” she remembered. “Then that led to talking about global warming, and then-…”She began listing off all the random things that followed after another. 

Her mom had peaked out the curtain 5 minutes ago to check on Y/N, and found her wrapped up in his arms comforted and then eventually laughing. They needed a little joy that night. So she took in every laugh Y/n let out followed by Bucky laughing or joking. Every single one is what got her through that night…

________________

“That’s when you saw it?” Y/N asked awestruck. She did remember that. That was one of her core memories with Bucky. She always glimpsed back to it when she was sad. It was advice she took seriously. You choose how many bad days you have. Choose wisely. 

“That’s when I knew it,” Sarah corrected. 

“Knew it? I thought you were talking about how he looked at me differently. What do you mean, knew it?” she asked, confused. 

“I had seen it all the time, but that’s when I knew he was head over heels for you. Seeing these things warmed my heart, but knowing it, gave me a whole new hope. As long as Bucky was there, you would be ok. He would make sure of that.”

“I thought that was so much longer ago…” Y/N said. “I guess I repressed it.”

“Bucky was your rock from day one, sweetheart. As soon as the world got dangerous for you, he became a huge protector over you. He checked in on you when he came over, he made you laugh, he knows how to push your buttons, but you love it. He’s a good kid Y/N.”

“I know. Which brings me to Steve being an ass and throwing a hissy fit about it.”

“Your brother is in shock right now. It was something he clearly did not see a mile away. Learning about it made him a little upset. I’ll talk to him.”

“Ma, I don’t need you to talk to him. You do that and he’ll be even more mad and think I tattle taled on him. Child,” she huffed. 

“Fine, then you better tell him. Because like it or not, I’m going to have my family dinners on Sunday, and I want BOTH of my children there. Not just one every once and awhile. Plus, you’re moving out in just a few weeks so I need you to get this done cause I’ll miss you,” she smirked. 

“Ok…” Y/N groaned basically being told to apologize and make amends to her big brother by her mom. She wouldn’t put it past her mom to ban Y/n from late night reading for punishment of not fixing it. She’d done it in highschool. She’ll do it again. “I’ll talk to him as soon as I can corner him. He’s been avoiding Bucky and I like the plague.”

“Well, then let’s set a trap.”

“Mom!”

“What? You need to fix it sooner rather than later and I want my kids to not hate each other. So, I’ll invite him over tomorrow for a makeup dinner and say you’re going out and won’t be here,” she started planning. “He won’t say no because I won’t let him. So he’ll come and you stay in your room until we’re settled, and then ta-da! He’s trapped.”

“Did you have this already typed up or something?” Y/N pulled back curiously shocked. Shaking her head out at her crazy organized mom. “Who’s to say he doesn’t stand up and walk out? I could about 99% see it going that way,” she nodded. 

“Honey, I’ll be home. He’s not leaving. Not while I’m here at least,” she winked. 

“You should become a serial killer as a side hobby. They would never catch you with how well planned out you are,” she teased her mom. 

“I thought about it once, but didn’t go my way,” Sarah stood up walking to the sink, winking.

“Mom! You’re on a roll tonight,” Y/N laughed loudly, throwing a little pea at her. 

“Hey, you make my kitchen floor a mess, and I may reconsider that side hobby,” she said pointing to the pea rolling away. 

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Y/N chuckled.

(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)

I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.

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[cevans16]

Jealous

Summary: You’re filming a steamy scene but why does Sebastian get jealous?

You played the role of Tony Stark’s colleague from Stark Industries who had then become an Avenger. You were also in the role of a vampire in The Vampire Diaries, trying your best to shoot two different projects at once wasn’t so easy but you enjoyed it. You were single at the moment due to being busy but that didn’t mean you had a long-time secret crush on one of your co-stars.

“CUT! Okay great job (Y/N)!!” the director yelled for you when you nailed a scene for the Avengers movie. “Sweet, perfect timing, I’ll see you guys later!” you said while grabbing your purse to head out to The Vampire Diaries set which was about twenty minutes away. “Have fun!” Scarjo said to you wiggling her eyebrows. “I am so nervous, do not remind me” you replied chuckling, “You’ll be fine” she assured you, “What are you nervous about?” Sebastian walked up to ask you, “Ohhh nothing...” you were embarrassed to explain even though you knew he’d understand since you were all actors. “Do tell him” Scarlett said smirking, “oKAy but you can’t laugh at me Sebastian” you said, “I can’t promise anything” he said winking at you, “I’m going to film a ..... ‘steamy’ scene today” you said feeling yourself blush. You didn’t notice but Sebastian’s smirk slowly faded away from his face. Scarlett caught it though, almost everyone except you or Sebastian knew about each others’ crushes. “Well, that is a bit uhmmm yeah good luck” he said and then walked away, “I thought he was going to give me advice” you said. 

Twenty-Five Minutes Later

You arrived on set, it was only going to be you and Ian Somerhalder since they needed your scene as soon as possible. “Okay it’s going to be okay its going to be okay” you kept saying to yourself over and over again to calm your nerves. “(Y/N), we’re ready for you in about 5 minutes” one of the assistants told you through your trailer door. “Okay thank you!”, a few moments later you heard a knock on the door, you pulled your robe on tighter to open the door, it was Ian. “Hey, so I know we’ve talked about this before but if you have any boundaries let me know” he said genuinely, “Thank you Ian I appreciate it, I am nervous but I trust you” you replied smiling at him. “I think we should just go for it” you added, “Okay, if you are comfortable with that then I’m all yours” he said winking at you, “See you in a few” he said. 

You walked on set, it was inside Ian’s character’s(Damon) room, the first part of the scene would be you and ‘Damon’ making out. The second part of the scene would be you guys doing the deed but still keeping it a bit PG. You guys were filming the second part, you and Ian let yourself go, professionally of course, Ian was biting on your neck and you were doing the same thing to him since your characters were vampires, he was also sucking on your skin, leaving marks here and there. You thought it was going to take longer but after two take for each scene you guys were able to leave for the day. “Are you okay?” Ian checked in with you since he knew it was your first time filming something like this. “Of course! Thank you so much for making me feel so comfortable” you said to him, “Hey, would you like to get drinks with some of my friends and I in a bit” you asked him. He smiled at you, “Of course, let me know when you’re ready”. 

Meanwhile

“I can’t believe she is going to do a sex scene” Sebastian huffed, “She isn’t going to because she already did” Lizzie answered, “And why are you in such a mood about it, she’s not your girlfriend Sebastian” she added. “I think he wishes she could be but he doesn’t have the guts to tell her” Mackie teased, Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I don’t like her that way, she’s just...” Sebastian didn’t finish his sentence when he saw you walk in, in his eyes you always looked amazing, you had on a black leather jacket with jeans and boots to match and a navy blouse. He felt his heart drop when he saw your costar Ian walk in behind you too. “Oh looks like she brought a friend” Mackie said nudging him on his elbow. He observed you two while you were at the bar waiting for a drink. You and Ian practically had the same leather jacket on, both smiling at each other, deep in conversation, at one point Sebastian saw Ian put his hand on your lower back as you two headed towards their table.

“I survived!” You yelled in excitement saying hi to everyone at the table, “guys this is Ian”, you then introduced him to everyone else. You both sat across from Mackie and Sebastian, “So how’d it go?” Lizzie asked, “Great!” you and Ian said at the same time, “Jinx” you said, “here’s your drink my lady” Ian joked by sliding you his drink. “A little too great apparently, what’s on your neck?” Scarlett pointed out. You moved your hair away from your neck to expose the marks that Ian had left, “yeah it’s uhmm Ian’s fault” you added laughing. Mackie could feel Sebastian tense up next to him, Ian seemed to have caught it. “So Sebastian, right? (Y/N) talks about you all the time, I’m glad I can finally put a face to the name" Ian said. “Oh she does? What does she say?” Mackie asked curiously, you felt your cheeks heat up, “I don’t only talk about Sebastian, I talk about you all” you said quickly, taking a sip of Ian’s drink, you didn’t see it but Ian’s expression showed everyone that you were full of shit. When Ian had first met you he thought Sebastian was your boyfriend because you talked about him so much.

You all were having a great time after working so hard the past months, you had noticed that Sebastian was rather quiet this night. You had gone to the bathroom, giving Mackie a chance to get to the bottom of something, “So Ian, what are your intentions with (Y/N)?”, Ian took a sip of his drink, “Well I think she’s a great girl, sexy....funny, the whole package but I don’t see her that way, I mean would I ask her out on a date, yes, but I think she has her eye on someone else” he said smirking. Sebastian felt his heart jump, he didn’t know you had a crush on someone, he wondered who you had time to see enough to develop a crush for. “Right, okay” Mackie replied. You had come back but you stopped next to Sebastian, “Are you okay?” you asked him, he didn’t look at you right away, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”, “You’re really quiet tonight” you pointed out, causing him to blush, “I’m tired” he said, you didn’t believe him but you figured he didn’t want to talk about it. 

A Month Later

You were excited since the next season of The Vampire Diaries had been released. Ian usually set up a small party as a “premiere” for each new episode between costars and friends, you had invited the Avengers cast, most of them were able to make it. You guys showed up early enough to mingle and settle in, you knew the steamy scene was soon. You were seated on the couches next to Chris Evans and Anthony Mackie, Sebastian was next to Chris. 

Bloodstream by Stateless began playing, the sex scene was starting. Yours and Ian’s character appeared on the screen in his room. He pushed you on the bed while you took your jacket off, you unbuckled his pants. He was then on top of you, kissing you on your neck, you were letting out moans. Sebastian felt his blood boil both down south and in his body, he was turned on hearing you but he was also getting annoyed that Ian was the one kissing. You character straddled Ian’s character under the covers, both of you moaning, your fangs coming out, Ian’s character was nibbling on your neck and gripping your hips. Ian then turned around to wink at you, that set Sebastian off causing him to bolt out of his chair. You looked up confused to see him leave, you turned to look at Mackie, “I don’t know, go check on him” he said trying to keep a smile from showing. 

“Are you okay Sebastian?” you asked him, he was pacing back and forth in the kitchen, “Yeah I’m fine” he said annoyed. You crossed your arms, huffing, “You know I’m sick of you telling me you’re fine when I know that’s not the case, cut the bullshit”, “Fine....its HIM” he said motioning outside, “I don’t follow you”, “Your friend or whatever he is, Ian, I know you two are either hooking up or something”, “Well not that I have to share anything like that but no we are not, the only physical things we have done were for this episode, why do you care anyways?”, “I like you” he whispered, “What? I can’t hear you Sebastian”, “I said I like you”. You stood still for a moment trying to process what he said, “So you have nothing to say?” he asked. You looked up at him, “Okay”, Sebastian was about to leave when you grabbed his arm, “Wait! You just sprung this on me” you said chuckling, “Look Sebastian, I like you too but you can’t act too jealous because if you do it’s not going to work” you added. “I’m sorry I acted like a dick, I was jealous about Ian being so attentive to you”, “You call that attentive, he’s just a flirty guy, he means no harm, he actually thought you were my boyfriend at first” you giggled, “Why?”, “Because I ‘talked about you a lot’“ you said blushing. Sebastian pulled you closer to him, leaving his hand on your waist, “So (Y/N), will you go out with me?” he asked, “Yes I will Sebs”, he smiled so bright at you leaning in to give you a kiss on your nose. “So does this means you two bozos finally figured it out?” Mackie asked you guys. “Yes” you said in unison.

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Chapter 6

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader (feat. EXO members)

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo

Masterlist

You didn’t sleep. It just wasn’t possible, not when your mind was still going 500 miles per hour replaying every little detail of your time together in Baekhyun’s office. The way he sucked on the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, how you felt him dig into your hip as he’d sandwiched you between himself and the wall. Your entire stomach felt like it might leave your body if you didn’t get a hold of yourself. What end it would come out of, you had yet to decide on. 

The night dragged on and on and eventually you gave up, knowing it wasn’t going to happen. Sleep was not an option when your brain felt like it was running a marathon with you powerless to stop it. The thought just would not stop. Your own hormone filled brain had you by the balls.

Eventually you dragged your groggy self into the shower in an attempt to wake back up. The second you felt the hot water pour over your skin, you felt some of the tension in your muscles dissipate. It was like you could finally breathe deeply again, the heat forcing your body to relax, at least physically.

 By the time you were out of the shower it was around 5:00am. When you stepped out and began to dry yourself off you noticed the trail of dark purple marks going all the way from your neck down to your collarbones. Damn genetics for making you bruise so easily. You internally cursed yourself for letting him leave marks on you at all, but of course that had been the last thing on your mind in the moment. Mia would immediately have something to say when she saw them too, and you were not ready to recant the events of the night prior out loud to her. 

Seeing as it was already the early morning you decided it would be best to just get ready and get out of the house so you wouldn’t have to face her yet. You did your usual routine, and decided that after all the stress you’d been through in the last several hours, you’d treat yourself to breakfast at your favorite bakery. It was a quaint little place only a few blocks away that had amazing croissants and coffee and you figured it would at least temporarily help block out the crippling thoughts of his teeth grazing against the skin of your neck. Why the fuck did it have to feel that good?? 

You didn’t bother trying to cover the marks. It was far too warm still to wear anything like a turtleneck and you knew they were too dark for concealer to work. Damn his beautiful lips for creating something so visible yet so blasphemous.

After finishing your usual morning routine, you headed to the café and ordered your favorite. 

Croissant in hand, you were flipping through a book, sitting and enjoying your coffee when you heard your name, and looked up to see a familiar man, tall and slightly dorky looking, gazing down at you. 

“Yeah that's me, Chanyeol, right?” You asked.

“Yeah...” He stared down at you with an unreadable look on his face, and you wondered if he would force you to talk to him. You had only met Chanyeol once before, the first night he brought Baekhyun to your work. “Can I sit down?” 

“Uh... I guess. How do you know my name?” 

In all honesty you really did not want him to sit down with you. Of course he would want to talk about Baekhyun. You’d have rather poured your hot coffee down your pants than talked to him in that moment. This was exactly what you’d come here to avoid but the universe just had not been on your side lately. 

“Baekhyun told me. I’m glad I ran into you, I’ve never seen you here before, I always get my coffee here in the morning.”

“Well I’m usually not much of a morning person.” You replied, eyes on your coffee as you raised the mug to your lips, hoping it would magically invigorate you with the energy to have this conversation. It didn’t. 

“I actually need to talk to you about him.”

You immediately groaned in frustration. “Does this have to happen right now? I’m trying to have a relaxing morning and I’d really rather not talk about him right now.” You looked at him with a face that more or less said ‘please for the love of god just leave me alone’ but unfortunately for you he was quite determined, so he sat down across from you anyway. This stranger was really about to ruin your desperate attempt at a peaceful morning. 

“Just.. please be careful with him.” He started. “He’s the best person I know and he’s been through a lot recently. I don’t know what your intentions are with him but he likes you a lot and I don’t want to see him get hurt even more than he already has been.” 

You sighed. You could see where he was coming from. Anyone would be worried about their friend if they were in his situation. He probably thought you still only wanted Baekhyun’s money, that you were just the stripper who hit the jackpot with a guy who’s rich and nice. It was a realistic thing to be worried about. Customers like him were definitely the most profitable and girls would string them along all the time knowing how attached they were and take their money anyway. The more they thought they actually had a chance, the more they were generally willing to spend, too.  

“If you think I’m just using him for his money, I’m really not. I don’t know how much he’s told you, but last time he paid me I even tried to give it back.”

“Yeah he told me about that, so I figured you weren’t all bad, but still. And he talks to me about you a lot. It almost makes me regret bringing him to the club in the first place. If you end up screwing him over I’ll feel like it’s my fault too you know. That’s why I knew I had to say something when I saw you.” 

“You’re a good friend. But you really don’t need to be worried.” 

He raised an eyebrow, obviously not convinced. “Does he know you’re seeing other people?” 

You gave him a puzzled look, but quickly understood when his eyes drifted down to the marks decorating the skin of your neck. You knew he was only asking to protect his friend, but the accusing look on his face irked you anyway. Blood was already rushing to your cheeks at the thought of having to tell him where they’d really come from. 

“I, um, I’m actually not seeing other people...” You crossed your arms over your chest, slumping down into your seat in a subconscious effort to hide. By now you knew you were probably red all over, easily giving you away. The feeling of dread made its way back into your stomach, and your croissant didn’t even seem appealing to you anymore. “You haven’t talked to him since last night have you?” 

 His eyes went so wide you worried for a moment that they might pop right out of his skull and roll across the table and into your lap. 

“Did he..?” You nodded slowly, desperately trying to avoid giving him any of the thrilling details. “You guys slept together? You didn’t just come from his place did you? You didn’t just leave? I swear to god if you-”

“No!” You quickly clarified. “We didn’t sleep together, and I never went to his house, we just, um..” Your guts felt like they were about to end up on the table again, but Chanyeol was still looking at you expectantly. “I needed help with an assignment so I went to his office last night... we kissed, but that’s all.” 

“Quite some kiss it seems...” He said staring at the path of blue and purple that went all the way from below your ear to the hem of your shirt. And oh how he was right. It really had been something. Never in your life had a kiss affected you as much as Baekhyun’s had. Of course it had been much much more than just one little kiss, but there was no way you were going to say any more. The feeling of your stomach desperately trying to escape your body was too strong and you liked this café too much to get kicked out for vomiting all over the booth. 

“I thought more was gonna happen but he kind of threw me out of his office before we could, you know...” 

“He threw you out?” 

“Yeah, like grabbed my arm, dragged me into the hallway, and slammed the door behind him.” 

“Jesus what a dumbass.” You heard him whisper. “Do you like him the same way he likes you though?” You hesitated for a moment, but nodded again, and immediately noticed how his face lit up. “You know I really thought you were just going with it for the money. I’m glad you actually care about him as a person.” 

 “I mean I’ve known him a while now, how could I not...” You found yourself staring down at your hands as you fidgeted nervously, avoiding eye contact with the man in front of you. “Even if he wasn’t my professor now, he’s still just a good guy. I’ve never had a customer like him before. As dumb as it is, I’d be stupid not to like him, he makes it too easy.”

At that point Chanyeol was smiling widely back at you. “He’s an amazing guy, and he’s crazy about you. You won’t regret it.” A smile plastered itself onto your face as well, satisfied with his comment. “You know at first when me and the other guys found out he was coming back to see you every weekend we gave him so much shit.” 

You laughed, because you could imagine it perfectly. It honestly was quite stupid of him to get involved with a stripper of all people. You saw how many times guys would try to start something real with you or the other girls at your work only to leave with a broken heart and empty pockets, but that was just a part of your job. When you were first starting out you’d feel bad for them sometimes, but eventually you got used to it. These men weren’t exactly the pinnacle of society anyway, you told yourself. It didn’t help that those guys were always willing to spend more money too. They were really just screwing themselves over. It’s silly to expect anything real from a woman whose job it is to take money in exchange for temporary affection. Technically Baekhyun was also just another one of those stupid men who got themselves in too deep with someone completely unattainable, only now you actually liked him too.

“He is an idiot for that, for sure, but I’m just as much of an idiot for liking him back so I guess he won.” You laughed together, and you were beginning to feel much more at ease with him and with the conversation, thank heavens. 

“Thanks for letting me sit down, you really have no idea how much of a relief this is.” You rolled your eyes, you hadn’t allowed him to do anything, he’d just done it anyway. “I was so worried I got him into something that would hurt him even more. Women tend to really fuck him over.” 

His last statement puzzled you. Was he talking about Baekhyun’s ex? Sure what she did was awful, but had things really ended that badly? From the brief talk you’d had with him about her he didn’t seem to be that affected anymore but that was only one conversation. 

“Can I ask what the deal is with his ex?” Chanyeol leaned back, crossing his arms. His brows were furrowed, looking agitated by your question. “Sorry if that’s too far but I feel like that’s kind of important and I know almost nothing about her.” 

“She’s fucking bitch is all you need to know.” He scoffed. “They were together for 4 years and the whole time she treated him like a doormat. I never liked her. But it’s not really my place to talk.” 

“Oh... Sorry for asking, It’s just I found some pictures on Facebook when I looked him up. They looked really happy, she’s really pretty too.” You felt slightly embarrassed at your own words, but the curiosity was killing you. 

“Sure she looks nice but she’s a goddamn demon on the inside and they definitely weren’t happy, although she loved to make it look like they were so their families would keep being supportive. He deserves someone who actually gives a shit about him as a person, and not just what he can offer them. He cares about the people around him too much sometimes. Even when she’d treat him like shit he’d make excuses for her, saying she was dealing with things too, or some other bullshit.” 

Your heart ached. “Was he really upset when she left?”

You heard him let out a disappointed sigh, and knew the answer was yes. “Of course he knew she was only trying to use him for his money at that point, he’s not stupid, but when you’ve spent years of your life trying to make something work it still sucks when it ends. His parents really liked her too, they would get onto him all the time about why he hadn’t married her yet or given them grandkids. Thank god he didn’t. I think that’s what made it really sting when she left though. She didn’t just betray him she betrayed them too.” 

“What a bitch...” You were in disbelief that anyone could treat someone as wonderful as him so cruelly. The idea of him having possibly married her made you feel sick all over again.

“Yeah, she’s pretty much a megacunt. Thank god you seem to have a conscience.” He joked.

“I’m not gonna hurt him if I can help it. He’s so sweet I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if I did.” 

“Well I’m glad to hear it.” He gave you a deep-dimpled smile and you laughed. “I’ll leave you alone now, I have work to get to, but thank you again for talking to me.”

“No problem.” You smiled back. “Hopefully you like me better than her already.” You joked. 

“That doesn’t take much” he laughed “but yes, definitely.” He got up and waved you goodbye, leaving you to enjoy the rest of your breakfast. 

In the end you were glad you’d run into him. You hadn’t given much thought to what Baekhyun’s friends might think about you, but it was a relief that the person closest to him didn’t just think you were using him for his money anymore. Obviously everything about your relationship with Baekhyun looked terrible on paper, and being able to explain your intentions made it feel like there was weight lifted off your chest that you hadn’t even known was there. 

~

Baekhyun woke up to his phone blowing up with messages from Chanyeol. Unlike you, he’d slept like a baby once the excitement of the evening had worn off a bit. 

Chanyeol: (7:23am) Just got done talking to your new gf, you seemed to have a fun night. About time you finally made a move on her.   

Chanyeol: (7:46am) You better call me when you wake up and tell me what the hell went down though. 

Chanyeol: (8:37am) Dude you’re killing me 

Baekhyun groaned when he read the messages, mind immediately thinking about all the embarrassing things Chanyeol could’ve possibly told you. Of course he talked to his best friend about you all the time, but you didn’t need to know that. His hands felt clammy as he began typing out a response

Baekhyun: (9:04am) What the hell did you guys talk about??? 

Chanyeol: (9:06am) She didn’t need to say much, you made things pretty clear with the way you attacked her neck, that shit looked intense. Good for you bro. 

Baekhyun quickly dialed his friend’s number, and not even one ring in he picked up. 

“What the fuck?” Baekhyun started, a bit too loud for how early it still was. “Why were you talking to her? What did you say to her? I swear to god if you told her some dumb shit I’m gonna-” 

“Relax! You know I’m a good wingman! I ran into her at the café and just wanted to make sure she wasn’t still leading you on for the money or anything so we talked for a little while. But she seems to genuinely care about you, I think she likes you a lot actually.” 

Baekhyun felt his heart skip a beat at his friend’s statement. Of course he figured you liked him after what had happened in his office, especially since you’d said it to him directly, but the fact that you had discussed your feelings for him with his best friend made it feel even better. He still thought that maybe you’d regret it in the morning, or it was just hormones that led you to act the way you did.

“What did she say?” 

“Well at first I thought she’d let someone else mark her up like that so I called her out, but then she told me what happened in your office last night. Well, sort of.” 

“Sort of?” 

“She didn’t seem to really want to talk about it in detail so I didn’t make her, but any girl would have to be crazy about a guy to him them maul their neck like that. I thought y’all had gotten into some weird BDSM shit at first. And why the fuck did you kick the poor girl out of your office? Are you dumb? You were totally about to get some.” 

“Because we were in my office.” 

“So? That’s pretty hot if you ask me.” 

“I just... I like her too much to end up fucking on the desk in my office like some sort of horny animal. I need to do it right, she deserves that much.” 

“That’s up to you, but man you must have some serious self control. She’s really hot.” 

“Watch it buddy.” Baekhyun said, trying to sound as threatening as one can over the phone. “What else did she tell you?”

“That was pretty much it about last night, she did ask about Jisoo though. I’m telling you she’s into you if she wants to know about your ex.” 

Even just the mention of her was enough to sour Baekhyun’s good mood. 

“What did you tell her about her?” 

“That I think she’s a massive bitch, obviously. And that you deserve better than that.”

Baekhyun stayed silent. He knew Chanyeol was right of course, she wasn’t a good person and he was better off now without her in his life but the way he talked about her still bothered him. 

“You don’t have to call her a bitch every time she comes up, I know she’s far from perfect but she’s still a person you know.” 

“Why are you even defending her? She fucked you up. And you actually seem to have found a girl who isn’t going to step all over you this time. So don’t ruin it.” 

“I’m not going to. Or at least I’m gonna try my best. I like this girl a lot.” 

“I know, you never shut the hell up about her. And she likes you enough to be stressing about your ex, so relax. She’s into you.” 

A small smile pulled at Baekhyun’s lips. After all this time, you really did like him. How fucking cool was that? The hottest girl at the strip club, who he’d fallen head over heels for like some dumb kid, was into him for real now. 

“Thanks bro, I needed to hear that.” 

“I know, I’m the best. So when are you asking her out?” 

Baekhyun felt stupid for not having considered that yet. Technically he was still just your professor/customer with benefits, but that definitely wasn’t the title he wanted to keep forever. 

“Shit I don’t know... Where do I even take her? What do I do? I haven’t had to do this in years.” 

“She’s a college student, I’m sure a nice dinner would impress her enough. You just have to do better than those greasy kids she goes to school with.” Chanyeol suggested casually, but Baekhyun wasn’t having it. 

“I want to do something special, not just some lame dinner. I’m sure she’s had plenty of college boys take her out to expensive restaurants with daddy’s money before. I have to do better than that.”  He was pacing now, trying to think of what the hell people even did for first dates aside from get food or see a movie. 

“Do something different then, drive her out into the country and prepare a nice picnic or something and watch the sunset together, girls love romantic shit like that.” 

“First I have to ask her out though, maybe I should bring some chocolate and flowers too. I want it to be perfect. And for her to say yes.”

“I know you’ll do great, don’t worry about it too much, she already likes you anyway. She’s gonna say yes. Just don’t say anything weird and she’ll totally fall in love with you.”

“I hope you’re right.” 

“I’m always right.”

It was getting later and later in the morning and Baekhyun needed to actually start getting work done, so he ended the call there. 

He had come up with some ideas for the date throughout the day, but they would all require quite some planning. He was going to do whatever he could to make sure you were thoroughly swept off your feet, he wouldn’t accept anything less than that. 

First though, he had to make sure you’d agree to go at all. 

~

The rest of your Thursday was spent more or less successfully getting Baekhyun off your mind with various school work and other mundane tasks. You’d stayed on campus, still avoiding Mia but eventually your classes were over and you needed to get back home. You knew you’d have to face her eventually anyway and at least now you’d had enough time to chill out about it a little.

Unfortunately for you Mia was in the living room when you entered the apartment, and within seconds her eyes traveled to your neck and she squealed with delight. 

“Y/N!!! PLEASE TELL ME YOU FINALLY GOT SOME DICK.” 

“Sorry to disappoint.” You responded, cringing and taking your shoes before going to sit with her on the couch. 

“But something happened! Tell me everything!!”    

So you did. Right down to his dick stabbing you through his pants and how he kicked you out of his office. Unlike Chanyeol, you knew she wouldn’t leave you alone until she knew everything, and in great detail, so you didn’t hold back. 

You felt all the emotions from the previous night rushed back to you as you got into the intricacies of the kiss itself. This was exactly what you knew would happen, and why you’d been avoiding it. The whole time Mia just stared and nodded, seemingly fascinated by your thrilling tale. You were thankful she hadn’t made fun of you at all for how flustered you were getting while talking about it. 

When you were finally done retelling everything, she didn’t speak. Instead she pulled you into a tight hug. 

“You like him a lot, I can tell. And he has a lot of respect for you if he had enough self control to make you leave before more could happen. I think he could be really great for you.” She pulled back to look at you, keeping both hands on your shoulders. “And I’ve never heard you talk about a guy like that before.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever liked someone the way I like him. He’s not some college boy, he’s a real man. It just feels different. Much more... real.” 

“Do you want something real with him? More than just a fling?” You nodded. “Do you think he’ll ask you out on a real date?” 

“I hope so.” 

“I hope so too. I’m sure he’ll come up with something amazing for you guys.” She smiled, lightly punching your shoulder in excitement. 

You felt elated to finally have gotten everything off your chest. Talking about it really hadn’t been that bad, if anything it only strengthened how you felt for him.

“I’m really lucky, aren’t I?” You asked, letting yourself fall backwards to lay across the couch. 

“Duh. You found a super cute, nice, and rich guy who thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread. Any girl would envy you.” Her eyes went wide, and you could practically see the lightbulb manifest itself and flicker on over her head. “He has hot friends right?” 

You laughed, amused by her usual boy craziness. “Yeah, he has some pretty cute friends but I don’t really know any of them, give me some time and I’ll report back to you if any of them are available.” 

For some reason, you didn’t tell her about your conversation with Chanyeol. Maybe it was what he’d said about Baekhyun’s ex that was still hanging in the back of your mind, but it didn’t seem like something you needed to bring up to her now anyways. 

“Well, please do let me know.” She responded, grinning, getting up from the couch and making her way into the kitchen. 

“Aye aye captain.” You shot a thumbs up at her from the couch, giggling. 

She ended up cooking dinner for the both of you, and you spent the rest of the evening collectively fantasizing about what sort of extravagant outing he’d take you on once he asked you on an official date. 

You couldn’t wait.  

Next Chapter

A/N: Just wanna say I love Jisoo and used her name purely to convey the characters appearance! She in no way represents the real Jisoo who is obviously a wonderful girl :)  also if the spacing is weird on mobile I blame the fact that I wrote this on my laptop 🥴 sorry

[rafael-silva]

always be mine (and I will always be yours): a tarlos fic

“Do you smell that?” Carlos freezes, sniffs a couple of times before his face, too, falls. “Smoke.” TK nods and begins looking around, Carlos following his lead. The store isn’t that crowded, but there are a few people around, some who haven’t noticed the smell, yet. “We need to get people out,” TK says, jumping into first responder mode. “Yeah.”

-

Carlos and TK’s first shared day off in what seemed like forever is turned upside down when a fire erupts in a store while they're shopping, threatening to tear them apart and prematurely end their future together.

for bad things happen bingo: tarlos + bleeding through the bandages

major character injury, hurt carlos reyes, worried tk strand, established relationship, angst, whump, blood, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddles, kisses, angst with a happy ending

8.2k | on ao3

*****

“Hey, ‘Los. What do you think of these?”

Carlos turns to look in TK’s direction, his eyes studying the light grey plate the younger man is holding up to show him.

“I think it would look nice with the dark grey set we use,” TK continues. “It would be a good contrast using the same color.”

Carlos nods after a moment of consideration. “Yeah, I think so, too. I like it.”

It’s Carlos and TK’s first shared day off in the past few weeks. They had planned the entire day upon finding that out, starting with sleeping in later than usual, a late breakfast, some shopping for the condo and then having a meal with Carlos’s parents.

They are currently shopping for a few things at an open mall. Ever since TK had moved in with Carlos, they had put effort into making the condo theirs and for it to also reflect TK and his personality. The best way to go about doing that was to go out and see what caught TK’s attention and making a home for those items.

“There’s still a lot to see, though,” TK says, looking in further down the aisle he was standing at the beginning of. “I like these, but let’s keep looking. We might find something better.”

Carlos walks over and extends his arm towards TK, and TK wastes no time in linking their fingers together. They walk hand in hand through the aisle, then the next and the next. They didn't really have a to-buy list with them, they were scouting more than anything and seeing what they stumbled upon and caught their attention. They both agree that that is the best way to find exactly what they’re searching for.

Carlos was enjoying this, his favorite time is any time spent with TK, but in this setting, he adores how excited TK would get over something his eyes catches or if he finds something interesting. But Carlos himself was also very interested in and excited about a particular section of the store: the cooking and baking equipment.

He couldn’t wait to reach it, already eager to find out if there are any new models or new appliances he could use in the kitchen. And his mother’s birthday is coming up soon, too, and he’s been cataloging the appliances at his parents’ house to figure out if he could get her a new one, too, knowing she’ll love it.

Carlos is brought back from his thoughts by yet another excited squeal from TK as the paramedic rushes in the direction of the towels and linens section. Carlos chuckles and follows him, knowing how much TK loves and appreciates a good soft towel or silky smooth sheets.

“They’re so soft!” TK tells Carlos, running his hand over a displayed towel. “And these sheets!” He moves to the other side, admiring the bedsheets.

Carlos has to admit, they do feel pretty amazing. And the colors would fit right in with their bathroom and bedroom.

TK looks at Carlos. “I’ve made up my mind, new towels and sheets.”

“Okay, then,” Carlos nods.

If new towels and bedsheets will make the condo feel more like home for TK, then they will get all the towels and sheets TK’s heart desires.

Their conversation is cut short when TK frowns, turning around and narrowing his eyes.

“What is it?” Carlos asks, immediately noticing the change in TK’s posture.

“Do you smell that?”

Carlos freezes, sniffs a couple of times before his face, too, falls. “Smoke.”

TK nods and begins looking around, Carlos following his lead.

The store isn’t that crowded, but there are a few people around, some who haven’t noticed the smell, yet.

“We need to get people out,” TK says, jumping into first responder mode.

“Yeah.”

The alarm goes off just as they start grabbing people’s attentions. Together, they usher them out with the help of the green lit signs.

TK and Carlos share a concerned look when they both realize that the smoke is getting heavier and more evident as they make their way towards the exit.

And then TK spots it, the dancing red and orange flames coming from the corner of the store, getting bigger and bigger by each passing second, feeding on the oxygen in the closed space. He could also see a few silhouettes near the fire, who may need help.

“There’s still people near the fire,” TK yells over to Carlos, pointing in the direction of the flames. “Get everyone out, I’ll go for them and meet you outside.”

But Carlos is shaking his head. “I’m not leaving you.”

Carlos’s tone leaves no room for argument, and TK knows they don’t even have time for any arguments. TK turns to a young man in the crowd.

“Make sure everyone is out, don’t stop for anything,” he instructs him.

The man nods and continues helping people out.

“Here,” Carlos pushes something into TK’s hands.

He looks down to see one of the towels he was admiring earlier and finds Carlos covering his own mouth and nose with one himself.

The irony doesn’t escape him.

TK nods. “Thanks.” He lifts the towel to his face, the promise of softness and comfort that came hand in hand with this towel shifts and its purpose is now a shield for protection instead.

The heat gets worse the closer they get to the people in the fire vicinity, and Carlos can feel the sweat running down his neck and back. The thick smoke makes it almost impossible to see straight and the officer does his best to keep TK in his direct line of sight.

“Hey, we’re here to help!” TK yells when he’s in earshot.

“It’s so hard to see,” a woman’s voice speaks. “The smoke…”

“I know, just follow my voice,” TK guides her. He eventually gets to her and points her in the direction of the exit. “Is there anyone else here?”

She nods. “Two more.”

“TK, over here!”

Once he’s sure she’s moving in the right direction, TK turns his attention to where Carlos’s voice is coming from. He finds Carlos standing, supporting a man by carrying his weight with an arm draped over his shoulder.

“You alright?” Carlos asks.

“Yeah, thanks,” the man nods.

“There’s another person,” TK points out, looking around and trying to see through the smoke.

The fire is growing at an alarming rate, TK’s firefighter instincts scream that they need to get out of there right this moment.

“Can anyone hear me?” TK tries, hoping his voice carries over the fire.

A figure emerges near a door with a sign that reads Changing Rooms.

“Good, good!” TK says as the other man approaches them, covering his mouth and nose with a scarf. “We need to get out of here! This way!”

TK points the two men in the direction as they start moving, TK waits for Carlos so they’re close together, not risking losing him in all this smoke. With a final look around, TK gives him a nod and they start heading towards the exit.

An exploding sound originating near them sends Carlos and TK diving to the ground, covering their faces with their arms and curling their bodies where they landed. It’s over just as quickly as it started, it takes a moment for TK to shake it off, sitting up and wincing at the ringing in his ears. He takes a moment to refocus, eyes immediately searching for Carlos in the chaos.  

He finds Carlos a few feet away from him, lying on his back. TK glances around and sees the floor around them littered with broken glass. Mindful of the sharp pieces, TK quickly crawls over to Carlos.

“Hey, Carlos. Are you okay?” TK asks, taking a quick survey of the other man but stops short when his eyes land on Carlos’s stomach.

He freezes, he even stops breathing for a few seconds. The sight makes TK’s own stomach twist and turn. Because no, no, no, this can’t be happening.

“TK,” Carlos groans through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, babe. You’re okay,” TK rushes to reassure Carlos, his voice shakier than he’d like.

“What…” Carlos begins but trails off, scrunching up his face in pain.

“A glass display exploded, and you have some glass embedded in your abdomen,” TK swallows. “I need you to stay calm and still. And stay awake, babe.”

TK looks up and not only is the fire much, much bigger but it’s getting closer to where Carlos is lying on the ground. He frantically looks around hoping to find help, but no one is in sight. And he doubts anyone can see them through the heavy grey cloud. They need to move, and Carlos is already losing a lot of blood. TK feels the panic start to bubble in his gut, but he pushes it down, willing his racing heart to calm down so he can help Carlos. So he can save him.

Taking a deep breath doesn’t really help, because it’s practically inhaling a handful of smoke but TK manages to regain some control anyway, his training kicking in. If anyone can get Carlos out, it’s him.

“I need to apply pressure, Carlos,” TK says over the raging fire, reaching for the towel Carlos was using before and pressing it hard against the officer’s stomach.

And once again, the towel is transformed from an item of indulgence to a lifeline for Carlos.

Carlos lets out a pained scream, rolling his head from side to side. TK watches in anguish as a tear rolls down the side of Carlos’s face.

“I know, I’m sorry, but we need to slow down this bleeding as much as we can until we get help.”

TK wraps his hand around Carlos’s wrist and guides the cop’s hand towards the wound, pushing it down there. “Keep holding it there.”

It’s hot, God, it’s so hot, TK feels the heat coursing through his body. His face feels so hot and his eyes are starting to burn. He zones out for a moment when his eyes land on the blood pooling beneath the love of his life. A crash behind them snaps him back to the moment.

“Can you stand up?” He asks Carlos.

“Don’t know.”

“It’s okay, I’m gonna help you. We need to get out of here. Trust me,” TK says and starts helping Carlos into a sitting position.

“I trust you with my life,” Carlos croaks.

“I got you. On three,” he takes hold of Carlos’s free arm and throws it over his shoulder. On the count of three, he get to his feet, helping Carlos up with him and supporting more of his weight.

“That’s it,” TK whispers. “One foot in front of the other.” He secures his hold on Carlos by wrapping his arm around Carlos’s waist and guiding them towards the exit.

He feels Carlos getting weaker in his grip, and notices his hold on the towel faltering, allowing for more blood to rush freely down his skin once more.

“Hey, Carlos, I need you to stay with me, baby,” TK tries, his voice wobbly and unsteady.

He can’t tell if Carlos heard that and he feels the fear begin to seize him. He feels helpless, momentarily at loss as he pretty much carries Carlos out of the burning store.

“Carlos, please…stay with me.”

Carlos manages to breathe out an mhm and TK tightens his hold on him, moving with purpose and precision as the fire continues roaring behind them.

After what feels like an eternity, TK sees the light.

“I need a first aid kit!” TK yells at the crowd gathered outside of the store. “Get me a first aid kit!”

The much-needed fresh air doesn’t do much in helping TK relax or calm down. He stops once they’re far enough from the entrance and with the help of another man, TK lowers Carlos to the ground.

“Hey, babe. You still with me?”

Carlos gives him a short nod.

TK discards the ruined piece of fabric and cotton to inspect the wound. He can see at least three shards of glass inside the wound, he can’t tell if they’ve hit any organs or nicked any veins, but the amount of blood Carlos has already lost is alarming. The officer’s entire left side is drenched in crimson, also staining the top of his jeans.

“You’re gonna be okay, ‘Los,” TK continues speaking, trying to keep Carlos awake. “Just stay with me. Focus on my voice.”

“Ty…” Carlos mumbles, his voice weak.

“I’m right here, baby.”

The first aid kit is opened when it lands next to TK and he doesn’t look in the direction of where it came. He grabs for a bandage, unwrapping it and hastily layering it in his palm before pressing it hard against Carlos’s abdomen.

Carlos gasps, his brown eyes opening wide and the rush of adrenaline seems to pump some energy through his body.

“Stay with me,” TK repeats.

“Guess…we won’t make dinner…with my parents,” Carlos pushes out.

TK lets out a wet chuckle. “Don’t worry about that, babe. We’ll have another dinner with them once you’re all fixed up and better.”

TK gulps, the bandage is filling up with blood way too quickly. There’s so much blood…Carlos’s blood. TK reaches for another bandage, holding it against Carlos’s stomach with his now-smeared fingers. His heart is hammering roughly against his ribcage and he attempts to draw in a few breaths but they come out in coughs.

“Ty, your chest,” Carlos stammers.

TK shakes his head. “I’m okay, it’s nothing serious.” And then the air around them is graced with the sound of incoming sirens.

“Do you hear that, babe? Help is almost here,” TK says, throwing the bloodied bandage aside and pressing yet another one to the wound.

He looks up from Carlos for the first time when he hears rapid footsteps approaching and a slight weight is lifted off his chest when he spots Marjan jogging towards them.

His team is here. It’s gonna be okay.

TK can pinpoint the moment Marjan’s eyes land on him and the split second it takes her to realize who she’s looking at. Her eyes go big very quickly and she breaks into a run towards them, already screaming for Tommy and Nancy.

“Captain Vega! Nancy! Over here!” She frantically waves the paramedics over.

“Hey, Marj,” TK breaths out, feeling a little deflated but his hands still applying pressure to Carlos’s stomach.

“Strand!” Tommy’s voice comes from behind as she and Nancy crouch next to them. “What happened?”

“A fire started, and then a glass display shattered and hit Carlos. There’s some glass shards lodged in his abdomen. He’s lost a lot of blood,” TK’s voice trembles as he explains.

Tommy nods, getting the equipment ready and Nancy works to take Carlos’s vitals.

“Hey, Carlos,” Tommy speaks in her calm and sweet tone. “How are you doing?”

“Okay…” Carlos whispers.

TK can feel the rest of the crew gather around them and he senses his dad standing right behind him. It’s confirmed when he feels a hand on his shoulder, and he knows it’s his father’s touch.

He looks up and sees Judd standing near. “I think everyone is out.”

TK hears Owen give orders while turning his attention back to Carlos. And under all the soot and black ash smudged on Carlos’s face, the officer is looking a lot paler than he did a minute ago.

TK’s heart shatters a little more and some pieces drop into his knees when he feels Carlos’s blood seep through the bandage and stick to his skin.

“He’s bleeding through all of the bandages,” TK’s voice breaks.

“TK, I know it’s hard but I’m going to need you to let go for a moment,” Tommy says.

TK vigorously shakes his head. “I can’t, I can’t…he’ll bleed more. I can’t.”

“I need to see the damage. Here,” she hands TK a bigger and thicker piece of gauze. “To use the moment I’m done.”

Reluctantly, TK pulls back. He closes his eyes for a moment while Tommy inspects the wound and then he’s opening his eyes and pressing the gauze once she’s done.

“I don’t think the glass hit anything vital,” she reports.

“His sats are low, Cap,” Nancy speaks.

“TK, I need you to keep the pressure. We’re gonna move him now. Captain Strand, a hand.”

Together, Tommy, Nancy and Owen lift Carlos onto the stretcher while TK keeps his hold.

Owen gives TK’s shoulder a squeeze. “Keep us updated, son,” his voice is filled to the brim with worry and concern. “We’ll be by the hospital as soon as we can.”

TK nods and hops into the rig after they push Carlos inside. Tommy instantly gets to work, placing the oxygen mask over Carlos’s face and starts inserting an IV in Carlos’s arm. Nancy slams the doors and rushes to the driver’s seat, the siren blaring as the ambulance starts to move.

TK keeps the pressure with one hand and uses the other to hold one of Carlos’s, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

Carlos peels his eyelids open and finds TK’s face through the haze. TK’s very worried face.

“We…didn’t see the…kitchen appliances,” Carlos says, his voice partly muffled by the oxygen mask.

Another wet chuckle from TK. “I promise we’ll get all the new appliances you want.”

“My parents,” Carlos wheezes.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll handle it, save your energy,” TK replies.

“I love you, Ty,” Carlos whispers as his eyes begin to droop.

“I love you, too. You gotta stay awake for me, ‘Los.”

A gut-wrenching feeling takes over and TK refuses to believe that Carlos has just said goodbye, even as a lone tear slips out of his eye and rolls down his cheek.

The rest of the ride is stressful, with Carlos going in and out of consciousness.

The ambulance doors are yanked open when the rig comes to halt in front of the hospital. Tommy gives the doctors and nurses a rundown of Carlos’s injury and vitals as they quickly move. TK jogs by the gurney, only letting his hand drop when he knows one of the nurses took over keeping the pressure.

The other nurse stands in front of TK, but he’s looking over her shoulder to where Carlos is being wheeled into the elevator.

The nurse gently takes hold of TK’s hand and drops something into it.

He looks down and sees a ring sitting in his palm. The silver ring he slipped onto Carlos’s finger just a couple of months ago.

“Hold onto it for him,” the nurse says.

But her voice is so far away now, muffled and distant. And it feels like TK’s suddenly under water as he begins to heave, the rest of the world fading away. He’s visibly shaking now, clutching the ring tightly in his fist. He can’t stop the sob that tears through his throat and out of his dried lips.

He feels Tommy’s hand come to rest on the small of his back as she leads him towards the chairs.

“Come on, TK.”

He lets her guide him and he drops harshly onto the plastic, his knuckles going white from the force of his hold on Carlos’s ring.

“Easy, easy,” Tommy soothes, slowly coaxing his fingers from digging into his palm.

TK opens his palm and looks at the ring again, the one thing on repeat going through his head that’s Carlos’s blood, that’s Carlos’s blood and TK feels sick to his stomach. He slips the ring into his pocket without a word.

“I…should call his parents,” TK speaks after a few minutes of silence. “I should…” he drops his head to look at his still-bloody hands.

Tommy nods, watching as TK gets up on unsteady legs and makes his way towards the bathroom first.

After scrubbing his hands clean, he steps outside of the ER. It’s hot and the atmosphere is stiff around him.

TK had lost track of time, but the sun still hanging high in the sky tells him it can’t be more than thirty minutes since the fire started, though it feels like that was a lifetime or two ago.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and takes a deep breath, touching a contact and dragging the phone up to his ear.

“Tyler,” Andrea picks up after the third ring, her voice cheery and joyful. “I’m just about to start making the food. Are you and Carlitos almost done with your errands?”

“Andrea,” TK manages to push past the lump in his throat, his voice uneven.

She immediately picks up on TK’s broken tone. “What is it?”

“Something happened.”

TK finds the waiting room where Tommy and Nancy are sitting a few minutes after ending the phone call with Andrea. He doesn’t know how he got through telling her the hellish events of the past hour without completely breaking down.

Shock, his mind supplies.

“His parents are on their way,” TK announces.

He’s not sure his legs can carry him any longer, the adrenaline beginning to wear off, so he unceremoniously falls backwards into a chair facing the door.

“We’ll wait until they get here,” Tommy decides. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

TK musters his best grateful smile to give to Tommy, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

The silence is heavy around them, TK’s nervous energy visible through the rapid bouncing of his leg. He’s leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs with his face buried in his hands. He gently tugs on his hair strands, needing to keep his hands busy.

He only looks up from the carpeted floor when he hears fast footsteps nearing the door, spotting Andrea and Gabriel rushing towards the room through the glass window.

TK gets to his feet just as they enter the room, and his head immediately drops. In this moment, TK wants to curl up in the corner and be invisible. It’s been eating at him since they arrived at the hospital, how he feels like this is all his fault. He should have pressed harder for Carlos to get out of that burning store while he still could have, because it he had gone, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. And now, facing Carlos’s parents, with the guilt racking and building in his bones with each passing second, he can’t bring himself to meet their worried gazes.

Andrea can tell TK’s breath hitches because she’s moving across the room and closing the distance between them in two strides.

“Breathe, Tyler, breathe,” she speaks, her voice low but still soothing as she wraps her arms around TK’s quivering body.

TK falls against Andrea, returning the embrace and he can’t help the sob that escapes his lips.

Andrea gently shushes him, a hand traveling up his back and settles against the back of his head where she cards her fingers through TK’s short hair.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” TK hiccups, the tears now running freely down his face and wetting Andrea’s shirt. “I tried, I tried…”

Not only is his guilt weighing him down, but Carlos’s ring in his pocket suddenly feels very heavy.

“Está bien, amor,” she reassures him. It’s okay, love.

TK stays in her arms for a few more moments, in her warmth, gathering his own strength and maybe even borrowing some of Andrea’s so he can keep standing.

He eventually pulls back with a sniffle, straightening his back and wiping away the fallen tears.

“There’s no reason to be sorry,” Andrea gives TK a small smile, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know in my heart you did everything you could to help our Carlitos.”

More tears pool in TK’s eyes and one streaks down his cheek when Gabriel reaches out, placing a hand on TK’s shoulder and giving him a squeeze there.

“What she said, mijo.”

TK is taken aback by how different Gabriel sounds. The Texas Ranger’s usually strong and proud voice sounds like it’s been shrunk, small and low. Gabriel looks deflated, too.

TK draws in a deep breath, giving them a nod before clearing his throat.

He turns to face Tommy and Nancy, who were watching the encounter with their own teary eyes.

“Gabriel, Andrea, this is my team, Captain Vega and Nancy,” TK introduces. “Guys, these are Carlos’s parents.”

Tommy and Nancy get up to their feet, Tommy extended a hand, shaking Gabriel’s and then Andrea’s.

“I’m so sorry we had to officially meet under these circumstances,” the Paramedic Captain speaks. “Carlos is young, strong and healthy and he’s in the best of hands.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Gabriel replies with a grateful tone.

“And you were right,” Tommy faces Andrea. “TK did everything right. I would even say he’s the one who saved Carlos’s life.”

TK closes his eyes and lets the words sink in. He opens them when he feels a hand on his back.

It’s Nancy. “Call if you need anything, Strand. I mean it.”

TK nods, giving her a hug. “Thanks, Nance.”

“And keep us updated, we’re all thinking of you. Both of you,” Tommy adds.

“Thanks, Cap.”

With quick goodbyes, Tommy and Nancy leave.

Andrea takes TK’s hand and leads him back towards the chairs where she sits between him and her husband.

TK pulls out his phone, staring at his lock screen wallpaper for a second, a selfie of him and Carlos, both of them wearing big smiles. He keeps his gaze on Carlos for a few more moment before unlocking it.

TK: [4:09 PM] Andrea and Gabriel are here, Tommy and Nancy just left. We haven't heard anything yet.

Owen’s reply comes immediately.

Owen: [4:09 PM] Send them my love until I get there. Only a couple of hours left for shift, I’ll be by as soon as I can.

TK: [4:10 PM] Thanks, dad.

Owen: [4:11 PM] The crew send their love and support, too.

Doctors and nurses keep walking passed the waiting room but none of them enter or seek the worried trio out. TK’s heart beats a little faster every time a doctor or nurse approaches the waiting room, but disappointment quickly sets in when they disappear as quickly as they appeared.

“Have you eaten anything?” Andrea asks after ten minutes of silence.

TK shakes his head. “Not since breakfast. I’m not really hungry, though.”

And this topic brings back a memory from earlier in the day, and TK lets out a bitter chuckle.

Andrea and Gabriel give him puzzled looks, clearly confused.

“No, it’s just,” TK starts with a shake of his head. “When Carlos was hurt, you know what he was worried about the most? That we were gonna miss dinner with you guys,” he voice fractures. “I told him not worry, that we’ll have another one once he’s better. But…he was worried about dinner.”

Andrea closes her eyes, pushing a tear down her face. “Yeah, that’s our Carlitos. He never wants to let anyone down.”

TK nods. “Now just the idea of food or eating, it just…” he stops with another head shake and starts fumbling with his hands.

“I understand but still, you need to eat something,” Andrea interjects. “You need to keep your energy and strength up to take care of him. You’re no good to Carlos if you collapse.”

TK doesn’t fight it because he knows she’s right.

She gets up, picking up her purse and throwing it over her shoulder. “Let me go see what’s there to eat around here.” And then she’s gone, leaving TK and Gabriel alone with their thoughts.

A few minutes in and the silence is too much for TK to handle.

“This is all my fault,” his voice slices through the atmosphere.

Gabriel looks at TK, his eyebrows creased together in question.

“Carlos getting hurt,” TK clarifies. “I should have insisted he leave with everyone else, instead of going with me towards the fire.”

Gabriel’s eyes widen a little in surprise. “You…went towards the fire?”

TK nods, swallowing and looking away from Gabriel’s eyes. “Some people were having a hard time finding their way out. And I knew there wasn’t much time left, I knew I had to go and help them. I told Carlos to leave with everybody else but he said he won’t leave me. I let it go because there wasn’t enough time to argue. But now…I can’t help but wonder if I had just taken two seconds to insist that he get to safety. I’m trained for this, he isn’t. He came along, and he got hurt.”

Gabriel’s eyes soften and he moves one chair over, now sitting in Andrea’s place. “TK, you and I both know that with or without training, Carlos would have never left you alone in that store.”

TK shakes his head. “He should have. He should have gotten out of there.”

“Answer me this,” Gabriel says. “If it were a reversed situation, and let’s say instead of a fire it was a robbery, would you have left Carlos alone, even if he told you to leave to get to safety?”

TK meets Gabriel’s eyes once again. “No,” he sighs, rolling his own ring in circles where it sits on his finger. “I wouldn’t leave him.”

Gabriel nods. “Even without police training, you wouldn’t have left his side. This is the exact same thing.”

TK draws in a shaky breath and lets it out slowly.

“This wasn’t your fault, TK,” Gabriel expresses, a hand going to the back of TK’s neck and giving him a reassuring squeeze and pat there.

TK feels the slightest weight lifted off his chest. The rest will be removed once he knows with certainty that Carlos is okay.

*****

Andrea had returned with a take out paper bag from a nearby Tex Mex food truck she had spotted on her quest to find food. She knew that the last thing TK needs would be hospital food, and remembering Carlos mentioning that TK loved burritos, she ordered a filling one for him.

He had gratefully accepted the food and ate in silence, taking one small bite after the other until he was crunching up the foil wrap and throwing it away.

He had to admit, eating did help him feel a little better.

However, his anxiety and worry have been increasing because it’s been over two hours and they haven’t heard anything about Carlos yet.

“TK!”

TK hears Owen before he sees him, he gets up just in time to see his dad striding into the waiting room, Judd hot on his heels, both in their civvies.

“Hey, dad,” TK sags a little, accepting the embrace Owen wraps him in.

They hug for a few moments before pulling back, and then Judd is placing a comforting hand on TK’s shoulder.

“You doin’ alright, brother?”

TK nods. “Hanging in there.”

“Have you heard anything yet?”

TK shakes his head, his eyes flooding with tears again as they land on the opened doorway.

After quick exchanges between Andrea, Gabriel, Owen and Judd (they’ve all grown closer since Carlos and TK’s engagement) the four of them take their seats while TK opts to pace around the small room instead, going back to rolling his ring between his fingers, a gesture he does when he’s nervous.

Carlos would always notice, and he’d reach out and cover TK’s hand with his own, wordlessly reassuring TK that he’s here and that TK isn’t alone.

And TK misses that, he misses Carlos’s touch. Misses his voice, his smile, his eyes. He misses Carlos and he feels that ache echo from his head to his toe.

“Did you find out what started the fire?” TK asks, looking at Owen, part of him needing to know.

Owen nods. “Electrical fire. It started with a spark and then quickly spread.”

TK nods slowly. “Carlos is going to be fine,” he whispers, more to himself than anything else. “He has to be.”

*****

After what feels like a lifetime and then some, a very exhausted looking doctor makes his way into the waiting room. In one beat, everyone is on their feet and TK exchanges a fast look with his dad before turning his attention back to the doctor.

TK finds himself shifting his weight from one foot to the other, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Family of Carlos Reyes?”

“How’s our son?” Gabriel is the first to ask, clasping Andrea’s hand with his own.

“He made it through,” the doctor replies with a tired but genuine smile. “He’s going to be okay.”

A collective sigh rebounds off the walls and the tension in the room starts fading. But TK is still holding his breath, still cautious as he process the doctor’s words.

“The glass fragments didn’t hit anything vital and didn’t sever any veins or arteries. But the wound was deep and jagged, due to the irregular angle and high speed the pieces penetrated his abdomen, which made it a little complicated to repair. His blood pressure was lower than I liked for most of the surgery, because of how much blood he had already lost, but we got it under control and his numbers are now holding and stable,” the doctor explains.

“Gracias a Dios,” Andrea whispers, clutching her free hand over her heart. “When can we see him?”

“Shortly. He’s being settled into recovery right now. I have to limit visitors to two until he’s moved to a regular room.”

Gabriel extends his hand to shake the doctor’s. “Gracias, doctor.”

“You’re welcome,” the doctor smiles again. “He’s young and healthy, I expect him to make a full recovery. A nurse will come by to let you know once he’s ready for visitors.”

TK’s mind is still catching up with what the doctor had said, he sees him walk away but he doesn’t exactly register it.

“He’s okay?” TK turns to Owen, needing to hear it one more time to believe it.

Owen nods with a smile. “He’s okay, son.”

TK would have crashed to the ground if it weren’t for Owen’s fast reflexes in wrapping an arm around his son’s waist. Owen saw the second it happened, the second TK’s knees gave way and it was an instant later he was holding TK upright.

“Easy, TK, easy,” Owen guides him to sit. “Deep, even breaths.”

It takes a minute or two for TK to control his breathing and to steady his heart rate.

“That’s it, son, that’s it,” Owen runs a hand up and down TK’s back to help sooth him.

“Carlos is okay,” TK says out loud, finally believing it.

Carlos’s ring isn’t heavy in TK’s pocket anymore.

*****

Sitting by Carlos’s hospital bed is surreal.

There’s so much that doesn’t fit with the image TK has of Carlos in his mind, and his brain is working on processing the sight in front of him.

Yes, Carlos is calm, not nearly as fidgety as TK is, but still, the officer had little gestures here and there, little movements he would do that spoke volumes. It had taken TK a while to document them, but once he did, he would notice every time Carlos would scrunch up his nose or rub at his temple when he was focusing on something that was work related. How his eyes would move under closed lids when he was asleep. How he’d turn on his side, arm automatically reaching for TK and pulling him close. And there are more little things that spell Carlos so vividly and the absence of them in this moment breaks TK’s heart all that more.

He sighs, his red, swollen eyes moving to the heart monitor that tells him that Carlos’s heartbeat is strong and steady. TK is also glad to see that his fiancé had regained some color in his face, and that he was breathing on his own, all good and promising signs. But still, TK will only be fully satisfied when Carlos is awake and smiling at him.

It’s been nearly an hour since a nurse had informed them that Carlos was ready for visitors. TK had insisted that Andrea and Gabriel see Carlos first, and they stayed with their son for about thirty minutes before retreating back to the waiting room, eyes equally bloodshot.

Gabriel had patted TK’s back. Go be with your fiancé, he had told TK. And with a promise to visit the next day, he and Andrea left.

Owen and Judd had excused themselves, as well; Owen going to pack a bag for TK and Judd going home to Grace. Both men reminding TK to call or text if he needs anything or if a change happens.

“Hi, baby,” TK tightens his grasp on Carlos’s hand. “Your parents will be back tomorrow. Dad’s packing a bag for me for the night, and everyone sends their love and support. They all said they’ll visit in a couple of days, and I’m hoping you’ll be awake by then.”

The beeping monitor is all the response TK gets.

“I’m right here, ‘Los. Come back to me,” TK whispers as he runs his fingers through Carlos’s soft curls. The officer always did leave his curls a little loose on his days off, not applying much hair product to keep them in place. And TK adores Carlos’s curls.

He then gets up and plants a kiss to Carlos’s forehead.

It’s a restless night for TK. Between his worry and the nurses frequently checking on Carlos, he barely gets any sleep. He gives up right around dawn breaking, painting the sky in streaks of red, orange and yellow. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and sits up in the cot that was set for him. A quick survey tells him that nothing has changed, and that sadly means that Carlos still hasn’t woken up. He gets to his feet and stretches, expelling the exhaustion from his bones as much as he could. A trip to the bathroom would help, his mind supplies.

After freshening up, he returns to Carlos’s side, brushing a kiss to the officer’s cheek.

“Good morning, babe.”

He looks up as the door is pushed open and a young nurse walks in.

“Oh, good morning,” she smiles at TK.

“Morning,” he gives a small smile in return.

“He’s doing good,” she notes, jotting down Carlos’s vitals in the clipboard hanging on the end of his bed. “The doctor is hopeful he’ll wake up today.”

“That’s great to hear,” TK replies. “I…really need him to wake up.”

She nods. “There’s a coffee station down the hall, you look like you need it,” she adds with empathy in her voice.

“Thanks,” TK lightly chuckles. And boy does he really need it.

TK hasn’t really let the full gravity of the past day’s events sink in. He wasn’t exactly bottling it up or ignoring it or running from it, part of him was still trying to wrap his mind around it. It had all happened so fast, and then everything was so incredibly slow, it caused TK’s mind to lag. It all felt like a haze, like he was trying to see through a fog.

And even now, with a cup of coffee in hand, watching the steady rise and fall of Carlos’s chest, TK feels like it’s an out of body experience. It hasn’t sunk in yet, and TK is praying that Carlos will be awake when it eventually does. Because he doesn’t want to—a part of him even thinks he can’t—deal with this alone. Dealing with the aftermath with Carlos here, awake, will make it a little easier, TK supposes.

The minutes and hours tick by, with no change from Carlos’s side. TK had grown agitated a few times and opted to walk around the room for a bit, even taking a quick stroll up and down the hallway a couple of times, to burn off some energy.

He’s back in the chair situated next to the bed, scrolling through and replying to texts he’d received. He’s sending a message to the 126 crew group chat when a small movement catches his eye. TK looks up, locking his phone and placing it on the nightstand.

He holds his breath, momentarily thinking his brain was playing a cruel trick on him when the movement happens again.

His phone pings but TK doesn’t dare to look away from Carlos’s face.

“Carlos? Baby, can you hear me?” He speaks, his voice is a little husky from not being used.

And then TK can cry, because Carlos’s head is slowly moving to the side and his eyes are gradually met by Carlos’s beautiful brown eyes.

“Oh my god,” TK breathes. “Hi, babe. Hi.”

“Ty,” Carlos croaks out, his voice hoarse.

“I’m right here, right here,” TK smiles and for the first time since they smelled smoke, TK can finally breathe.

And he also does cry, a tear rolling down his cheek as brown and green gaze into each other. But Carlos’s eyes are also a little clouded.

With all the strength he could muster, Carlos lifts his arm and cups TK’s cheek, wiping away the fallen tear with his thumb.

TK chuckles wetly and leans into Carlos’s touch. Oh, how much he’s missed it.

“‘m okay,” Carlos mumbles.

“Yeah,” TK nods. “Yeah, you are, babe.”

Carlos’s tongue darts out to lick his dry lips.

“Do you want some water?”

Carlos responds with a small nod.

TK grabs the water pitcher and pours some into a cup, placing it in front of Carlos and guiding the straw between his lips.

“Easy, babe. Slow sips,” TK says, holding the cup.

Once Carlos is done, TK returns the cup. He can tell Carlos is already exhausted by the way the officer’s eyes are beginning to droop shut. He can also tell that Carlos is fighting it.

“It’s okay, ‘Los,” TK reassures him. “Go back to sleep, your body needs it to heal. I’ll be right here when you wake up again.”

“Love you,” Carlos whispers, already halfway asleep.

“And I love you,” TK replies, pressing a kiss to Carlos’s knuckles.

***** Carlos wakes up again a few hours later, more coherent and alert. Stronger, too.

TK’s watching him when he opens his eyes, blinks a few times and settles on the paramedic’s face, that quickly splits into a grin.

“Welcome back, again,” TK squeezes Carlos’s hand.

TK’s words take a moment to sink in for Carlos, and he’s frowning once they do. “Again?”

TK nods. “You woke up a few hours ago. You don’t remember?”

Carlos tries to focus, he remembers seeing TK, but…

“I remember seeing your face, but I thought I was dreaming,” Carlos eventually replies.

“No, baby, it wasn’t a dream. You woke up for a minute and then slept again,” he gives Carlos’s hand a squeeze. “The doctor said that was perfectly normal, that your body needed more time to heal, from the injury and the toll of the surgery.”

“How bad is it?” Carlos asks once he’s gathered enough strength again. He could still feel the ghost of the towel pressing into his side.

TK swallows, a hand going to cup Carlos’s cheek. “You lost a lot of blood, that was the biggest concern. But nothing vital was damaged, the wound itself was irregular because of the angle and speed of the glass shards, so it was a little complicated to fix but they did it. And you’re going to be just fine, with some time off work and a lot of love from me,” he ends with dropping a kiss to Carlos’s forehead.

“I’ll be back on my feet in no time.”

“Yeah,” TK nods. “I know.”

“I’m sorry I scared you, I really didn’t mean to,” Carlos says, knowing exactly what’s on TK’s mind. “It all happened so fast and…”

“I know, babe,” TK reassures him. “I just wish that—”

“No,” Carlos interrupts. “Don’t go there, babe. This wasn’t your fault.”

TK blows out a sigh, dropping his eyes to Carlos’s stomach, where he knows there’s a large piece of gauze covering his side under the blankets and hospital gown.

“Hey, Ty, look at me,” Carlos pleads.

Slowly, TK lifts his eyes to meet Carlos’s. TK can see specks of exhaustion at the corners of Carlos’s kind eyes, but in the middle sits steel determination.

“This wasn’t your fault,” Carlos repeats.

“Now you sound like your father,” TK says with a small smile.

Carlos chuckles weakly. “Well, he’s right.” Then a pause. “What if I had left you and then you were the one who got hurt? Who would have helped you and gotten you out? That wasn’t a chance I was willing to take. I never would have gone and left you in there, TK.”

Carlos extends an arm and places his palm on the nape of TK’s neck, gently pulling him closer until their foreheads are touching and resting against each other.

They both close their eyes, staying like that for a few moments as they take it all in. Breathing each other in. And even with the scent of antiseptic hanging in the air around them, TK can distinctly smell Carlos. And the heavy weight sitting on his chest starts evaporating.

They pull back, but not before Carlos brushes a tentative kiss to TK’s cheek.

“How are you doing?” Carlos asks his fiancé.

“I’m okay,” TK replies.

Carlos can see through it, though and raises an eyebrow at TK. “Really? Because I know I just woke up from surgery and all, but I have a feeling you look worse than I do.”

“I can get you a mirror if you’d like,” TK attempts at a comeback but it comes out flat and deflated. He sighs. He watches Carlos for a few moments before continuing. “I was just…really scared. It all seemed really bad for a moment there and…” he trails off with a shrug.

Tears start to gather in TK’s eyes as he slips his hand into his pocket and closes his fist around the ring, pulling it out but not opening his palm yet.

“And then the nurse placed this in my hand when you were being wheeled away from me,” TK opens his palm then, revealing the silver jewelry. “And looking at it, it felt like I had just said goodbye to you,” his voice breaks.

“Querido,” Carlos whispers, his own eyes now filled with tears. Darling.

“This ring symbolizes me giving you a piece of myself, because I am yours. And when the ring was given back to me…it felt like you were gone,” TK sniffs, letting the tears fall.

“No, baby, no,” Carlos’s own voice wavers. He clutches tightly at TK’s hands, covering his open palm. “You will always be mine, just as I will always be yours. I’m here, I’m here and I’m okay. We’re okay.”

“Always,” TK whispers.

He’s still feeling the pain and hurt, the almost-grief, but Carlos’s words ease them all and a glimmer of hope starts brewing in his chest instead. Hope born out of their love, out of their touch. They are each other’s always.

TK sits up straight and clears his throat. “Now, I believe this belongs to you.”

The smile at takes over Carlos’s face is blinding as TK takes his hand and slips the ring back on his finger where it belongs.

“From me to you,” TK says, looking into Carlos’s soft eyes.

“Always,” Carlos whispers into the space between them.

TK plants a kiss on the ring and then closes the distance between them with a chaste kiss to Carlos’s lips. The kiss is gentle, tender, but carries a river of emotions with it. It is comfort, it is reassurance, it is safety. It’s everything and more.

TK’s phone pings just as they separate and quick glance tells him who’s on the other side of the text.

“Your mom,” TK tells Carlos. “She’s already planning the make-up dinner.”

An amused look takes over Carlos’s face. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“She and your dad will be happy to know you’re fully awake now,” TK says as he types back. “Everyone will be.”

Carlos smiles, already looking forward to seeing his family.

“And don’t you think I forgot about the new cooking and baking equipment you want,” TK lifts an eyebrow with a smirk. “We can check them online and buy all the ones you want.”

“They’ll come in handy when I’m recovering, that’s for sure,” Carlos replies, a hint of excitement coating his voice.

“And I am looking forward to your cooking and baking spree. As long as you don’t overwork or strain yourself.” After a moment of consideration, TK adds, “and we can hold off on the towels and sheets for now.”

“Are you sure?” Carlos asks, eyebrow lightly knitting together.

TK nods. “Yeah. Besides, I’ve come to realize that it’s you who makes that condo…home. You’re my home, ‘Los.”

“And you’re my all, Ty,” Carlos returns, pulling TK in for a passionate kiss.

TK’s eyes roam over Carlos’s face when they come up for air. He can draw Carlos’s features with his eyes closed, but he finds himself documenting every single detail, every ridge, every speck of the man mere inches away from him.

TK’s heart soars when Carlos gives him the smile that’s reserved for only him.

And TK thinks, yeah, we’re gonna be just fine.

[ka-writes]

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Notes: READ WARNINGS!!

Please I really want you to be safe.. anyways, this is mainly a set up for the next chapter.. it has a shit ton of angst prepare yourself.

Also am very sorry it is late!! ‘‘Twas very hard for me to start writing it, btw I started another AU please go check it out, thank you <3

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Warning: Torture I go into detail, gore, cussing manipulation, characters lose sense of reality.

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In case you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 6:

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Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

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Ao3 link for this work:

And my other AU:

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Change 7: This is a dream… right?

——————

He was back where he started this whole thing.

In a cage.

One cage over from the door and now in the middle of the room. It felt empty and bare, yet full of an uncomfortable sense of dread and fear, though he would never admit that aloud.

This time there was only one other cage in sight. The room had changed as well. It was no longer covered in grime, or smelled of blood. Instead it was a sickly white and smelled of rubbing alcohol. Which caused his nose to burn with the overwhelming scent of the cleaning supplies, making the entirety of the room feel more and more like one of those horror stories in hospitals, the only difference being that this one was real.

The thing that replaced the other cages and humans was an operating table with vials and tools that Tommy couldn’t identify.

There were no lights currently, except for the same small door window, which was the only thing that really stayed the same.

It was cold, it felt empty. There was no description fit for the amount of dread Tommy felt. It was built up after laying in the dark for so long. It burned his gut and made his head swirl with thoughts of what would happen next.

He wouldn’t ever admit he was scared, but the situation kinda explained itself.

Without warning the door swung open. No squeaks like last time, just a smooth motion allowing the room to be basked in yellow light from the hall.

Then the lights turned on, immediately causing Tommy to shut his eyes. His head started throbbing and every fiber in his body screamed at him to run. The lights turned into blurry blinding blobs that lit everything in a white fire, making it apparent that the room was indeed scrubbed of any stains or blood. Once his eyes finally adjusted, his migraine caught up to him, making the entire thing unbearable.

“Hello there!” An alien stepped in the room. Their features were outlined in white and their skin wasn’t even recognized, simply because it looked like a shadow. They had claw-like hands and wore glasses over their white to red eyes. They had a black doctor’s coat and wore black pants with white knee high boots. They had a devilish tail along with devil horns and a floating white halo. Their fangs poked out from a blinding white mouth, which was curved into a practiced smile.

“My name is BadBoyHalo, but you will refer to me as Dr. Halo.” They finished with a sickly sweet tone and a side smile, “My pronouns are he/him, and I will be taking care of what happens while you’re here.. not that you will ever leave of course.”

His mind was racing. Everything told him this was real, but he couldn’t help but pray that it was all a sick dream.

“Now we will start off easy and move onto the harder stuff later! Please refrain from trying to run, we have a shock function attached to your translators.” This caught him off guard. Why was he using plural tenses?

He looked towards the other cage, that’s when he noticed the strange bee alien also wearing a petrified expression. His eyes didn’t wander to the other cage, only watching Dr. Halo.

“Now who do we start with?” The doctor asked, even though he clearly already knew. A twisted smile shone on his face letting the light catch the awfully amused glint in his eyes, “Let’s start with the droneling!”

——————

There was no explanation for where the two went.

They simply vanished. No traces to follow or reasons to run.

The only logical explanation was Dream catching them. Which meant Techno would have to ask around for where the ship was harboring. The only problem being, he was awful at talking to people.

“So what do you wanna know?” A tall Wollylock person asked, she was the only known person to know anything about Dream, being his mother and all.

“Er- information on the Dream Team Ship.” Techno stated rather awkwardly.

“Why?” The captain asked, impatience clearly visible with her expression.

“They took two starlings from my crew.” At that the captain practically fumed with furry.

“I will help. After all, that boy needs to learn some manners.” The captain stated, her determination was infectious. “What is your craft’s name?”

“The SBI Craft, piloted by captain Philza.” He said robotically.

“Course it has to be Phil. That man has what, four kids he claimed to his crew..”

“Technically, I am not a kid, neither is Wil- Er our scientist, so really he’s only harboring three kids, now one since two were taken..” Techno decided that was the best explanation he could come up with, though there was really no point.

The captain chuckled and brushed off the other’s attempts at defending the crew. “Just send me the ship’s cords and your captain’s contact and I will be in touch.” With that the captain slid a communicator over the table and walked out of the sketchy bar.

Techno made his way back to the ship and delivered his captain the news. He tried to ignore the gut feeling that everything was wrong…

——————

(The next section has graphics depictions of torture and gore, please skip this section if it could or will trigger you in any way, there is a summary at the end. Thank you <3)

The world moved unbearably slow. The cage opened ever so smoothly, making him want to throw up. It was the sign that everything was going to go to hell.

That’s what this has to be right? A hellish nightmare that wasn’t real..

No that wasn’t right..

Did it matter?

A hand yanked his wrist out of the cage and into the blinding white room, that felt like fire surrounding him as he stepped to the operating table.

Needles and scalpels were set neatly on a silver tray. The restraints were heavy and felt like they burned his wrists and ankles. He was pushed onto the table as the ‘doctor’ slapped on gloves. More restraints were clipped over his waist and thighs.

Then something pinched his leg. He felt the blood rushing it’s way down to the cut, as a scalpel carved out a rectangle. He could hear scissors cutting something, and distant screams… were they from him?

He didn’t know at this point. More agonizing cuts on his legs along with a couple of needle pin marks.. a couple snaps of an illusion disk and a bit of writing, on both his skin and paper..

He couldn’t really feel anything after the first one, only simply knowing that his body was reacting to the pain yet his brain hadn’t quite caught up with reality.

It was like he wasn’t exactly controlling his body, just simply existing in the dream-like state. Time didn’t exist there, neither did recognition of the pain. Emotions ran wild. Turning all of his thoughts sour as he attempted to remember what happened.

It wasn’t until the doctor un-clipped him and put him back into the cage that he noticed the other.

That’s who did this to him. That’s the person that pushed him through pain.

The human wore a terrified expression as the doctor took him out for his turn.

He couldn’t help but smile at the other’s pain. The other deserved it..

Right?

(If you skipped this, Tubbo got tortured and blamed Tommy for the situation.)

——————

“IT’S BEEN A FUCKING MONTH! And you still haven’t found your son’s damn ship?!” The man on the other line was furious, and rightfully so.

Puffy undoubtedly understood the anger the man had. I mean she had been in the situation before when her youngest was kidnapped by another crew of pirates. The only difference in this situation was she was fighting against her son, her duckling… when did her duckling turn sour?

“You’re right about that, Phil. I can assure you Niki is doing everything in her power to track them down, along with Jack.” Jack joined the team after Puffy met Niki.

She must admit that having someone working in the ISF had its perks. Though no one could fully trust him. For good reason of course.

“Ponk is ‘talking’ to Sam, he sure as hell ain’t cracking yet.” She finished bitterly, “Like I said Quakity is waiting for his monthly letter from his fiancé, which would hopefully give us a clue at where to look.”

“I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it’s been a month.. Wilbur said the humans barely last a full week if they aren’t treated..” The worry was lining his face and causing the bags under his eyes to look more like nasty black eyes. His face was sullen making it apparent the man hadn’t been eating properly. His wings ruffled at every noise and he seemed to be running purely on coffee. Puffy wanted nothing more than to return the man’s unofficial sons back to him.

——————

Everything was great!

The plan worked perfectly, and Sam hadn’t cracked yet.

Meaning he could easily start on the next faze. The only issue would be he’d have to gain both of the starling’s trust.

Even if the present was a bitter reality lined with things that would annoy him, the end result would be worth it.

Having a human and a nuke expert by his side would allow him to have everything he ever wanted.

Power.

Not just power, but all the things that came with it. He wouldn’t be questioned again, and everything and anything he said would be the final word.

It would be hell for those who crossed him, and even worse for those who abandoned him.

Wilbur, Sam, Ant, Quackity, Foolish, and even mother dearest, Puffy. They would all pay for their disloyalty. Once this is all over, they would never cross him again.

I mean he did give up everything to gain this life.

There was nothing to lose and everything to win, and he’d be damned if he didn’t win.

I mean he sold his soul for this!

It was all worth it.. right?

Of course it is. Stop doubting me child.

——————

28 days of torture, and now they were sitting with their captors playing house.

It was wrong. So utterly wrong.

“Eat your food Tommy.” The captain commanded.

Tommy complied not wanting to go back in the cage. Every day he woke up there, more things were shoved into him and more pain was given.

“You too Tubbo.” The command was given and the other complied, the same fear visibly shown.

“Reports.” Dream stated sternly, the rest of the crew compiled without hesitation.

It was a bunch of regular reports of how no one knew where they were, what supplies needed to be restocked, the current condition of the ship, and any developments with the news. A bunch of boring bullshit. He bit back any sarcastic remarks that threatened to spill, but refrained in fear of what they would do to him.

The crew was dismissed leaving Tubbo, Tommy, and Dream alone.

“I want both of you to listen.” Dream started his tone raising all hairs on the back of Tommy’s neck, “Phil and his crew led you to us. They didn’t comply the first time and poisoned your minds. We did the right thing, and fixed you. Now, there are some rules you have to follow. You may not wander the ship, only go anywhere with one of the crew members. You will both share a room and follow the same schedule. Anything you do that is not an order deserves a punishment, for it is proof of what the other crew poisoned you with. Now! Go to your room, it has a black door.” With that the man finished and the pair headed towards their room.

The speech sounded right, yet felt wrong. But everything was justified, therefore it was fine. Plus the worrying was just a problem for future Tommy, maybe that’s what Dream meant by the other crew poisoning him.

The other said nothing as they entered the room, only fixing Tommy with a bitter gaze which turned into something of confusion. Neither one slept, they couldn’t bring it in themselves to sleep, especially since Dream hadn’t told them to.

Instead both of them settled into a silence as they lay on their bed, only getting up when the man told them too. This was all they could really do as they faced their new reality. Slowly but surely their brains began to believe every word of the speech. Finally when the man asked to join him, a bubbly sickly joy gave them the grace to finally help their rescuer.

Six months after the initial capture, one month of torture and five months of vigorous training, consisting of fighting, weapon design, and hours of studying blueprints, they were finally able to go on their first mission with their rescuer, not questioning anything any of the crew said at this point. Sick months of training and they became living weapons ready for whatever the cruel world threw at them…

This is a dream.. right?

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Chapter 7- End

Words: 2221

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Notes:

Hahahaha I am in pain from writing this... please bare with me.. ;-;

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Dream is being a manipulative bastard... I mean the character. More specifically my take on Dream’s character in this situation... ahhhhh

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I hope you’re staying safe, don’t forget to take care of yourself!! <3 also likes are appreciated but reblogs are always better! <3

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[thetriggeredhappy]

Consider: the scene in the comics where Scout dies, but instead it's Spy who's dying and he actually has the balls to tell Scout the truth face-to-face before it's too late.

consider: this shit is gonna break your heart, anon. dad!spy hours

(warnings for canon-typical violence, extreme character injury, major character death)

-

Just his luck that he’d find himself alone with so many of those ridiculous robots and with his knee so destroyed. He at least managed to take down the one that finally got him.

These tin cans didn’t even know enough to understand how to efficiently kill someone, he seethed. He’d certainly be bleeding out shortly—he was fairly sure he had a punctured lung, among other things, but the blood loss would probably be what did him in—but god, it was taking forever.

He could take some solace in that he at least didn’t drag Sniper to die along with him, had sent him to try and pick off as many bots as he could from the windows. And... well, he was fairly sure he’d been as useful as he could have been in this fight. Helped kill one of the Classic team—two, if you counted throttling his own counterpart—and done some good recon work besides. This wasn’t the most poetic or heroic death, but he wasn’t a fan of poetry and had never considered himself much of a hero, so that was probably fair.

But that stupid robot had ruined his jacket, which he was pretty annoyed about. Not like it would matter in the long run, but frustrating regardless.

God, it was cold.

He lifted his head when he heard the sound of rapid footfalls echoing down the hall, growing closer. Hey, maybe he could trick some robot into finishing him off, at least. Save himself some time and excruciating pain. He would’ve gone for the cyanide tooth, but unfortunately, this was the one situation where he’d jumped for that option a little bit too early. Just his luck.

(God, it was cold.)

Oh, well. Bludgeoned to death by a Scoutbot at least promised to be relatively quick. They tended to go for the head.

He looked up to at least give a snide remark to his more rapidly-approaching death, only for them to get stuck in his throat as the death in question rounded the corner and made eye contact with him.

“Holy shit, Spy?” Scout asked, looking startled and a little out of breath.

“Merde,” Spy mumbled, and was a little caught off guard by how hoarse his voice was.

In a second Scout had taken a knee next to him and was surveying the damage, mouth running at a mile a minute. “Holy shit we were lookin’ everywhere, Sniper showed up because I guess he was dead but now he’s better apparently and he said you two split off for some reason but you’d been fuckin’ kneecapped and—dude, you look like shit, what happened?”

“What does it look like?” Spy asked dryly.

“I mean, I don’t wanna give you an ‘I told you so’ or nothin’ but this is kinda what you get for disappearing and running off on your own all the time,” Scout pointed out.

He almost couldn’t feel the tiny ache of guilt that put in his chest underneath all the other much more life-threatening aches that were also in his chest. “Well, I’d say I’ve learned my lesson, but I think unfortunately I won’t be able to demonstrate any time soon,” Spy replied, and yeah, there was a puncture to his lung. He had to fight hard to hold down a cough, and only because he knew it would sound extremely pathetic.

“Okay, uh—can you move? Okay, you can’t move,” Scout seemed to decide. “Uh, okay, okay so I’ll uh—so I’m gonna go get Medic, and—he’s fast too we should be able to get back here in like ten minutes flat, easy! Just, I guess try and hold your guts in, I’ll be right back with help!”

Considering the amount of injured Medic was likely to be, he very much doubted Scout would be back with Medic in only ten minutes. And considering the way that his vision was swimming and how distorted Scout’s face got towards the tail end of that last sentence, he doubted he would make it ten minutes anyways.

And he found unexpected panic suddenly rising up in his chest at the thought of dying alone, here in a hallway surrounded by broken mechanical parts and acrid smoke. He forced himself into motion despite the way it made the entire room suddenly seem to careen to the left, and managed to catch Scout by the leg of his ridiculous trousers before he could take off again. “Wait,” he croaked. “Wait.”

“I, no, I gotta go get Medic, I’ll take like ten seconds—“ Scout was quick to assure, so quick that Spy realized he was legitimately worried.

“I’ll—“ Spy started, and paused to clear his throat just to give himself enough time to think of an excuse to have Scout stick around for a minute. “I’ll be fine to wait a little longer, but first I had something important to say.”

Scout frowned. “Yeah?”

And he did. He absolutely did. The problem was that this excuse was... hm.

The problem was that this was something he’d been putting off. The larger part of the situation for about 20 years, and then more directly for about six. And Spy thought that surely he would work up the courage to get to it over the course of their employment, only for it to be unexpectedly terminated, and he decided, well, that was that. He would just have to live with it. But then they got arrested and the thought that surely he would get to it over the course of their time in prison, and once again he didn’t, couldn’t seem to force himself into that conversation, not when he was trapped, not when he couldn’t run from whatever outcome ended up happening.

And now he was dying. And for all he knew, Scout was going to die shortly as well. And in most of the ways that mattered, Spy was the only person who could really answer this question, because apparently Scout’s mother had committed to the lie he’d asked her to tell, had continued to stay headstrong on helping to cover up how he’d faked his death. And how was she to know he was really dead, surely Scout would never bring it up—

If he didn’t tell Scout now, Scout would never know.

Scout would go the rest of his life never getting answers about his father.

“Merde,” he mumbled again, slumping back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut against the way the world was spinning, feeling motion sick.

He heard Scout take a knee again, and after a second he hesitantly prompted him. “Uh, what? What is it? What’s up?” he asked carefully.

Spy forced himself to open his eyes, and was a little startled by how difficult it was. He focused hard on one of his own shoes, trying his best to make the world stop spinning so fast. He swallowed hard to try and clear his throat, steady his voice. It almost worked. “This is very important,” he started with, and forced sharpness into his tone. “So I will not be needing any of your little jokes and quips and interruptions.”

“Y... yeah, okay,” Scout said, and the worry was extremely easy to read on his face, and Spy kind of hated that.

Spy considered his words. “You’ve mentioned before that you never knew your father,” he decided to open with. Scout immediately began to frown. “And... and I never said anything. Even though that was a very brave thing to bring up.”

Scout opened his mouth to reply before remembering himself and shutting it again.

“And I wanted to apologize,” Spy managed to choke, and he kept track of Scout’s expressions in his periphery, finding it easier to hold on to that way than by trying to look at him directly. “Because you’re never going to get the chance to know your father, not really. Not in the way you deserve, and it’s my fault.“

“Spy, what the fuck does that even mean?” Scout demanded, and maybe the anger starting to flood into his voice was fair. “You—what did you do?”

“You deserved to have a father,” Spy said, and it couldn’t have been more obvious that he was dodging the question, but maybe he wanted to be obvious, just for a minute. “A good one, who did all sorts of ridiculous fatherly things for you. And it’s not your fault that you didn’t. You deserved to. You did.”

God, it was cold.

“And he should have been there for you, and for your family,” Spy continued, and felt his stomach lurch unexpectedly, and had to shut his jaw tight for a moment, tight enough to feel his fake teeth aching. “And he should have supported them and been a good father, and your life should have been made much more easy than it was, and you should not have needed to get in fights and become a criminal in the first place, and you should never have needed to sign up to become a murderer in some terrible desert in New Mexico among a pack of assassins and madmen.”

“Spy, I, I should get Medic—“ Scout tried to cut in, moved as if to stand back up. Spy snared a hand in the front of Scout’s shirt, and though he knew full well that he wasn’t strong enough to actually stop Scout in any capacity, he froze up anyways.

“And—and I know that you deserved a real father, and I knew that,” Spy said, “and I know there is no excuse that can ever be given. There is nothing that I can ever say to make it up to you, or to your mother, or your brothers, nothing. And I should have been there but I was scared and I was convinced I was being hunted and I cared too much about all of you to let that happen because of me, and it was selfish—“

“Spy,” Scout said, and it took all the strength that Spy had just to look at him, and there were a lot of emotions on his face just then. He saw realization, for one. Shock, astonishment maybe.

And for the first time in maybe his entire life, Spy decided that he just needed to be honest. 

“I’m your father, Jeremy,” Spy croaked.

Silence. Long, long silence. In the far distance, gunshots and explosions and yelling, soft enough that he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t his imagination.

“You gonna try and say some kind of cool line, now, too?” Scout asked, and his voice was sharp enough to sting, and Spy winced at it. “Some kind of bullshit about how it, it was for my own good? Or that it’s—that you always cared from far away or some shit, that it was better this way? Gonna ask me to fuckin’ forgive you, here on your deathbed?”

“No, I am not,” Spy replied, voice faint. “I know there is nothing I can say to make it up to you. Words are insufficient.” He breathed deeply and forced down the instinct that was telling him to cough. “But I would rather not leave you wondering forever. I thought... this was better than nothing.”

Scout made a noncommittal noise. Silence.

“I get the distinct impression that you are angry with me,” Spy managed.

“Duh, I’m mad at you. Jesus fuck, you have no clue how mad I am at you. But I’m not...” Scout paused to think over his words. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at... old you. The you who ran off. And... I dunno. Kinda seems like you hate that guy too.”

“Very much,��� Spy confirmed.

“Yeah. I dunno. I guess... I dunno.” Scout paused for a long moment. “And... maybe this is better than nothing, I guess. Because... it’s not the same or nothin’, but... I dunno. At least I know now. And... at least I know what my dad’s like now. That’s something.” 

Silence. Spy managed a nod, but not words.

When Scout spoke again, his voice was uncharacteristically level. “You’re gonna die here, aren’t’cha, Spy?”

“Oui. I have no doubt in my mind,” Spy sighed, so quietly that he wasn’t sure Scout could hear it.

Scout was quiet for a minute. He moved to pull Spy’s hand off of his shirt (not that it was difficult), and for one terrifying moment Spy thought he was about to just drop Spy’s hand and stand up and leave him to rot in some hallway on an uncharted island where he would never be found. His vision was darkening rapidly, and he didn’t think he had the strength to try and stop him again, or that it would even work.

But instead Scout clasped Spy’s hand in his own and held it tight to his chest, squeezing Spy’s shoulder beneath his hand. “Run hell, asshole,” Scout said with the slightest of smiles, and it was so like Scout to be joking just then, to be trying to comfort him just then even if it was in his own way, to find the most indirect, roundabout method of letting Spy know that things were okay. And it made Spy laugh, and laughing was the last thing that Spy remembered.

-

He saw the last of the color drain from Spy’s face, the way the muscles there slowly went slack, and after a long moment he moved the hand from Spy’s shoulder to check for a pulse. He shifted to try again three times, not positive he was doing it right, before realizing, no. He was definitely doing this right. Spy was dead.

He let his own hand drop, then carefully laid down Spy’s.

Man. Twenty-seven fuckin’ years, and he finally finds his dad, and it’s Spy. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Spy would find a way to escape that kind of conversation and never look back, but he was a little surprised that his solution was apparently dying.

...

That wasn’t that funny.

Scout leaned back, scrubbed at his face with his hand, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. Conflicted emotions. Conflicted thoughts.

Jesus, he should’ve seen it. That dumb dream he’d had back at Heavy’s house when he’d almost died, the stupid jokes Spy kept making about his Ma and the suspicious amount of information Spy had about him, way more than was probably on any official record. And the weird shit Heavy had been saying to him, and all the times Spy stuck his neck out for him when he really didn’t have to—

He didn’t think it was obvious enough for him to guess, but it was definitely obvious enough to suspect.

...So being an asshole ran in the family, huh?

He sat back on his heels.

...His Ma always said they had similar eyebrows. And their eyes in general, apparently. Ears. The mask made it kinda hard to tell.

The mask.

For a few seconds, Scout really genuinely considered taking the mask off.

This was his dad. Ma apparently lost the few pictures she had of him years ago, and this was his only chance. If he didn’t look now, he’d never really know what his dad looked like. Not in a real way. And didn’t he deserve to know? Hadn’t he earned this?

But he couldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t. That was a kind of disrespect he couldn’t stoop to, not even to a dead guy.

He didn’t know why, but he felt himself tearing up.

If he made it out of this alive, he made a promise to himself. He was gonna talk to Miss P—those two were friends, right?—and he was gonna find out more about Spy. He’d hire a private eye if he had to, he’d spend every penny of his Tom Jones money figuring out everything he could. Spy hadn’t given him a lot to work with, but it was something. It was enough.

He wiped his eyes, rocked forward to stand, shook himself. For a second he thought about getting Medic, seeing if he could work his magic, but he’d only seen Sniper for a minute, only long enough for him to say that coming back to life was a one-time deal. He took a deep breath and turned, starting to walk down the hallway. Running off felt wrong just then.

Maybe God was looking out for him, just then, because that meant he hadn’t turned the corner down the hall, which meant he heard the feeble little cough behind him and could turn around, could see that Spy had a hand lifted.

A pause to process.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Scout scathed in the angriest voice he could manage, even as he felt tears leap into his eyes.

[iclaimedtobethebetterbard]

his name was chad - chapter 1

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides Rating: Teen & up (see Warnings) Relationships: Lamp (with a focus on Logince and Moxiety), Dukeceit Warnings: Language, sexual humor/innuendo, mostly non-graphic violence, temporary major character deaths, minor animal death (not all of these are in this chapter, but I like to put general fic warnings on the first chapter) Word count: 1782 Notes: Based on that one short Thomas made ages ago; fic is mostly to be treated humorously. 

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My writing masterpost

Summary:  “We thought it’d be fun to make an apocalypse game!” Roman explained. “One we can fully immerse ourselves in!” “Well, technically,” Remus put in, “it’s part apocalypse, part western, part post-apocalypse, part zombie apocalypse—” “No! No zombies! We’ve been over this!” Roman snapped. “Right, right, I keep forgetting. Part horror, part thriller, part mafia game, part—” “I think we get the picture,” Logan interrupted. “A mishmash of ‘edgy’ genres you both enjoy, am I correct?”

 Chapter 1

“Everyone!” Roman shouted from the common area at the top of his lungs. “Hey, everyone, c’mere! Right now!”

“What the hell do you want?” Virgil demanded, rising up at once.

“Wait, wait, wait wait wait. Logan! Patton!” Roman called for their other boyfriends.

Remus popped up between Roman and Virgil, making them both jump. “Janny!” he added in an ear-grating shriek.

“What on earth is the matter, Roman?” Logan inquired as he and Patton made their way into the room.

Roman glanced around just as Janus rose up in the corner, taking up residence lurking in a dramatic puddle of shadow. “Good, everyone’s here. Come see what me and Remus made!”

“Oh, you mean the thing you two have been holed up working on for two weeks now that nobody has been allowed to ask about?” Logan said, sounding interested.

“Yeah, that!” Roman grabbed his and Virgil’s hands. “Everyone come on!”

Patton followed just behind his three boyfriends; Remus and Janus, somewhat surprisingly, followed at a more leisurely pace, Janus leaning on Remus as he wrapped an arm around Janus’s waist, held his hand, and talked a mile a minute in a voice too low for the others to make out.

Roman led the group to the workshop he and Remus shared, having everyone gather in a huddle around a table with a large piece of fabric covering whatever was on it. “Ready?” he asked dramatically.

“No, can I take a nap first?” Virgil inquired sarcastically.

“Some other time, my stormy darling. Behold!” Roman drew the cloth away with a flourish.

“Ooh, it’s a little world!” Patton exclaimed.

“Fascinating,” Logan commented, leaning closer to examine the miniature landscape, dotted with buildings and trees. “What is it for?”

“It’s a game!” Remus piped up from the back of the group. He let go of Janus and elbowed his way between Virgil and Patton. “And we’re going in it! Blood and guts and gore and death!”

“What?” Patton inquired, sounding distinctly nervous.

“What do you mean, in it? What do you mean, death?” Virgil demanded.

“Oh, cool your tits, the death is just for realism,” Remus said, waving his hand.

“That is not reassuring!”

“No, no, wait, listen!” Roman interrupted frantically. “He’s explaining it all wrong! Virgil, listen, I promise it’s not that bad!” He paused. “Well.”

“See?” Virgil pointed an accusing finger at him. “What the hell are you two up to?”

“We just thought it’d be fun to make an apocalypse game!” Roman explained. “One we can fully immerse ourselves in!”

“Apocalypse?” Virgil demanded, sounding torn between delight and outrage.

“I don’t know…” Patton put in hesitantly.

Logan looked up from where he had still been examining the table. “This is an impressive level of detail work, Roman, Remus. You should be proud of yourselves.”

“Don’t encourage them!” Virgil snapped. “Not when they’re apparently trying to get us all killed for fun!”

“What?” Logan blinked. “Oh, that. I imagine it will be harmless.”

“Yeah!” Remus backed him up immediately.

“Yeah,” Roman echoed a beat later, less certain.

“Logan,” Virgil said, “they are trying to put Patton in an apocalypse. In what world is that a good idea for anyone?”

“Well, technically,” Remus put in, “it’s part apocalypse, part western, part post-apocalypse, part zombie apocalypse—”

“No! No zombies! We’ve been over this!” Roman snapped.

“Right, right, I keep forgetting. No zombies yet. But it is part horror, part thriller, part murder mystery, part mafia game, part—”

“I think we get the picture,” Logan interrupted. “A mishmash of ‘edgy’ genres you both enjoy, am I correct?”

“Oh, that’s a good way of putting it.” Remus nodded.

“It will be fun, I promise,” Roman said. “We made it! Just for everyone in this room! So it’ll be okay. We made such cool character designs for everyone, you’re going to love it, just please can we play just one time please?” He turned pleading eyes on all three of his partners.

“And you’re sure this will be safe?” Logan asked, just to be sure. Both Patton and Virgil looked too nervous for his liking and could likely use the reassurance.

“Absolutely!” Roman assured him.

“Probably,” Remus amended.

“Shut up! We know what we’re doing!” Roman smacked his brother’s arm.

“The effects will look, feel, sound, and smell realistic,” Remus said. “Try not to die gruesomely. Or don’t, it will be lots of fun to watch guts going everywhere.” He lit up and looked over at Roman. “Hey, can we add—”

“For the sixteenth time, we said no zombies on the first run!” Roman stamped his foot.

“Boo.” Remus rolled his eyes and glanced back to Patton. “But yeah. It’s safe from the outside. We’ll just be on the inside, you know?”

“What does that mean?” Patton asked nervously.

“Don’t worry about it,” Remus said instantly, grinning very wide indeed.

“Patton.” Roman took both Patton’s hands in his own. “I would never ask anything of you if I wasn’t perfectly sure I could keep you safe. It’s all just effects, I promise.”

“You’re sure?” Patton said.

“I promise,” Roman repeated. He glanced up at Virgil, who was hovering darkly just behind Patton’s shoulder. “And that goes for everyone here, Doom and Gloom.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes and looked over at Janus, who was standing a little distance away from the rest of the group, examining his gloved nails. “And what do you think of all this?” he demanded suspiciously.

Janus looked up, blinking comically wide and raising his eyebrows. “Hm? Oh, I’m sorry, I was under the impression that you ‘don’t like liars.’ Why would you ask me?”

Virgil growled under his breath. “You know you’re self-preservation too,” he snapped.

“Oh, yes, of course, it’s just fun to make you admit it.” Janus gave Virgil a very self-satisfied grin.

Virgil glared at him. “Just shut up and answer my question. Are you going in there?” He pointed at the landscape on the table.

“Maybe. I haven’t decided.” Janus shrugged, seeming disinterested. “You should definitely go, though, I’d love to watch you get taken out by tripping on a rock or something.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Janus smirked. “I suspect your boyfriend collection would be unhappy with that idea.”

“Fuck off, you know I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Oh, is it bullying Virgil hours?” Remus inquired, looking up from the landscape on the table.

“No, hey, wait—” Patton began in protest.

“Shush, Daddyo, it’s all in good fun,” Remus said without looking away from Janus.

“Isn’t it always, darling?” Janus responded as if Patton’s interruption had not taken place.

Remus grinned. “Ooh, fair point.”

“I hate you guys,” Virgil announced.

Janus blew him a kiss. “Thank you ever so much.”

Remus draped himself over Virgil, with his chin resting on Virgil’s shoulder. “So whatcha talking about?” he asked.

“This loser won’t tell me if he’s participating in the game or not,” Virgil snapped, jerking a thumb at Janus.

“Ooh, ‘loser.’ Very nice. Classy. Screams ‘seventh grade,’ that’s how you know it’s a mature and grownup insult,” Janus commented.

“Baby, you aren’t playing?” Remus gave Janus a pair of very distressed, pleading puppy dog eyes. “I worked so hard on it! You’re going to be so sexy, I made you such a cool backstory!”

“No, no, of course I’ll play,” Janus assured him composedly. “I was only messing with Virgil.”

“Hey!” Virgil snapped.

“I’d love to see all the horrors your mind has come up with,” Janus went on with a startling sincerity, serenely ignoring Viril. “You’ll have to be sure and show me everything.”

Remus lit up. “Oh, I will!” He pushed away from Virgil and ran to take both Janus’s hands in his own. “I made you a whole lair thing, it’s so cool, it has so many—”

“Why don’t you show me?” Janus inquired, raising one of Remus’s hands to his lips to press a kiss to it.

Remus vibrated with excitement. “Yeah, okay!” He glanced over at Roman.

“You can go ahead early, you have a little more setup to do anyway,” Roman said, waving his hand. “We’ll catch up to you.”

Remus grinned and drew Janus close by the waist—and they both vanished.

Virgil yelped, looking distinctly alarmed.

“Never fear!” Roman assured him. “They’re just in the game!” He pointed down at the landscape; two little tokens, in green and yellow, had appeared on it. “Is everyone ready to go?”

“How long will this take, again?” Logan asked.

“A couple of hours,” Roman said. “Time goes slower inside the game by default, but Remus and I can mess around with it a little if we need to.”

“And the goal of the game?” Logan asked.

“To have fun! Also not die. There’s a little bit of a story but there’s also lots of room to play around. Don’t worry, the only thing that happens if you die is you’re out of the game and you come back here. The winner gets a minifigure of their character! And bragging rights.”

Logan and Virgil both perked up at this second prize. Roman snickered. “So, is everyone ready?” he asked again.

“I just feel like it’s a little scary…” Patton said.

“Oh!” Roman snapped his fingers. “I knew I was forgetting something. We made a filter for you, Pat! It puts you on easy mode. Way less things will want to attack you. And me and Remus both have some of our mod abilities available for emergencies if you need us to change something!”

Patton thought about this for a minute, then nodded. “Okay. I think I can try it out, then.”

Roman grinned and kissed his cheek. “How about you, Gerard Gay?” He looked over at Virgil. “You in?”

Virgil grumbled to himself for a moment, then shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, fine, whatever. Jan went in, and he’s a better judge of safety than you or Remus.” He glanced away and mumbled, “Plus it sounds really cool, or whatever.”

“Normally I would be very offended, but I’m just happy you want to play.” Roman offered Virgil a dazzling smile. “Logan?”

“I will participate. I am curious to see what you have come up with.”

“Oh, I love you all so much!” Roman declared. “Alright, everyone come over here.” He shuffled them around until each of them was holding somewhere on one of his arms. “Now, the game will drop us in randomly within a certain area and timeframe, and then we just have to find each other! Have fun—it’ll start off easy and get more challenging as we get used to it!”

Roman pulled at the fabric of Thomas’s imagination itself, and there was a funny yanking feeling in everyone’s gut, and the world went dark for just a second.

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[ranaiki]

Split Apart | Chapter 1 - Meeting

wc: 1.4k

warnings: swearing (reader is called a bitch), fighting/assault. Reader is not good at fighting sorry.

a/n: this took me a little while to write because I was very unsure of how to introduce the characters. Once again, this is not beta-read since I’m a fairly new writer and have no writer friends, so I apologize if it isn't up to standard. If there are any spelling errors or grammatical errors, I’ll probably notice later on and fix it? Anyways, without further ado, I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

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Silence blanketed the Hyogo prefecture.

The air was thick with smoke, a grey haze hanging heavy over the cracked and collapsed buildings that lined the streets. The smog scratched at your throat and burned your eyes, the scarf that covered your mouth and nose providing little protection.

How long has it been now? A day? I’m so hungry...

As if on cue, your stomach growled loudly, sending sharp pains up through your ribcage. You gave a soft groan, breath puffing into the damp cloth wrapped around your face.

I gotta find something to eat, somewhere to rest.

Your whole body ached, feet sore from the non-stop walking and climbing you had done since last afternoon.

Dirt, blood, and oil were caked onto your clothes and skin, though at this point, you hardly minded. All you could focus on were your exhaustion, hunger pains, and the constant dull throbbing in your left arm where a deep gash had been made.

Most of the buildings around you were in tatters. Few had completely collapsed, but many had the roof caved in, or had been burnt in the fires that had followed the earthquake to the point where nothing inside would be salvageable.

Your hometown was almost unrecognizable.

Maneuvering through the streets was a difficult task, with rubble blocking the path every several meters, forcing you to climb over it.

More than once you had lost your footing and smacked against the broken pieces of tile and concrete, scratching up your legs and arms, and leaving your school uniform in tatters. It only added to the litany of things that were wrong at the moment.

As you continued on, you lifted your head, and the sight you were met with felt much like a miracle.

The convenience store that resided near your school was almost completely undamaged - scorch marks licked near the base of the cement structure, one of the walls was broken and crumbling, and the windows had all shattered - but it was still standing.

The idea of finding food put an extra spring in your step as you walked, helping you navigate the ruins around you and reach the front doors in record time.

Your feet crunched over the layers of broken glass as you entered the little shop, the bell that hung above the door giving a broken ring. You were amazed it was still intact.

Excitement burst through you as you spotted the shelves of food, all there for the taking. While it looked like it had already been sifted though, you didn’t linger on the thought for long. You lurched forward, snatching cans of meat and other foods, bags of chips, some of the bentos and pre-made meals resting in non-functional freezers, several bottles of water, and medical supplies.

It was like a shopping spree.

Everything that you deemed could be useful went into your once empty school backpack, filling the unused pockets to the brim. You went as far as to grab mini sewing kits and firestarters, lighters and utensils.

You filled your bag till it could be filled no more, before letting yourself collapse to the floor, with your backpack coming to a rest at your side.

The exhaustion that had been hanging onto you all day finally tore in, and you let out a breath of relief as your legs and feet got their much needed break.

Gingerly, you grabbed medical supplies you hadn't managed to fit into your bag, and cleaned and dressed all of your scratches, taking special care with the large wound on your arm and wrapping it up rather sloppily. It would do for now.

You let one of the bottles of fresh water run down your throat, quenching your unbearable thirst and soothing the painful scratchiness that had been caused by the smoke. You tore into packages of melonpan and onigiri of questionable freshness, but with the pangs of hunger that rushed through you, you didn't have the mind to complain.

You spent several long minutes refreshing yourself, filling your stomach with food and water, and making sure all of your wounds were patched up to the best of your ability.

As you were finishing, the broken sound of the bell in the doorway rang through the store. You paused in your ministrations, turning towards the front, and listening to the sound of heavy footsteps as they slowly approached.

A man stepped out into the end of the aisle you rested in, bulky and large, with soot covering him from head to toe and a ravenous look glimmering in his eyes.

You gave him a timid smile, wary of the way he held himself and looked at you.

He was still, not making a sound nor moving, and you gently pushed yourself to your feet, turning to face him with your bag still sitting on the floor next to you.

“I was just leaving.” You began, eyeing the stranger, still cautious and unsure of how to proceed. “Feel free to help-”

“You bitch!”

The man’s angry cry rang out. You had no time to react before he was in front of you, his body slamming you to the ground with brutal force.

You hit the cold tile of the convenience store floor, pain shooting up your spine. You coughed, eyes watering slightly as sharp aches blossomed through you. The shock that washed over you was only momentary, before the adrenaline kicked in, and you began struggling against him.

“Get off of me!” The man’s fingernails dug into your skin, scratching across the surface and reopening the wounds that littered your arms and body. You kicked your legs upwards, using your hands and feet to try and push him away. Sticky blood trickled down your arms as the gashes you had so meticulously wrapped and cleaned were torn open once more.

Anger rolled off of the stranger in waves, permeating the air around you. Fear crept up your throat like a sickening bile, making it hard to breathe.

You managed to land a knee into his gut, the hit solid and hard. He spluttered, breath knocked from his lungs, and scrambled off of you to regain his bearings.

You used the opportunity to get back to your feet, snatching your bag and sprinting past him.

His hand darted out, encircling your ankle, and dragging you back to the ground with another painful thud, the impact sending dull aches up your already battered and bruised frame.

Your lack of knowledge in self defense was suddenly painfully apparent.

Kick after kick and punch after punch were dealt to you as you tried to dodge and fight back, each of your own blows easily blocked. New bruises blossomed across unmarred expanses of flesh, soreness setting into your bones from each hit.

He was screaming at you in fury, his words slurred nonsense as his anger took over.

“This was supposed to feed my family for the next two months!” He screeched, split flying from his mouth in a disgusting spray.

The two minutes the man had been attacking you had felt like an eternity, time dragging on as pain seared through you.

A flash of silver just behind the stranger’s head caught your eye. There was the sound of two objects colliding - a solid thunk - before the man’s barrage of words came to a stop.

He froze above you, still for a second before his eyes closed, and he fell forward. His body landed in a limp pile just at your side, a tangle of limbs pinning you to the floor.

You cried out, pushing his arms off of you and scrambling away, breath heaving in your chest and eyes blown wide. The man was passed out cold on the convenience store’s floor.

Whoever had knocked him out was standing a few feet away, silently watching.

“Thank.. thank you.” You mumbled softly, breaking the stillness that had followed. Your knees were tucked up against your chest, gaze fixated on your attacker. You hardly even noticed the person standing a few feet away, hardly acknowledged him besides your meek expression of gratitude.

“Y/n?”

You blinked. Who knew your name? The way the person spoke, their voice, was oddly familiar, like a word sitting at the tip of your tongue.

Your head lifted, turning slowly towards your savior.

You were met with a young face and blond hair. Recognition melted over you, melded with confusion and relief.

“Atsumu?”

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[olderthanthemorning]

south london forever (sirius black) part 1

pairing: sirius black x reader

summary: "and everything i ever did was just another way to scream your name." in which reader remembers adolescence and a certain someone's youthful grin.

wc: 1.6k

warnings: mentions of drinking

a/n: look so i fell off the face of the earth for the past few months but i'm in school and also mentally unwell so that's my excuse. this didn't turn our the way i wanted it to but i feel like that's ok?? not quite as painful as it could've be. (also ik i need to do gold rush pt2 but ive been trying to write it and never like what i write so :/) anyway, feedback is always welcome! also request stuff! characters or songs!! (p.s. i'm obsessed with SOUR by olivia rodrigo rn so pls request songs !!)

the night bus jolted and shook you awake. it was a long journey from hogwarts, but you were finally near your own neighborhood. as you looked around, everything seemed just slightly different. you were suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you would never be in any of these places as a student, or a child, again. the old church that had at least 4 weddings every spring seemed a little faded, the park and playground where you and your mates would drink at night looked much smaller in the light of early summer.

within the playground was a swing set, which hadn't meant much to you until a year ago. after a night of singing way too loud with a group of your friends, the manager of the local pub, david, kicked the lot of you out. after a few playful swears and hand gestures to the man, you promised to be back the next night and headed across the street to sit and sober up before trying to climb back into your bedroom window. the group you were with seemed larger than usual so you linked arms with mary, a fellow witch that lived up the street from you.

"picked up a few stragglers, have we?" you asked. mary was a social butterfly, and when you didn't know someone, you could count on her to know them.

"yes! and even better, they're from school," she was careful not to name hogwarts. one of the only downsides of hanging out with muggles was having to police your conversations. "that one there is james," she said pointing at a boy in a slacks and a button down that looked like it was only tucked in a fraction of what it had been at the beginning of the night. his hair is neatly cut and he wears glasses, although they make him look young, like you can see him growing out of them in while you look at him.

"he looks like he's far from home," you laughed, the boy seemed far to sheltered to have been just thrown out of a gay bar.

"tell me about it," mary snorted, "but no he's here with the other one," she nods at another boy who looks more like the others. he has on jeans and a t-shirt that is just short enough to threaten showing his middle at any moment. his hair is dark and curly but a lot messier than james', like he had been listening to a lot of rolling stones. "he's called sirius. apparently he's staying with james this summer because his parents kicked him out. they're pure bloods, real pricks."

"you'd have to be a knob to call your kid sirius," you snickered, letting go of your friends hand and flopping onto the grass. you looked up and saw the upside-down face of sirius, "just wait until you hear my brother's name."

you feel yourself go pale and cover your face with a hand, "shit. i'm sorry," although embarrassed, you couldn't help but giggle.

he chuckled, "no, it's alright. but i your going to make fun of my name, i should at least know yours." he sat beside you, prompting you to sit up, and frantically brush the grass from your hair. "i'm y/n," you say, sticking out your hand, "and that's mary."

"hi mary," sirius give your friend a knowing smile, which confuses you. "you're both going into seventh year?"

you nodded and he continued talking for a bit. sirius seemed to be engaged in the conversation with you and mary but would look around every so often, like he was expecting something. over the course of a few minutes, he managed to refer to three family members as "dickheads," admit to a prank that had involved a charm on a library door that resulted a tidal wave dowsing whoever tried to open it, and start an argument about how the chudley cannons were so much better than the holyhead harpies. the last of which you disagreed with, hence the argument.

"come on sirius, you're not fighting about quidditch again, are you?" james sat down on mary's other side.

"i like to think of it as educating our new friends. they support the harpies, james. they need all the help they can get."

"no no, harpies are decent. they've got you there." james replied, smiling softly at mary.

"listen, y/n, do you want go on a walk?" sirius suddenly turns to you.

"um..." you're caught off guard by his forwardness, you only just met the guy.

"yeah, come on. just a short walk." he pulled you up to your feet and dragged you away.

you follow him into the middle of the street, illuminated by a dim yellow glow from a light post. "how come i've never met you at school?" he turns around to look at you, walking backwards.

"dunno, not looking hard enough i guess?" you tried to test the waters of flirting, since he tried so hard to get you alone.

"i guess not," he smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets. a silence fell over the two of you as you continued to walk, just around the block.

as you rounded the corner to the opposite side of the park from your friends you decide to speak again, "so do you just really like walks or something? this seems like something you could've done alone." you continue to follow him up to a swing set and sit down in the swing next to the one he had perched in.

"you can be kind of thick, you know?" sirius looked at you as if he had just explained a simple concept to you.

"i'm sorry?" you felt annoyed, like he was mocking you. "look, you're the one that asked to be alone with me and then go on acting like a preteen boy that's never kissed anyone."

"y/n, i wasn't trying to put the moves on you, honest. i know i can go on a walk alone, but it's a little awkward to make out with someone while their best friend's right there, innit?" he pointed across the park to where mary and james were coming up for air from a kiss, giggling.

"oh." a different kind of embarrassment washed over you. "how long has that been happening?"

"james hasn't shut up about her for about a week, but tonight was the first time he's had the guts to actually talk to her."

"right." you had a sudden wish to recall a hex that would allow you to melt into ice lolly goo and seep into the mulch at your feet. you took a chance and glanced at sirius, who was grinning at you. "please don't say anything, my ego is already bruised," you said, dropping your head again.

"i mean, i'm flattered, really," he clutched his heart, dramatically, "but if i was really trying to pull you, we would be long gone by now."

"wow, you know some people find humility endearing."

"not me. how could i be humble with a face like this?" you're unsure if your eyes have ever rolled this much before in your life.

"so your ego has also had enough attention for the evening," you laugh. there is another short silence, much less awkward than the one during your walk.

"it's a star, by the way," it's sirius who breaks it this time. "sirius is a star in canis major," you realize he's referencing to your comment about his name earlier.

"yeah, i know. brightest star in the sky, right?" night lessons in the astronomy tower hadn't prepared you for much, but it was proving helpful now.

"something like that. i agree with you though, it's a little much. my parents are kind of," he paused, "supercilious? that's not the right word. but i'm not sure there is a good word for what my parents are."

"i didn't mean to give you shit about it earlier. i actually like your name," while calling it your favorite name would be a stretch, but you felt like this was the sensitive thing to say. he couldn't change it, after all.

"thanks."

"oy!" james calls to you two. the entire group had gathered and was waving you over.

"well, i guess that's our queue," you stand up and walk back together, making small conversation on the way.

the group had gathered because it was apparently time to call it a night. everyone said their goodbyes and started walking their separate ways. you were now waiting on mary to say goodbye to james, as she was always your buddy to walk home with. once again, you're left with sirius as he waits for james.

"well, it was a pleasure to meet you y/n, i look forward to next time." he said. you rack your brain and try to remember if you had made plans to hangout again. you were drunk but not still drunk enough to have missing memories.

"next time?" you ask.

"i've already bragged about how quickly i could charm you. now i just have to prove it." you hope the light post is dim enough to hid your slight blush.

"well, then i look forward to disproving you." and with that, mary is ready and the two of you link arms once again to walk back towards your homes.

[shinglescat]

ooga booga

Previous stories here. Kanarielle’s character page here.

It’s been quite a few months already since the power transit already, and to everyone’s surprise Esmir not only did not mind it at all, she even welcomed the change with her arms wide open. She did protest once, however, at the start of it all, when her grandchildren expressed their demands for her - the old lady surely expected her grandson to take the reign just out of spite, not the fragile granddaughter; she voiced her concern, but they did not listen. Still, she was suspiciously okay with the turn of the events, and Mark guessed it was because of more of the available free time in her schedule for… debauchery and other side projects. Other than that, Esmir’s been insisting on them both showing off at a soiree, just to keep the nobility talking about them, sort of a power display, and Livaen planned everything out from there herself as the new head of the family, as the new Lady Sorano.

It wasn’t in his plans to go alone, yet the circumstances thought differently. Livaen managed to talk him into this, promising an easy evening and a “free-to-go” card after. As soon as he opened his mouth to agree on the occasion, his luck decided to go south - later the same evening Aspen had to leave him due to some “unforeseen events” in a complete urgency. Mark knew better than to ask, as it was near impossible to get anything out of the man, so he was left on his own until he met with an old friend of his again. The luck wasn’t on his side this time either; he had to attend the soiree alone anyways, even though he and his friend arrived together and even agreed on playing out a couple for the public to spare the elf from unwanted attention and unsolicited affection; the girl had to take care of a sudden matter at hand, so he left her in the Void to her own devices and proceeded with the gathering alone.

- Hope it went well, - she greeted him as soon as he showed up, notes of worry in her voice. She was modestly sitting on his bed, in one of the smaller residences of the family, watching him as he got upstairs, walked up to the bed and crashed into the sheets with his face down right beside her. Kana patted him on the back lightly, feeling of guilt making her cheeks turn red for leaving him like this alone, - I’m sorry you had to be there on your own tonight, - she quietly apologized, - Won’t happen again.

- It’s okay, don’t sweat it, - he raised his hand to stop her from saying anything else, mumbling into the bed, eyes closed, - Could’ve figured the luck wasn’t on my side, - he snickered, drained and overwhelmed with the spotlight he had to endure with no way for him to retreat. So much for the promised easy evening.

Kanarielle rolled her eyes.

- Man, if you aren’t a diva, - she reached his head with her hand, her nails scratching the scalp. The elf tensed up a bit, but then relaxed into the feeling, pleasure from the touch tingling at the nape of his neck, - You can complain now, please do begin.

Mark sighed loudly.

- Nothing to complain, - he took a moment to breathe in and out, to calm down the heart that was beating way too fast in his chest, - It was a ginormous lie. She promised an easy evening, but… I dunno, if that’s an easy evening for her, I’m dreading of the harder ones, - he turned on the spot, his back against the bed sheets, facing the elf girl, - There was a woman… Has to be from Livaen’s retinue. Very insistent and utterly… handsy, kept touching me the whole evening, - Mark groaned, remembering the altmer lady - Niluer, the touch of her fingers still lingering on his skin, her nails on his jaw as she tried to get his attention, - And I’m not mentioning the other ones that were eyeing me like I’m a piece of a fresh delectable meat or something. Felt like they were about to devour me alive.

The girl raised her eyebrow, chuckling.

- Oh boy, are they in for a surprise tomorrow, - she said, whispering, - when I’ll be the only one groping your ass in public… - Kana cheerfully slapped her knees in anticipation, nudging him with her elbow, obviously joking. Mark had none of that; he tried to push her away, grunting disapprovingly at the mental image, - Alright, alright, no groping, - she gently stroked his shoulder, adding in a small voice, - Though you are the piece of a fresh delectable meat, - her hands went up into his hair, fingers combing through it, - Thought no one’s gonna notice you return into the family? You are one helluva promising bachelor, – he whined, attempting once more to shove her off the bed. She slapped his tummy lightly in retaliation, - Oh, and let’s not forget your grandma! Anyone in their right mind would want to bask in her power, - Mark tried to say something, but she covered his mouth with a palm of her hand before he would voice anything, - They gon be fighting for your body parts, heart and hands, all that. BUT!, they are the least of your problems.

- And the big problems? – Mark forcefully removed the hand off his mouth, snorting and rolling his eyes.

This time she casually smacked him on his forehead, clap rather loud than painful, the sound muffled by cushions and furniture.

- You have a huge profit sign on your forehead, - Kana pointed her index finger right in between his brows, pressing it into the skin rather painfully, - that’s what I’m saying; they will use and do anything to get to you. And since Livaen is… you know, I’m not talking about her even here, this seems to summon her out of thin air – this makes you a better target.

- Ugh, don’t lecture me, - he brushed off her warning, knocking the hand away from the face, - Like I don’t know it, there are always the people who would suck a dick or two to get some benefits, - Mark looked at her, then shifted his gaze at the window. He tried to ignore the thought, dismiss it as if it was of no concern, tried to act tough, but his mind still lingered on the concept. With a sigh, he rubbed his eyes, set on steering the conversation away from him and the uncomfortable subject, - Was it the same in the Sanctuary? For you?

Kana shifted on the bed inelegantly, her entire spine stiffening up at the mention of the place. She looked nowhere.

-   No, not really, no, - she paused, reminiscing her own family, or rather those she used to call like that, - We’re far from nobility you saw there, though as far as I remember, - she hummed, biting her lip, memories resurfacing again after years of oblivion, - Mandil mentioned Bellaniel being a higher up member of the Falmeri society before the fall of the Snow Prince. We were more like a cult, I think, worshipping our blood and condemning the men, - Kanarielle snickered, - Imagine a club for old and bitter edgy elves – that’s us! It was similar for Ryl tho – Bellani intended on finding a party for her once she’s of age, marry her off to someone of their people, so they would “continue to carry on the legacy”, whatever that means, “of the last Snow Elves”, secluded in their own little world, of course, - something stirred inside her, and she paused, - Fuck, she’s probably married already, gotta have a kid, - her guts twisted unpleasantly, entire insides doing somersaults at once, a wave of nausea going up her throat. She tried to will it go away, but the awful feeling didn’t fade, - It’s been years since I last saw her. We were sixteen when I ran away, Mark, and Rylnir already had suitors courting her by that age, sucking up to Bellani, - the girl gasped for air loudly, as if suffocating, - They probably didn’t think of her anything but a hole in a piece of meat on the legs. We were just children, for fuck’s sake, but our fates were already decided for us.

Mark sat up straight.

- What about you? – he asked carefully, feeling uneasy, anxious of what she’s about to say, the memories likely distressing her.

- Dunno if I had it better, - she shrugged, leaning on his shoulder and hiding her face in the crook of his neck, - Ryl’s to become the next Matriarch once Bellaniel’s dead, and I was set to become the guardian to the realm. Bellani did everything to indoctrinate me, all that inspirational religious bullshit, and it honestly worked – I was bitter at men, at what they had done to us, - Mark hugged her by her shoulders, holding her tight against his side, feeling a faint shiver and a frequent, fast heartbeat, so strong it was reflecting in his own body, almost deafening. She was tense, her entire body stiff, ready to fight, - She played the “you’re the last of your kind” card, and I was dumb enough to fall to that. She poisoned me with hate, - the girl pulled back, looking into the elf’s eyes.

- You hate her too, - he whispered, cringing on the pain in his forearm, as she clung to it like to a lifeline, - No… You are afraid of her.

She sighed, releasing the arm from her grip, settling back on his shoulder. The fury, the anger she felt died out in a blink of an eye, replaced with an empty cold calm.

- I am, - her voice tranquil, - I used to hate her, now I’m just scared. She did everything to turn me into a willing vessel for Meridia, - she straightened her arm, reaching out into the air, green sparks swirling under her palm, - I was to become a purified, think you’re familiar what that means. She always talked about caring of all meri, but was only interested in the survival of her own kind, didn’t give a shit about anyone else. Leo was the last adult ayleid in the realm, and I was the only child of my “untimely deceased” ayleid parents. Isn’t it weird? – she glanced at him, puzzled, -  Guess she found it poetic.

Mark lowered them both onto the bed, still holding her in a hug, gently stroking her arm. Meridia again, huh, with a quest for an army of brain dead glowing vegetables.

- How did you escape?

- No clue, Mark, I swear. I was sitting in my chambers, talking to Mandil, then I blackout and later find myself swimming through a cave with a thing chasing me. Was scared shitless, but managed to get out, ended up at the western shore of Ilinalta, - she rose up above him, pointing at her silver eyes, - You know, I used to have blue eyes, but I guess she or… they tried to punish me for leaving, tried to make me blind. I thought I’m done for, but Jack found me, did some magic, restored my sight, - her voice sounded much more serene than a few minutes before, heartbeat no longer audible, - A few years later Bellani tried to bring me back, affecting me through dreams. Almost succeeded, too, but Jack intervened, pierced her through in one of the nightmares and sundered the connection to the Sanctuary. Hadn’t had them since.

- Shit, Rie, that’s….

- Now that’s the name I hadn’t heard in a while, - she laughed hopelessly, interrupting Mark before he would express his condolences, still towering above him. She looked sad, though the weak smile on her face tried to say something else, - Jack used to call me that, - the girl closed her eyes dreamy, as if she heard him call her again.

- What happened to him? You were so inseparable, - the elf inquired, pulling her back onto the bed.

- Yeah, were, but he grew distant, and I had to leave him, all that bubbly stuff, - she turned on her side, her head resting on Mark’s chest, - I loved him, otherwise I’d leave him sooner. It was hard to let go, but it was for the best. Him growing distant helped to sever the bond.

- Did he love you though? – Mark asked into the air, gently stroking her arm, eyes growing weary, fatigue steadily putting him to sleep.

- Don’t know. I think he was just attached, nothing more, we were never meant to be, - she laughed humorlessly, - He saved me though, and I’m grateful for it, would never make it to the adulthood without him. Would be lying if I said I don’t miss him sometimes too. He was my first real friend anyways, was foolish of me to fall for him, - Kanarielle paused, thinking about something for a moment, - But I have Scott now… Actually, - she rose up, looking at him as another thought crawled into her head, - Do you think there could be something between you and I if the circumstances were different?...

Mark gazed outside, genuinely thinking about her question for a good minute or two. He couldn’t tell if he liked her appearance or not, as it was the foremost to judge a potential partner, he never gave it much thought in this regard, and found himself unable to… check her out, no matter how hard he tried to do so. Then he tried thinking about the other girl he knew, tried to compare them – Braenn was one example, but something in his own head prevented him from doing so. He thought of Meltem – yes, that woman was the best of them all; he thought of Livaen’s Nilufer – the woman was quite alright in the looks department; but then he went back to Kana, then mother, then Visenya, and the block returned. As far as the personality went… he burst into laughter, giving the girl funny looks: they would be like an unconfined wild fire together in the middle of a field of a dead dry grass in winter, self-combusted from a rogue zombie-flame under the ground, with someone dumping the fuel to keep them roaring. He didn’t like her at first, she seemed to be too haughty; he guessed she didn’t like him at first either, must have been something about him as well. As the time went by, he figured her being too proud of herself was a defense mechanism, and as they grew closer he discovered a whole new side to her; it probably was the same with her opinion of him, otherwise they would never make it to good friends able to share some darkest, and dumbest, secrets.

- Honestly? – he looked at her, a single tear dancing in the corner of his eye, making the image blurry. She nodded, - Don’t think so. We’re too much alike, and that’s the recipe for a disaster, - the elf girl smirked, approvingly patting him on his chest.

- True, you were really annoying back in the days, - Mark raised his brow at that, looking playfully offended, - And the fake beard of yours?

- Ugh, - he groaned, smiling, - Remember yourself, you thought you are the all mighty ayleid, and it was in your destiny to make the world bow before you, you wanted to conquer the ruby throne, - the elf gestured wildly with his hands, making the girl pinch the skin on his sides and poke him somewhere under his rib.

- Oh, oh! Remember that huge eyeliner you had? Why did you paint it like that? Also, glad you dropped it, - she finger gunned at him.

- Meltem used to paint it, - he explained, - Helped with… identity at the time. She came up with the idea, really boosted my self-esteem. Can’t do it myself though, hands aren’t as steady, - Mark grunted, - Asked Aspen to help me put it on once Meltem left with Livaen, but he said I’m fine as I am and hid the pencil somewhere, still haven’t found it, - Kanarielle wheezed, giving thumbs up to the absent man for the idea; she was glad he made him ditch that horrendous face paint. They laughed for a little longer, remembering the vices and virtues of each other; it was a good distraction from the talk they had before, yet the thoughts in Mark’s head like cockroaches kept racing and bringing him back to the delicate subject, replacing the cheerful smile with a frown, - Shit, - he rubbed his eyes again, prompting Kana to yank his hand away from his face, - Shit, I didn’t know. You never told me the whole story.

- If that is of any comfort, I had no idea either, - she hugged him across his chest, - That is… until you brought me back yesterday. The Void is so different from what I remember, - Kana made a quiet laugh, - Catherine kept me from going out with you, had to tell this to me; couldn’t join you after the revelation, needed to process this through first, - it made him rise on his elbow, looking at the ayleid with eyes wide open. She knew Catherine? Or did she introduce herself while he was gone? - Don’t be so surprised now, - she rolled her eyes, pushing him back into the bed sheets, - I lived in a daedric realm for more than half of my life, don’t you think I know how to communicate with the entities? - Kanarielle giggled, adding in a low voice, - It must be awkward to have her watching over you all the time, especially during the..., - she hummed, - frisky moments, - red in the elf’s face started showing, making her add, - I missed the girly gossips.

- Oh my god, why, - Mark whined, hiding his face behind the palms of his hands, embarrassed, blood rushing to his head, turning him red, - Why you have to ruin everything.

- Well, that was intentionally awkward, - she grinned at him, pretty happy with her achievement, - Now let’s talk about you instead. How were you?

Mark groaned, still red as a pomegranate, but gladly changing the funny subject nevertheless.

- She prolly told you how I was as well, - he couldn’t help but reply in an annoyed and sarcastic tone, and she smacked him across his forehead for that, - Stop hitting me! – the elf grabbed her forearm before she’d descend another blow upon him, throwing daggers at her with his eyes, - I’d probably be dead as well, alright? Not brain dead like you or Cath, just dead-dead in my case, - he scratched the bridge of his nose, - Father told us, hadn’t I met Aspen, I’d be floating among the pillars with my throat slit open, no biggie, and you’d probably be the first one to find me, - he fell silent for a second, deciding to reroute the conversation one more time, - You have to teach me later how to interact with the whole place. But only basics, nothing in-depth – wanna leave the reigns in Cath’s hands.

- Sure thing, - she replied, readjusting herself on Mark’s chest, putting a hand under her head and enjoying the silence, - Don’t wanna turn into your daddy, do you? – it was Mark’s turn this time to smack her lightly on her back, - Ouch. That hurts, - the girl glanced at him, insulted. She wanted to make a comeback, but the elf already had his eyes closed, breathing quietly, chest calmly rising up and going down, exhaustion finally getting to him. She watched him for a second, musing whether to follow his lead and go to sleep, or to mess with him more, when a sudden thought emerged, - Mark? – she called him, drawing a dozy hum from him, - You ever thought about making it official?

- Official what? – it took a whole long moment for the elf to reply, mind already slipping away into slumber.

- You know… tying the knot, - she elaborated, gesturing vaguely, - getting the arrow to the knee, - Mark snorted, - Marriage, for fuck’s sake, you deep skull dingus, - the elf snickered, shoving the girl off him, turning his back on her, - Seriously, Mark. You need to.., - she couldn’t finish the sentence, as he bent around rather uncomfortably, putting his hand over her mouth.

- Sure, you’re gonna be my flower girl, - he unbent back into his place, tucking his hands under his head, sleep returning to him once more, - Now shut up, - she pinched the skin on his side yet again, mad at him for interrupting her, but the elf didn’t react, - Nah, you’re not getting the maid of honor, that’s gonna be Meltem.

________________________________________________________

- Where is he, you dipshit, - Kanarielle cornered a servant, holding him by his throat, green fumes shimmering in between her fingers, threatening the poor man with a slow and painful death. She’s been stalking him like a predator this whole evening, observing from a distance first to confirm her suspicions, them making a move, - Where is he?! – she repeated, her voice raw, uncharacteristic to her, as she slammed the servant into the wall. The man whined like an injured dog, - I saw him with you, you stupid cunt, what did you give him and where did you take him? – the man kept silence, anxiously shooting glances behind her as if someone were to save him from the enraged ayleid. She slapped him across his face, - Sunnabe, dead or alive, you’re telling me everything either way, - Kanarielle spat, piercing through the skin on the neck of the servant with the shards of ice condensed at the tips of her fingers, turning the them red as the blood leaked out of the wounds. She didn’t want to resort to puppeteering – it was hard, tiresome to hold the connection, she hated to control living beings like this, and most importantly at the moment – she was wearing an expensive evening dress; it was something Mandil taught her in secret from Bellaniel, figured she would need this knowledge should she be in a grave danger. It was different from the common known blood magic; hers was primordial and basic, relying on the blood flowing through the creatures of flesh. One way to use it was to draw blood of a target, allowing her to control it indefinitely; there could be multiple targets at once, up to a full army, with, possibly, no limitations, though she had no opportunity, or will, to test it. The other way was to manipulate a target though the power of her own blood, ideal for covert operations and perfect for remote control. Both had their drawbacks: first was messy, leaving wounds on the victims, having literal strings attached that get severed with a distance; the second required constant concentration, and she couldn’t hold it for a long period of time, draining her of her powers, - Now speak, - the flesh under her hand relaxed, and she removed herself from the body, - From the beginning, - she commanded the servant, smearing his warm blood in between her fingers.

… She made her way down a green cavern, voices becoming louder and louder. It was dank in here, moldy smells in the air; the cave floor was muddy, footprints barely visible in the wet dirt, occasional slide marks too – someone lost their footing and slipped on the slope. Luckily, she didn’t notice any signs of fight or struggle.

The servant, or rather his willing body, proved useful in tracking down the abductors. The people behind the kidnapping were some backwater nobles of the Reach, merchants by trade, criminals by fate, barely known to the world; the business became harder with the more frequent attacks of the foresworn and the vampires, and their town in the middle of nowhere quickly depopulated, turning into a shadow of its former self… Like it was blooming before, Kanarielle snorted. Apparently, they were helped by some families once or twice with soldiers, food and gold, but their inability at keeping it together turned away their former allies, leaving them alone. Fast forward few years later, and the family finally resorted to racketeering, trying their “best” to help their town to survive. They should’ve just left it altogether, there was nothing valuable in the area safe for a small field of crops and an iron mine.

Kana warned him, told him to be careful around the nobility, to trust no one and be on a high alert, but he did not listen. He was careless around people, bothered by something so much he had lowered his guard down; she tried her best to keep him out of harm’s way, but failed, letting him slip from her constant surveillance. Now where was he? Kidnapped, held captive as a tool to regain someone else’s power; he was here somewhere, hopefully not dead or sick. The Soranos didn’t know, not yet, neither did know Meltem about what happened – she kept her discovery secret, preferring to keep it quiet to keep the collateral damage as low as it could be possible. An easy job, infiltrate and rescue, she’s done this a hundred times already with Jack. So far she did good, only once having to knock out a brute at the entrance; entering a combat would be a death sentence for her alone without anyone to back her up.

The servant uncovered their ploy. The merchants turned criminals joined together with a group of highway robbers: the first were to find an unsuspecting target and to gain their trust – they still were nobles despite the shady dealings; the second were to wait outside for the first to render the target unconscious to abduct them to a secluded retreat far into the forests; the nobles then would be free of any suspicions, and later can present the wounded party with their help, saying they… found the culprits through their connections in exchange for a favor and some fame points. And Mark just made their entire bank and more, Kanarielle shook her head disapprovingly, they probably didn’t expect to make it with a hostage of his size.

She climber up a ledge, observing the roaming bandits below: she counted five of them, all minding their own business; they did not seem to notice an intruder yet. Behind – she passed three more, and she had no idea how many of them were ahead. “How much you think we gonna get for he arse?” – she heard one of them asking the other. Kanarielle slowly exhaled, not knowing she had her breath held this whole time, relieved with the question - it meant these bandits were still on the same page with the merchants back at the party. “We’re better off selling him to someone else”, - another voice chimed in, low and worried, “The kid’s a Sorano, his granny won’t leave us alive once we do the deal”. Right, the girl thought, the merchants told them there’s going to be a negotiation, but failed to mention them slaughtering all the bandits to keep them quiet and away from their own affairs. “We have our orders! The boy is to be sold to his family. Our patrons shall cover us”, - another one spoke, flailing around with a rusty mace of his. A dangerous stuff, Kana noted, as she noticed a sick yellow aura radiating from it, the glow floating on the surface of the metal. “You so sure?” – the man from before replied, sarcastic tone of his voice, definitely having experience in this matter, “Our dear “patrons” might as well rescue the kid themselves! You know how they operate, we mustn’t trust them. Gotta sell the boy to someone else, get our gold, save our lives as well while we can…”

Kanarielle didn’t listen to them any longer, dropping down from the ledge, trying not to slip on the wet floor, and proceeded further. She sneaked behind the rocks and furniture, snippets of their conversation getting to her ears, none registering though. Her mind was still at the thoughts expressed by the last guy – little idea he had about how close to the truth he was; their “patrons” were to rescue the elf in a few hours, slaughtering each and every single one of them on sight so they wouldn’t tell the truth to Esmir.

Another bend of the tunnel, and she saw cages and a guard, so carelessly standing with his back wide open to the entrance, watching after the precious prisoner. Without wasting anymore time, she sneaked up on him, delivering a sharp blow with a dagger right under his ribs. His blood rushed to the wound, turning her hand red; the man did not utter a word, but tried to fight her and the feeling, yet the control over his body slipped away eventually, and she took over it herself, his blood like strings attached to her fingers.

- Guard the entrance, - she commanded quietly, blood shimmering in the weak light of the torches, - Do not let anyone in, tell them whatever you must. Do not pick a fight, try to stall them as long as you can, - the man nodded, turning on his heels.

She looked around herself; the elf was lying in front of her behind the bars, seemingly unconscious, thick metal cuffs around his wrists digging into his skin, a tight metal collar around the neck. The keys to the cages were lying flat on the wooden table across the room, covered in a layer of rust, all of the same shape and size, so it probably didn’t matter which one she used to open the locks.

Kanarielle entered the cell, kneeling before him and inspecting the shackles – runes were all over them, glowing lightly with violet, radiating something that made it harder for her to breathe, fatigue getting to her, probably enchanted with silence, draining the prisoner of his magic; they were prepared well, even predicted the possibility of a magic-capable hostage. She tried to open the locks with the keys from the cells, but none worked the key to the binds was probably in someone else’s hands, and she had no time to go back and look for it. The other way to rescue the elf was to disintegrate the metal altogether: the ayleid put her hands around the collar first, watching it start to age, rust flakes falling slowly until there was nothing left, all crumbled to dust, the enchantment gone as well. A wave of power washed over her as the barrier containing the magic was gone, and Mark gasped for air, his consciousness returning to him.

- What the…? – he tried to ask, but his throat was dry like a desert, preventing him from speaking more.

- Don’t talk, - Kana told him, cupping the cuffs with her hands, disintegrating those as well, the metal turning to rust and to dust, - Gonna tell you later. Can you walk? Gotta get out of here, - she got back on her feet, handing him a small flask of water she had stashed in a pocked. The elf finished the entire container in no time.

The kid tried to stand, shaking violently, muscles sore, but standing nonetheless. He was no fighter at the moment, more of a burden, and she had to get him out of here to the safety of his grandmother.

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- Esmir was furious when I dragged your sorry ass to her, - the ayleid laughed lightly, applying a soothing balm to the irritation on the skin from the rusty metal cuffs on his wrists and his neck. There was some swelling here and there, bruises and scratches, but nothing that wouldn’t heal with the time, - Not gonna lie to you, it was scary, - Mark hissed quietly at the girl rubbing on his wounds. He was already sitting at the edge of the bed, ready to take off from the discomfort of the balm she was using, - Shit, sorry, but you gotta take it as it is, I’m no healer, - the elf silently nodded, turning his head to the side, - You know, your grandmother’s a terrifying woman. She was all fury for the first couple minutes, then calmed down, and next she was playing along with the guys who ‘napped you. Esmir, the helpless and innocent old lady, - she snickered. A crackling sound in the distance alerted her; she turned to look into the direction of the sound, but there was nothing. The Void was calm as well, so she paid no further attention to it, resuming the talk, - She sent Orlan after them, then went in herself. Dunno what happened there, but she was… ecstatic on their return, totally soaked in blood.

- Picked the wrong granny to mess with, - Mark laughed, coughing, still exhausted. It’s been a few days already, and he still hadn’t recovered from the incident, magic depleted. Esmir figured the shackles had some strong enchantment bound to them, and it would be for the best to let the kid rest in the Void, to let the place do its job; Kana brought him back here, staying at his side this whole time and tending to the bruises.

She added one last smear of the balm to the swelling on his neck and set the jar aside.

- Damn, you never told me she had a daedra for a lover. Disgusting. And what’s even more disgusting is that it said it’s your… I’m sorry, half-brother? – she had a mixed expression on her face, disgust with repulsion and confusion sprinkled on top.

Mark groaned.

- Don’t ask. Father’s side. Luckily they aren’t related. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if they were, she can do anything, - he brushed it off as if it was a no biggie. Really, it was a no big deal for the woman, she found interest in everyone and everything that moved and had some semblance of personality to them. Her main lover was her bodyguard and ex-general Orlan, whom she trusted with her life and everything she had. The other was the daedra, Walerian, and she praised him as a versatile worker bee, though Mark wished he didn’t know that; he was the usual resident of her beds, and she loved showing him off in the public. Another one was a woman she mentioned once, an old altmer mage, but he couldn’t remember her name, and an unknown dunmer with violet eyes. Esmir was a married woman though, not even a widow, yet that did not hold her back in her love affairs.

- That is gross. Anyways, - Kanarielle covered her face with the palms of her hands, trying to make her face relax after cringing so hard, - It? He then? said they had a fun time messing with them, - she paused, listening to the sudden footsteps sounds growing louder and louder, as if someone was getting closer, but the Void, Catherine, didn’t alert her to the intruder, so she tried to not mind it, - He went into the details, but I had to cut him short. Really disgusting, thank you very much, and I’d rather not hear about the guts hanging for the ceiling and eventual… you get the idea. Super gross. Apparently they had some fricky time in the pools of blood and right on top of the corpses, - she added quietly, gagging. Esmir did enjoy some blood and gore plays.

Someone walked into the room, their steps echoing against the stone.

- What happened here? – the silver-haired man inquired, looking at the elves on the bed, blood dripping from his hands and a huge serrated sword, leaving a red trail behind. He lowered the weapon with its jagged edges near the entrance, the blade making a clacking sound against the stone.

Mark shushed at Kanarielle, giving her the most intense looks she’s ever seen in her entire life. His face went from asking to threatening to murderous and to pleading, but she had none of it.

- No biggie, - she winked at the elf, - this dumbass got himself kidnapped, - the girl shrugged her shoulders as the dumbass in question hit her lightly into her thigh. Aspen cocked his eyebrow at them, - He oughtta know what kind of idiot you are, stop being pissy, - the elf rolled his eyes, giving the ayleid the middle finger, - I’m wounded! – she exclaimed, - Alright, cue taken, gonna leave you two, - Kana raised her hands into the air, getting up from the bed and leaving the room.

Aspen took off his blood soaked coat at the entrance, disposing of it rather untidily. There was a hint of worry in his otherwise blank face, and it took the elf by surprise when the man approached him.

- You hurt? – his voice uncharacteristically concerned, - Let me see, - he reached his hand out to the elf, trying to catch him by his arm, but the elf pulled away, almost jumping, violently shaking his head.

- You ain’t touching me with those, - he pointed at the coagulated, almost dried out blood on his fingers. Face nonchalant, Aspen grabbed a fistful of clean purple bed sheets and wiped the hands with them, reaching to the elf once again. Mark groaned, giving him his hand at last, - Who’s blood is that?

The man gently touched the swollen bruise, his fingers finding the wet sticky balm Kanarielle applied a few minutes ago; he stroked the entire scar lengthwise, occasionally drawing huffs and puffs from the elf: it’s been less than a week since the incident, but the area under the binds still hurt as if covered in tiny invisible cuts.

- Not mine, - Aspen answered with a low and tired voice, letting go of the hand and switching over to the bruise on the neck, - Should be gone in a week, - the man concluded, pulling the elf’s black haired head closer, giving a quick peck under the jaw and letting go.

Aspen looked drained, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent than ever, the elf noted, watching him from below remove messy articles of clothing; he looked like he’s about to crash, and his gear did not want to cooperate with the fatigue. Mark had to stand up; he stopped him with a gesture of his hand, grabbing the apparel himself and pulling down, discarding near the bed – he’ll tidy it up later. The man thanked him faintly, clumsily climbing on the bed, crashing into the sheets with eyes already closed; the elf sat at the edge, looking all over him for a moment: he seemed uninjured, just deadly tired.

- So, when are you returning? – Mark asked after a long pause, having nothing else to ask. Aspen tilted his head at the elf, one eye barely open, sighing in exhaustion before closing it again, - Fine, gonna leave you alone then.

- Stay, - he muttered, catching the elf by his forearm before he would get up. With the residue of strength he had left, Aspen pulled him onto the bed, a tad higher than himself, - I have to get some sleep, - he told him as if explaining an obvious concept to a toddler, throwing his arm around elf’s waist to keep him grounded. The man was tense, muscles stiff and rigid, - Need to get going in a few hours, - his words carried a concealed plea, and if Mark didn’t know him any better, it would go unnoticed.

He nodded, awkwardly climbing higher onto the bed, almost curling around the man, around his head and the torso; his white hair smelled of iron and gunpowder, a hint of ash too as he combed through it, the scent becoming stronger as he planted gentle kisses. Aspen softened into the feeling, brows relaxing, breath steady. Mark smiled gingerly, his hand going lower, caressing man’s temples softly, thumb brushing the high cheekbones; eventually, both drifted to sleep.

  ________________________________________________________

Mark was woken up by a scent of marigolds with faint notes of lemon balm, thyme and sage, all carried with an overwhelmingly sweet and sour aroma of sea buckthorn. He cringed; he loved the tree, it was absolutely unique in its looks of silver needle-like leaves and amber fruit, yet the berries’ taste was disgusting in his book, and it made him want to get away from it as far as he could.

Something touched his neck, warm and oily, thick liquid slowly going down his skin, rerouted by a touch somewhere else. He opened his eyes; instead of seeing Kanarielle with the tingling, itchy balm Esmir’s healer gave them, he found Aspen bent over him with a smelly jar in his hand, amber of color, applying the oil to the bruise on his neck.

- Miss Aquilla brought me the ingredients I asked her, - he noticed the elf wake up. Mark winced, the smell of the berries too strong to bear. The man smiled; he put the jar aside to pet the elf on the head with his clean hand, leaning closer to kiss him on the forehead, - The one you used before caused irritations, had to make something different, - his fingers dipped into the oil again, smearing another portion of it on the other side of the neck, gently rubbing it in until it stopped dripping.

- Thanks, - the elf mumbled, trying to get up; Aspen pulled him up, switching his attention to the bruises on the wrists, - Thought you needed to get going, - Mark said, watching the man rub in the oil into his skin; he’s bound to be smelling funny the whole day. The man nodded.

- I have some time left, - he switched onto the other wrist, - Need to tend to your bruises first, - the jar was finally closed, and Mark exhaled in relieve; surprisingly, the new mixture didn’t sting at all like the fat-based balm before did, and he’ll probably get used to the smell later on, - Mark, why can’t I leave you alone? – Aspen suddenly asked, grabbing him by his hands, taking the elf by surprise. He sounded like a disappointed teacher, - You have to be more careful, - the man explained, drawing a wheezing laugh from him, - I’m being serious, Mark, - he paused, - I don’t want to come back one day and find you missing a limb, - Mark laughed nervously, staring at the weary man; the intense look in his eyes said more than he needed to know, filling the elf with guilt the more he kept staring. He muttered an “I’m sorry” under his breath, shifting his gaze somewhere to his feet, fidgeting with fingers, “I’ll be more careful”, - I know you are worried as well, - Aspen pulled the elf in a hug, feeling him rest his chin on his shoulder, - I will be back soon.

- Yeah, - Mark sighed, hiding his face in the crook of man’s neck, - Haven’t heard anything from you for almost two weeks, and last night you appeared soaked in blood. Can’t mind my own safety when I don’t know if you’re okay or not.

- I’ll be back soon, promise, - he repeated, pulling away, - I have some unfinished business, it won’t take long, - Aspen kissed him on the forehead, getting up from the bed, - Have to get going now, - he told him, collecting his gear lying around on the floor haphazardly, the blood dried out and flaking already, leaving red spots throughout the clothing; Mark rose up after, helping him put the apparel on him.

- You are disgustingly sweet, - Kanarielle took both by surprise, silently entering the room, almost sneaking up on them, - Might as well start selling all that sugar of yours… Here, the last piece of your order, - she came up to them, handing Aspen a leather pouch filled with something, hard edges prominent under the hide. The man thanked her with a nod, palpating the purse and the contents inside; happy with the thing delivered, he kissed the elf goodbye and bowed to the ayleid, - Boy, aren’t you two looking like a couple of mushy puppies, - she commented, watching the man leave them alone and disappear into the portal.

- Kana, - Mark suddenly called her, weirdly excited. Her comment was ignored, - tell me, why can’t I make shortcuts through the Void?

- Shortcuts? – she was taken aback by his question, expecting anything but this. She furrowed her brows, looking for a better answer. Unlike the Void that one could access from anywhere, the Sanctuary had a single door inside and out, connected through a disguised portal to a series of flooded long caverns for a more difficult access inside a mountain range in Skyrim. To travel from within the realm, Bellaniel had built a secret chamber with hundreds of doors, all connecting to the outside world, and she was the only one who had the keys to get in and out, - Well, the Void is closer to a pocket realm: you exit where you enter, - the girl explained, gathering her thoughts together, - It’s like a hub; to exit elsewhere you need to have a door or two with an anchor in the world outside. Something like that.

- Can we make them? – he inquired cautiously, thinking about the prospect, - And are there any security risks?

The elf girl laughed.

- You are bothered by the security? Oh boy, Mark, you can make it so no one gets there, ever. This whole place belongs to you, you are the master key; you give and revoke invitations to the place, it’s as secure as nothing will ever be, - she hugged him by his shoulders, ruffling his hair, - I have no idea how to open or make doors, but… - Kanarielle listened to the breeze, - but I think Catherine is more than happy to help us.