#being selfish and trying to keep them safe at their own expense wasn’t good but it’s understandable!

[usertransducks]

sorry I just needed to add these tags because yeah!!!

I kinda love how, even when Donald’s wish was supposed to make the family a normal family that goes on normal adventures, they just…weren’t. Della’s still a traumatized amputee that got stuck on the moon for 10 years. Beakley’s still a spy, Scrooge is still the Richest Duck in the World, Webby is even more crazy and violent if anything, the triplets and Launchpad are literally just themselves in new outfits and with a touch of stir-crazy, and it’s clear from how they’re all talking that they at least go on their usual adventures off-screen(the bear picture comes to mind). Because Donald doesn’t want a normal family with normal problems, not really, not at the expense of them being themselves. He just wanted a break and it got out of hand and his stubbornness set in.

[indigosunsetao3]

A Reason To Try

Chapter 11 - Reckless Words

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Please read the tags on AO3 for any of your triggers

Alex Keller X Original FMC 6.7k words - AO3 Link

Relief flooded Madeline at the news it wasn’t her sister that was bit She knew it was selfish, but she couldn’t help the easing of the tightness in her chest. The news she had been dreading still hadn’t come and in her mind, Josephine was still okay. And if Josephine was okay so was Everett, they wouldn’t turn out a family member of a vital person with the CDC.

However, the pain on Alex’s face stamped out the brief comfort. The guilt of her own good fortune at Alex’s expense hurt her heart. Whatever Alex and Farah were to one another it was still love, romantic or platonic, it didn’t matter. She knew he loved her, he had confessed as much in their conversations, and from how he spoke about their relationship she knew Farah cared about him just as deeply.

“Alex, I’m,” Madeline started as she got closer and knelt down next to him. The wind was whipping and she shivered slightly but she reached a hand out to his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t imagine.”

Alex had seen Madeline’s face, the relief it wasn’t her heartbreak this time, despite how she tried to hide it from him. Deep down he knew she couldn’t help it, that she didn’t mean to feel solace that the bad news wasn’t for her, but it still riled him just the same.  What was a stranger’s death to her? Just another drop in the bucket of all the death she had seen in recent days. But for him, the world seemed to have ground to a halt, and he was weighed down by having to carry on without Farah.

He didn’t look at Madeline as she knelt down next to him, didn’t acknowledge her apology as she spoke. When her hand came out to grab his shoulder he tensed. He didn’t want to be touched, or comforted, especially not by her. He had been with Madeline seeking comfort, distraction, and pleasure while Farah had been fighting for her people, trying to keep them alive, something he should have done for her. Now she was somewhere in the city as one of those things, or dead. No, she would be dead. She would never let herself become a liability, so when she felt the end coming, she would have taken care of it herself. The thought of what she would have done to make sure she didn’t hurt anyone else sent another fresh wave of horror through him.

“Is…are they all?” Madeline didn’t know how to outwardly ask the question without sounding crass.

“No,” Alex answered sharply, pushing himself up from his sitting position. He couldn’t bear to stay there with her so close, touching him. He needed space, an outlet to scream, to destroy something.

“Farah got them all out. She brought up the rear to ensure everyone made it onto the trucks,” he explained, slamming the phone down on the HVAC system, causing it to rattle loudly. That should have been his place in the evacuation; it should have been him bit.

Madeline quickly withdrew her hand as he twisted out of her grasp. He wasn’t looking at her, his eyes averted as his jaw ticked. He was upset, understandably so, but the rejection stung all the same. She was certain he was revisiting everything they had shared, possibly regretting it all now that Farah, the one he truly loved and wanted to return home to, was gone. The guilt of what they shared was surely settling in quickly.

“How did it happen?” She asked quietly as she still remained on the ground watching him doing her best to lock away her own feelings.

“She was holding off a wave of those things while the children were being loaded. Only a few were left, but the gate was breached, and she was bitten while climbing into the truck. She ordered the team to leave her behind and get to the safe house she had set up.” Alex shut his eyes, running his hands painfully through his hair, fingers curling around his head as if trying to block out the images his mind was creating.

“Farah saved so many people Alex,” Madeline said in a bit of awe as she pushed up from her kneeling position to stand on the side of the HVAC. “Think of the difference she made for all those people, the people she was so passionate about keeping safe and alive. From what you told me about her, she did exactly what she wanted to do.”

When Alex cut his eyes over to her, however, she knew her words hadn’t helped in the slightest. She could see the anger in his glare, the vengeful soldier with no outlet for his emotions and pain.

“She suffered Madeline,” his tone was harsh. “She didn’t turn right away. More people arrived at the safehouse hours later saying Farah sent them. They said she was sick; it was probably nearing the end when they last saw her.” He pivoted away with a snarl, dropped his hands, and walked a few paces away. “That was three days ago…she was trying her hardest to help people as she slowly died and spent her final moments completely alone. While I was with you.” The last sentence was laced with guilt and perhaps accusation.

“I’m sorry,” Madeline said again though it didn’t feel like enough. But what else could she say? There were no words to help in a time like this, nothing that would bring comfort or fix anything. It was beyond that. She felt useless as she watched Alex pace, knowing he was beating himself up and trying to shoulder all the blame because that was easier than accepting that there was nothing he could have done.

“I should have been there. I should have done my one fucking job because she’s worth so much more than me. Than…this” Alex’s eyes swept over Madeline for a second, as if he were comparing her life to Farah’s.

“You can’t blame yourself for this. It’s been a disaster, something no one could have predicted. I’m not sorry you stayed, that you are alive.” Madeline tried, hoping to show him she saw him as more than just the dispensable soldier he saw himself as. She crossed the gap between them and gently reached for his arm again, wanting to get him to pause and think beyond his warring emotions.

“Stop,” Alex snapped, catching her wrist before she could touch him. “Please, just go back inside.”

“It’s not fair, it’s fucking awful, but you being alive is not a failure on your part. Your decision to help someone that needed it wasn’t a bad choice.” Madeline raised her voice a bit, not to yell but to portray the feeling behind her words because she saw the walls going up behind his eyes; he wasn’t listening to anything she had to say. When he grabbed her wrist, she didn’t flinch from it or pull back but instead gently rested her open palm on his chest in reassurance.

“Choices have consequences. And this one wasn’t worth the trade-off,” Alex answered, his voice low and lethal. As if it were a dark secret that he didn’t want to shout but instead let slip from him like deadly venom. At the last words, he pulled her hand away from his chest and pushed it away. He didn’t deserve any sort of sympathy, didn’t want it.

He may as well of slapped her. Madeline let her arm fall limply to her side as she looked at him a bit wide-eyed and shocked at what he had just said. He didn’t even flinch, didn’t show any recognition of the fact that he had just cut straight down to her soul. He believed he had made the wrong choice by helping her, and now he deeply regretted it. And then there were the unspoken implications beneath his words; the meaning behind his glares, the distance he kept putting between them, and the scrutinizing looks. He would have gladly traded her life for the commander he loved so deeply, she was the dispensable one.

“It wasn’t just me you helped. What about Everett?” She fumbled over his name, pausing to take a breath to keep herself together. “Was he not worth it? Just a waste of your time?” Madeline barely whispered as she searched his face for any sort of remorse, a realization. She found none.

Alex stared at Madeline, at the pain that flickered across her face and how she paled a bit. “That’s not-” he started to argue, taking a step toward her just for her to step back. That ignited his anger further, that she was acting fearful of him of all people. After what he had done for her, killed for her. “Everett wasn’t a waste.”

“So just me then?” Madeline asked, attempting to cover up the way her words choked out of her with a sarcastic laugh. “What was I to you this whole time? Just a placeholder, an easy fuck in the dark so you could pretend I was her.”

“You aren’t anything like her so there was no way for me to pretend,” Alex snapped. “You were a job, Madeline. You and Everett were work. An unintended obstacle in this fucking mess where nothing has gone to plan. And now Farah is dead. Your sister may be as too, less you forget about her.” His tone was no less soft even as he took in how Madeline fought to keep the emotion off her face as he continued to dig. He couldn’t help himself; it was as if the floodgates opened and he could finally unleash some of his pent-up frustrations and anger with the excuse of grief to hide behind. “And I was here with you because I let you distract me when I should have known better.”

Madeline didn’t reply immediately. She looked at him for a moment longer, blinking as if truly seeing him for the first time. There was a reason he was good at his job, why he was so valued by the government that he was forgiven for his transgressions with no consequences. She had been naïve to believe that he actually cared about her. He was a soldier, a government asset first, and she was just a job. A job, and distraction, that cost him the thing he actually cared about.

“Feel free to leave then,” she finally blurted out.

“It’s too late for that now,” Alex stated as he watched her. “I committed to the job. Farah’s already gone so nothing else for me to worry about at this point besides you.”

“The job is done, you got us to the CDC as you promised. It’s not your fault they deemed me not worth keeping around, just like you have,” she shifted and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling exposed and vulnerable standing in the middle of the roof. “There’s nothing else is tying you here now; no job, no other commitments.” Her tone was defeated, the spark of fight leaving her as he made her feel so unworthy of him and his help. “Go do the actual job Farah sent you to do. Help your team before someone else dies. Someone whose life is probably more valuable. Like my sister.”

She knew should have let his hurtful remarks go, let his barbs of comparison between her and Farah slide for the moment understanding it was his grief talking and not him. Then, when they both had time to breathe, talked to him about what he had said that hurt. But now, there wouldn’t be a later. He had torn into her with ease and ripped at the most vulnerable parts. The tears she had been fighting welled up in her eyes and she adverted her glance turning to leave.

“Goddamn it. Madeline!” Alex started as he saw the light in her eyes wink out, the bright flash of anger dulled to nothing as she curled in on herself. Just the sight of her giving up snapped him from the spiral he was on, making him realize just what he was doing. She wasn’t a subordinate that he could rip into and it would go in one ear and out the other without ramifications. Nor was she a fellow soldier who understood that words spoken in anger weren’t always true; they were just an outlet for some of the pent-up aggression and fear. “Just listen to me for a second, I didn’t mean-“

Alex followed Madeline, sidestepping around her to block her path. In his pain, he put up walls and lashed out at Madeline in an attempt to comfort himself instead of letting her try to help. He realized a moment too late that these past few days Madeline had been his only source of relief, his peace in this mess, and he for her. But he had ruined that in a matter of moments, tearing her apart out of some deep-seated need to try and offload his pain onto someone else.

He reached a silent hand out to her, a gesture of peace and vulnerability, but she only met his eyes with a look of pure sadness and hurt. She went around him without a word, dropping her eyes to the ground as she shuffled past. He didn’t try to stop her, he just turned to watch her go. Only when she was gone and he was left alone, staring at the sky, did he realize that he had succeeded in fulfilling his need for space and his urge to destroy something.

Madeline rushed down the fire escape, her hands grabbing at the railing to keep from slipping. Her vision blurred as she went, and she nearly fell through the window to get back inside. As she slammed the window shut against the cold, she heard Alex curse and the hollow thud of metal.

She understood grief made people react differently, that anger was usually the gut reaction at the unfairness death. But to be openly cruel, to deem her an unworthy trade-off for Farah, to reduce their connection to merely a job; felt like he had just eviscerated her. She knew that whatever was between them was fleeting, she wasn’t an idiot, but the regret and anger directed solely at her hurt. He had aimed to kill her spirit, and judging by the tightness in her chest, he had achieved it.

Alex didn’t go back inside for the rest of the day. He lingered on the roof studying the area around them, allowing his mind to slip into the solider to numb the pain. He had lost people his whole life, it was nothing new, so he let his training click into place to guard his heart instead. He’d deal with the emotions later, apologize to Madeline later if she’d listen. But for now, he couldn’t afford to unravel; he still had things to do. An obligation to keep Madeline safe even if she told him to leave, using his own words against him. A duty to get to Price and assist with the cure, honoring Farah’s last order to him. He wasn’t going to fail Farah again like he had failed her in every other way.

Madeline had burrowed into the bed as the sun began its descent behind the horizon, staring at the wall as her mind raced. She didn’t know what Alex would do now. Would he leave like she had told him to? Tired of the burden she had become to him, unwilling to face his own regrets any longer. It would be easy for him to walk away; he’d survive easier without having her around to keep safe.

Alex hadn’t mentioned before their fight if he had managed to contact Price and learn about her sister. Maybe he had; perhaps he was already planning his own next steps to get out and get to him. That would be fine Madeline supposed. One more person to aid Josephine, to keep her alive for Everett’s sake, and make sure she figured out the cure. Her sister was far more essential, more needed by the world. Madeline was just a roadblock to slow everyone down, she had completed her one task to get Everett safe. The reality that Alex had inadvertently clarified for her was terrifying yet oddly relieving. With no one else depending on her and nothing left to do, it no longer mattered what happened to her.

When the sun was about to disappear, Alex headed back down the fire escape. His joints were stiff and aching from sitting on the wall that lined the roof for the past few hours. It was cold enough to see his breath as he pulled open the bedroom window and he slipped inside quietly. He paused in his steps when he saw Madeline’s huddled form on the bed with her back to him. He watched her for a second, eyes looking for the slow rise and fall of her chest to indicate she was asleep. She wasn’t. He could tell by how tense she was she was very much awake listening to him standing there.

Madeline remained still in the bed as she heard Alex return downstairs, hugging a pillow tightly as he entered. He lingered in the fading light of the sun, and she felt his gaze on her back. She could imagine the resentment he must have felt, watching her lie there, alive, while Farah was not. She bit down on her lip to stifle tears, silently urging him to leave her alone.

Alex slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him before making his way down the hallway. He felt numb, like a ghost, as he moved. The feelings he had been staving off all day while working crept up on him now that he had nothing else to concentrate on. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he spread his arms out, gripping the cool edge for support. He stood still for a while, staring at a chip in the marble until the shadows grew so long that there was no light left. Only then did he allow himself to break down; to let the tears fall and his body shake from the utter devastation he was feeling where no one could see him. Where he couldn’t see himself.

His mind replayed his failures, all the words left unsaid, all the moments with Farah that would never come again. He mourned the loss of her laughter, the gentle grip of gratitude on his arm when they accomplished a goal, the command in her voice during missions, the soft smiles they shared in rare quiet moments and those few times she would give into her feelings and let Alex love her as deserved. Each memory felt like another cut, bleeding him dry with grief.

The deafening silence allowed everything to overwhelm Alex, and he eventually sank down to lean against the kitchen cabinets on the floor, unable to stand any longer. This was why Farah had never let anyone get close. She couldn’t risk love because it would be her downfall and, in a way, it had been. Her love for her people was what eventually killed her. War, fighting, terror; all those things could break you, kill you, instantly. But love was the silent, slow, killer that ruined you from the inside out. Love made you make foolish decisions and would be the ruin of everyone.

When he thought he couldn't shatter any further, the memory of Madeline's betrayed expression reminded him he wasn't finished. He had lashed out at her, letting her bear the brunt of his pain to dull his own hurt. But at what cost? She had pieced together his darkest thoughts, ones that weren’t truly his but had still conveyed one way or another. None of it was how he really felt. He didn’t want her dead, would never actually want to trade her life for Farah’s and he certainly didn’t view her as a placeholder. He had said all the wrong things in all the wrong ways. It was the shock and grief that had won in that heated moment between them on the roof. Knowing she thought that was how he actually felt about her ripped him even further apart and he had no idea how to undo the damage he had done.

Madeline could hear Alex from where she lay in bed, the sound only slightly muffled by distance and the shut door. It pained her to hear him suffering, to let him wreck himself alone, but she couldn’t bring herself to go to him. His words and actions on the roof had made it clear where she stood with him; which was nowhere. The empathetic side of her silently cried with him, and she nearly rose from the bed twice to comfort him as his pained gasps tore at her heart. She wanted to ease his burden, no matter how badly he had wounded her, but she knew another rejection or jab would completely shatter her. Self-preservation won out against her better nature, and she curled deeper into the bed listening until silence settled over the space again.

Alex was up and moving at first light.

He had slept on the couch that night, unable to face Madeline from the shame of what he had done. She hadn’t stirred when he quietly grabbed a hooded sweatshirt from the closet, and he didn’t linger to see if she wanted to talk. He had exhausted himself in the darkness agonizing over everything but when the sun crept back through the windows he packed it away. He didn’t know how to make things better through his words, he had royally fucked everything up using those, but he knew how to work and could try to convey his apology through action.

Madeline felt like she was on pins and needles as she lay in bed, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Alex was moving around in the living room and she savagely thought to herself that he was packing up, that he was going to walk out that door and leave her. Would he even think about her as he drove off? Would he care? She was so consumed with those thoughts that she hadn’t heard him drag the loveseat from the door and only realized he had walked out of the condo when the front door snapped shut.

She shot out of bed and ran out to the living room to see if he truly had left. She wasn’t going to lose all dignity and run out the door to beg him to come back but she did go to the window to peer out from behind the curtains. He had a duffle, her duffle, over his shoulder and it was empty by the looks of it as he walked around the side of the building opposite of where they had parked. She followed him, darting into the children’s room to look out that window to see him headed toward the construction area and wrench back the fence before walking in.

Alex had watched the surrounding area all day prior, there had been no movement. No one else seemed to be around the condominium and they were far enough back from the main road that cars didn’t come by either. He had mapped out the construction area as best as he could, taking mental notes of where things were that he wanted to check out and what to grab. His first stop was going to be the office trailer to see what type of radios they had and to check and see if the generators would run the electricity inside or if they had already hardwired it to the electric grid.

Breaking one of the windows on the door with the butt of his gun Alex reached inside and unlocked the door. He peered around one more time before slipping inside and flipping a light switch. It came on. One small victory he supposed as he slipped the duffle from his shoulder and set it in a chair and got to work. He snatched up anything he thought could be useful as he dug through drawers, pulled open cabinets, and even went through employee lockers. He had turned the CB radio on to shuffle channels, the white noise on every channel serving as his background music.

Madeline stared at the small light from the trailer for a bit waiting to see what he was up to. He didn’t emerge for a while and she grew impatient, bouncing her leg, as she waited. After what seemed like hours he stepped back out, the bag significantly fuller she noted as he cut off the light and shut the door. As if he knew she were watching his eyes instantly snapped up to the window she was in and she flitted away, dropping the curtain down. He hadn’t shared with her what he was doing so she wasn’t going to stare at him all day, he could do what he pleased even if it made her nervous.

Instead, she walked into the living room and looked at the piles that were still laid out on the floor. She snatched up the list he had made of everything and twisted the paper this way and that at the notes he had made. He had even inventoried Everett’s things with a small note of where he moved them to keep out of her eyesight but to not forget them when they left. It was difficult to reconcile this Alex with the one from yesterday and she sighed as she tossed the paper back down onto the floor. She needed to do something, anything, besides sitting and wallowing; she had done enough of that.

The kitchen was where she found herself. She dug out trash bags and started to go through the food, setting it all out on the counters and sorting through keep and toss. The fridge would be the last thing, everything in there rotten and already smelling. The ice from the machine had puddled and dried on the floor already and something else suspicious looking was leaking out the bottom of one of the doors.

Alex didn’t return until he had two bags worth of items slung on his back and toted a full gas can he had found. A light rain had begun when he called Price again, standing at the bottom of the stairs that led up to their condo. It rang for a while before dropping, storm clouds obscuring the already weak signal. He had been trying to call every three hours, letting it ring a specific number of times, before hanging up. Price wouldn’t know the line he was calling from, the phone was new, so he wanted to establish a pattern so maybe he’d try back.

When Alex climbed to the top of the stairs, he set the gas can down underneath a decorative bench and looked at the bags and bags of garbage sitting there. It smelled horrendous and he toed one of them with his boot to see it was food that had gone bad. He wasn’t a fan of the fact Madeline had gone outside without him but he reeled in his disapproval as he started lugging the bags back down the stairs. He didn’t want to draw any attention to the fact they were there, to humans or animals, so he took everything to the trash near the Tahoe. The rain was coming down in sheets by the time he finished and he shook his arms off at the front door before letting himself inside.

The moment Madeline heard Alex coming up the stairs she deserted the kitchen to go back to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She had checked on him from time to time throughout the day to make sure he hadn’t landed himself in any trouble, but that did not mean she wanted to face him. The work in the kitchen had taken hours, between organizing, clearing out the fridge, and trying to not vomit as she cleaned it all up. Everything in the fridge was spoiled, completely ruined, and rotting. The mysterious leaking liquid under the door had been a combination of thawed meat juice, ice cream, and other questionable things. That had nearly done her in as she scooped it all out and she had to take a long break to breathe.

The upside to clearing it all out though was she had found wine. Multiple bottles of wine between the fridge and pantry that were still good. She didn’t feel the need to ration those out as she had done with the food and had snagged a bottle for herself in her retreat. She also grabbed a single pack of peanut butter snack crackers for her dinner not bothering to sort anything out for Alex. He could figure it out on his own.

Alex looked around the kitchen as he drip dried on the tile noting the smell of cleaning chemicals. The counters were covered in different piles of food Madeline had set out. It was all non-perishable items fashioned by needing to be cooked to ready to eat, followed by piles of items close to expiration that would need to be eaten first. He mulled over a can of ravioli, which was originally in the ‘to be cooked’ pile, before settling on that for his dinner. He wasn’t above eating cold Chef Boyardee and he was starved.

Opening the can he grabbed a fork and headed to the living room to start skimming through the documents on his laptop that he had downloaded the day before. He had a little bit of light left and he wanted to spend it wisely. He set up by the window, angling the sat phone through a small open crack at the sky to try and grab the internet again. He sent off an email to anyone he could think of with just the GPS coordinates of where he and Madeline were, the new number he had, and that they had made it to the CDC but were turned away after leaving Everett. The email took over thirty minutes to send, the loading bar creeping desperately slowly as he ate. Once it finished, he shut down and made a mental note to go charge the laptop in the office the next day.

Madeline sat on the bed nursing her bottle of red wine as she flipped through a book. Alex was quiet in the living room but that was fine by her, he was back inside so she knew he was safe, so she allowed herself a decent buzz. Hardly eating anything that day allowed the fuzzy calm to settle over her faster than normal and she found herself staring at the bedroom door. She wanted to go talk to him, to see how he was feeling, ask what he had done that day. Anything to end this impenetrable silence that just wouldn’t go away. But she knew better, knew it was the wine talking and she wasn’t truly ready to speak to him. Judging by the fact night fell and he never once came in, he didn’t want to speak to her either.

The next six days were much of a the same. Both of them working on their own things, carefully avoiding one another in the process. It was odd to be sharing a space yet barely seeing the other, let alone not exchanging a single word. Madeline had no idea what Alex was planning with all the work he was doing. He left at first light and only returned before nightfall which was when she would retreat to the bedroom.

She thought she heard him stop by the room one evening though. Knocking so lightly Madeline wasn’t sure if her brain made it up or not. She stared at the door waiting to see if he would knock again but was only met with silence. His footsteps a moment later down the hall made her assume she had made it up in her mind, subconsciously desperate for some human connection. The urge, need, for a scrap of interaction was strong enough that she actually got up and intended to walk out and ask him what he was doing. But when she heard the shower cut on in the guest bathroom a moment later, she retreated back to her isolation. It was better this way she told herself as she curled into the bed feeling desperately lonely.

On day seven Alex awoke from his fitful rest, opting to take a twin bed in the kids’ room over the couch, to a loud clap of thunder. The sky outside was murky, overcast, as rain came down in droves turning the construction area into a mudpuddle and effectively killing all visibility. Winters in the south were typically rainy, too warm to snow most days, and with the warm air pushing up from the gulf it brought thunderstorms as it clashed with the cool. Many people assumed tornado season was during the summer but it was truly the end of winter and the start of spring when the warm air got a little too far north too quickly.

Madeline emerged from the bedroom as thunder rumbled. She went right to the kitchen to pull out any sort of container she could find that could catch the rain; the pipes had finally run dry on her shower the night before. They had plenty of water to drink, Alex had begun his raid of the neighbor’s condos and dragged in cases of water and other sports drinks. But if they wanted to clean up, use the bathroom, or anything along those lines they needed a different water supply. She was juggling a few pots and bowls when Alex walked in half dressed and stared at her. It was the first time they had actually looked at one another besides in passing since the roof.

“I’ll be out of your way in a second,” she muttered as she headed toward the bedroom to go out to the fire escape.

“You don’t have to keep hiding in the bedroom,” Alex answered as he walked toward her and she stiffened. “Mads,” he tried.

“Don’t,” Madeline answered firmly as he attempted to use her nickname. “You keep doing your thing, and I’ll do mine. It’s worked out pretty well this far,” she reasoned as she moved to slip past him. “It’ll make it easier when you finish your plans and head out.”

Truth be told she had woken up every day thinking that it would be the day he’d leave. She had begun to suspect he had been stockpiling and planning for his departure. Each night he returned the panic in her chest seemed to ease a bit only to ratchet back up the next morning as he headed out. On the third morning when she walked out for breakfast after he had left, she found a small box of items he had set out for her. Books, old magazines, a puzzle, and other items raided from neighboring condos. They were things to keep her occupied. She thought, perhaps, it was a peace offering and showing his intentions to not leave, but she didn’t accept it. She left the box there and ignored it over the next few days when more items appeared in it.

“I don’t want to keep doing this,” Alex stated as he stepped in her path, causing her to halt and look up at him. “We need to talk.”

“You said enough the other day,” Madeline replied coolly “I don’t need any clarification on that.”

“Yes, you do,” Alex retorted doing his best to not raise his voice. “But if you’re not ready to hear what I have to say about that, we need to talk about what comes next.”

He thought a few days would be enough, enough time for both of them to cool off and come back together to talk. Perhaps that had been a foolish hope, judging by her glare. Out of everything, he missed the company the most. Just someone to talk with during the long stretches of mundane work, the comfort of holding each other at night when the darkness pressed in. He was spending too much time alone with his ghosts, with Farah’s ghost, and at this point, Madeline was just another phantom in his life. He had hoped his quiet offerings would help bridge the gap a bit between them. But while she picked through the things he left for her, items moved around so he knew she looked, she hadn’t taken a single thing, confirming she wasn’t ready to be around him.

“What next steps? Have you heard from anyone?” Madeline asked quickly as she shifted the pots in her hands.

“Nothing yet,” Alex answered truthfully. “But we need to have a backup plan in case anything changes between now and then. This was originally just a temporary stop, it’s not the safest place out there, too many variables.” He gestured to the laptop sitting on the dining room table. “I found some information on those safe locations they talked about at the CDC. Not all of them are functioning from what I could gather, but one in Texas looks promising.”

Texas. That was so far away from where they were, from Everett. Madeline swallowed once before nodding.

“Fine. Let me set these out and we can discuss.”

“Do you want help? We can put a few on the roof,” Alex tried as he watched her juggle everything and he quickly caught a bowl that toppled off her arm. This was the longest conversation that they had in days and he found himself smiling at her as he held the plastic blue bowl on his finger.

“No, I can do it just fine. I’ll be out in a second,” Madeline answered as she looked at him and snatched the bowl back none too kindly. She wasn’t about to fall for his smiles and easy flirts, she did that once and he had lured her too easily.

When she got to the bedroom, she kicked the door shut behind her maybe a little louder than was needed. A reminder that he was not welcome in the space she had claimed solely for her, one they had briefly shared for a night before he shattered the illusion.

Alex sighed as the door shut. He stood staring at it for a moment, as he did every time she shut it, feeling her reinforce the barrier between them that he had accidentally created. He spent all his free time wondering what he could do, what he could say, to try and fix things between them. Every night, before he settled in for sleep, he hesitated outside the door, bringing his hand up to knock, telling himself that this time they would talk about it, only to back away again. Then, when he woke up in the middle of the darkness, feeling more isolated than he ever had in his life, he found himself sitting in the hallway, staring at the door. Silently willing her to come out, to need him again as desperately as he needed her. She never did, and eventually he would give up his vigil and head back to bed.

Texas seemed like their best option now. It would be a long and awkward drive, but it would be better than continuing to dance around each other here. Alex could get Madeline there, ensure she was safe, and then they could go their separate ways. He would have to find another place to go after dropping her off because he couldn't stay wherever she was without being with her. The condo was proof of that, the slow torture of being so close yet so far from each other.

While he waited for Madeline to return, he went to the living room and stared at the satellite phone, which showed no service. With each passing day of radio silence, he was losing hope of ever hearing back from anyone again. Without his team, Farah, and soon, Madeline, Alex realized he truly was alone. And it was by his own doing.

[seijorhi]

Fracture

i apologise in advance.

Miya Osamu x female reader

TW non-con, dub-con, psuedo-infidelity, referenced character death, angst, drunk reader, gaslighting, age gap, the slightest hint of nsfw

‘Yer still coming home for summer, right?’

How many weeks had your sister spent lovingly bullying you into coming down? How many hours had you spent listening to her gush over the phone about how excited she was?

And until about three months ago, you’d been excited too. 

Despite the ten or so years between the two of you, there was nobody on earth you loved more than your sister. When you were sixteen years old and your parents passed away in a car accident, she was the one who stepped up to take care of you, putting a roof over your head, making sure you ate, slept and kept up your grades, balancing two jobs to do it. 

And she grumbled and you fought, but she’s the only reason you managed to keep it all together enough to graduate high school, and when it came time for you to leave home for university, she was the one blinking back tears and loudly complaining about you ‘abandoning your poor older sister in her time of need’.

As if she hadn’t sat with you for hours, pouring over your options and gently nudging you in the direction of Tokyo. 

“It’s just a few hours away,” you’d told her. “I’ll come back and visit you all the time.”

There was truth to that. The first six months of uni, you came home every other weekend arms full of expensive textbooks and mountains of assignments to write, but then she met Osamu.

You’ve never seen anybody fall so hopelessly in love as quickly as she had. Miya Osamu may as well have hung the damn moon in the sky for how your sister looked at him. And you suppose you can’t really blame her; he was stupidly tall, broad shouldered and handsome. Even back then his restaurant was a wild success, the man was talented and clearly knew how to cook. Nice was the wrong word to describe him, but Miya Osamu was good, and so long as he made your sister happy, that was enough for you.

And it wasn’t like he was the one to drive you away. 

Osamu liked you – he let you camp out in his restaurant and work on your assignments when you desperately needed a change of scenery, stopping to humour you with conversation if it was quiet. He made you laugh, he was interesting, and the more your sister brought him around, the more you realised that you actually kinda liked the guy. 

Things were just easy between the two of you, you never had to pretend to be anything but what you were.

You were the one who started putting space between you and her. It wasn’t intentional, at least not on their part, but somewhere along the way you’d started to realise that Osamu wasn’t the odd one out anymore; you were. She was building a life with him, and fortnightly visits turned into monthly ones, and then eventually it became once every few months and after that only on holidays and special occasions – their wedding being one of them.

At Christmas, cheeks flushed with alcohol, she’d pulled you into a one armed hug, pouting into your sweater. “You never come visit us anymore,” she’d sniffled dramatically, “I miss you.”

But it was Osamu – fingers laced with your sister’s, a hint of a smile curling at his lips – who’d voiced it. “Come spend yer summer break with us.”

Three months later you’d awoken to a call telling you that there’d been an accident. Your sister was dead.

Weeks pass by in a blur. Your classes are a haze of droning voices and mindless typing, you submit papers you don’t remember writing and you get good marks anyway. Your friends don’t know how to act around you, everything feels surreal, like you’re moving around in a dream, nothing touches you anymore. It hurts, but you’ve wrapped up that pain and put it someplace safe, seeking it out only when you’re alone and you just can’t bear the numbness a second longer.

The trip you’d promised to take back home to Osaka is the furthest thing from your mind, at least until Osamu calls you in the early hours of the morning, a week or so before the semester ends.

“Yer still coming home for summer, right?”

The word ‘no’ lingers on the tip of your tongue. The last time you’d seen each other was at the funeral, his face blank and hollow, eyes rimmed in red. He’d barely spoken more than a few sentences to you, but he’d stayed by your side the entire time, calmly thanking those who came up to express their condolences. 

You’d lost your sister, but he’d lost his wife. 

“Do you still want me to?” you ask him quietly instead. If you were in his shoes, you’re not so sure that you would. 

Yet Osamu sighs heavily, and you catch a faint clinking sound on the other end of the line, like a bottle being set back against the marble countertop. “I just–” but he breaks off and something inside of your chest tugs. “I want ya here. The house is empty… she’s gone and I… I want ya here. Please.” 

How could you possibly say no after that? Maybe you’ve been selfish, so wrapped up in your own grief and misery. You’d assumed that because Osamu had Atsumu he’d be okay. Not right away, of course, but he’d have that support around him – a support system that you were without.

It didn’t enter your mind that perhaps he was struggling too. That he was spending night after night alone in a house etched with memories of her. And just as you’d thought that Tsumu was the one keeping his head above water, maybe he was offering a hand to do the same for you. 

—

He’s waiting for you on the porch when your taxi pulls up on the kerb. The driver’s nice enough to help you with your bags, but Osamu is quick to intercept, waving off the help with an impatient huff that almost makes you laugh.

“Yer here,” he says once he sets them down on the porch, grinning as he tugs you into a warm embrace.

It’s then that you get a good look at him, a proper look – and for a moment, you’re taken aback. You haven’t seen him since the funeral a few months back, granted, but Osamu doesn’t look the way you imagined him to – especially after your call the other night. There’s no hint of pallid skin, no bloodshot eyes with heavy bags underneath or a 5 o’clock shadow on his face. No, even with his dark hair still a mess, dressed in jeans and his Onigiri Miya tee, Osamu looks good. Healthy even, if the way the sleeves of his shirt cling to his biceps is any indication. 

It takes you a second to realise that you’re staring, because Samu chuckles, brushing past you to bring your stuff inside.

“Y’know, most people start with a hello,” he calls over his shoulder. 

Your cheeks heat, a hint of shame curling inside of you. Were you expecting him to be an inconsolable wreck? You know better than most that grief messes with people differently, and it’s not fair of you to judge him, however unintentionally, for not fitting that image of the grieving husband.

It’s a good sign. 

“Hi, Samu,” you reply somewhat sheepishly, following him inside.

He’s already walking towards your old bedroom, the ‘guest room’ now (though you and he both know it’s always been yours), leaving you to trail behind the older man. Your intention is to stop him from going to too much effort, but as you walk past the living room, something catches your eye.

Or rather, the absence of something. Faltering in your step, it takes you a second to realise what’s missing, but as you glance around, brows furrowing in confusion, it hits you. 

The pictures of you and your sister, the cute ones with her and Samu, the old family snaps that used to line the walls and sit on the TV unit, they’re gone. And it’s not just the pictures. The artwork your sister had painted that used to hang by the wall next to the kitchen, the little pot plants she’d doted on like children, hell, the throw that she’d knitted one winter that was always lying on the couch; they’re all gone.

The room feels almost alien without them, unfamiliar and cold. He’d hung up some cool photography stuff to fill in some of the spaces, but instead of homey it just felt… modern. Like the pictures you see in magazines of staged houses that nobody actually lives in. 

And you must have been standing there for a while, because you don’t notice it when Samu comes back to find you still holding your purse, gazing around like a lost child.

“I didn’t get rid of ‘em, if that’s what yer thinking.”

You turn to face him, except Osamu isn’t looking at you. He’s gazing at the walls around you both, his face strangely impassive – except for his eyes. It’s impossible for you to miss the hurt that swims there, the faint sheen they didn’t hold only moments ago. “I packed them away – they’re in yer room if ya want to look through any of it, it’s just…” he trails off, finally glancing back to look at you. And once again, you feel that flicker of guilt slowly eating away at you. “It was painful, seeing her face everywhere.”

Before you left your apartment that morning, you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t cry today – but the tears come unbidden, and one moment you’re standing there staring at him and the next you’re choking on a sob, hand coming to your lips to try and stifle it.

Osamu’s there in a second, solid arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. He doesn’t say a word (what’s there to say anymore?) he just hums softly, stroking your back with a gentle hand as you fall apart once more.

—

It’s surprisingly easy for the two of you to fall into a rhythm. There’d been some part of you that was hesitant about this whole thing – despite having a relatively good relationship with your brother in law, you knew that the only real connection between the two of you was your sister.

Without her, living in the same space and trying to navigate around the holes that she’d left, you’d expected it to be at least a little awkward between the two of you. But with Osamu working full time, it was kind of a non-issue. Aside from the first day when he’d taken the morning off to help you get settled, he was usually gone before you woke up, and most nights he wasn’t home until nine or ten. How he worked such long hours six days a week without collapsing out of sheer exhaustion was beyond you, but you tried to make things easier for him, cooking dinner for the two of you.

“Y’know ya don’t have to do this every night, right?” he asks you one night, sticking the leftover chicken into the microwave. “I have a restaurant, I can sort out my own dinner.”

You don’t tell him that despite being a rather terrible cook, it was one of the things your sister made sure to do every night in the weeks following your parents’ death. You’d spend most of your day holed up in your room if you weren’t at school, but dinner was the one time you’d sit and talk with her. It became a ritual; something sacred and special between the two of you.

You’re a better cook than she was by far, no comparison for Osamu, of course, but it’s the only way you really know how to help with… whatever this is. 

Instead, you just offer him a wry look from your position on the couch, “And yet, you never do.”

He scoffs at that, a hint of a smirk curling at his lips, “Why would I eat there when I know yer cookin’ for me?”

—

Of course, as easy as it is to slip into living with Osamu, you can’t escape what happened there forever. 

It doesn’t slip your notice the first night you spend there; the spare toothbrush in your bathroom, the decidedly masculine body wash in the shower, or how one of the shelves in the vanity was stocked with shaving cream and cologne and a few odd skin care products. You’d assumed that they were Atsumu’s, spares stashed away for the odd nights he crashed here. There’s another bathroom off the master bedroom, so you know it can’t be Samu’s stuff.

Except you find yourself proven wrong one night, when fresh from your shower and clad only in a fluffy white towel, you open the door to find a shirtless Osamu filling the space, one arm propped up on the doorframe. 

“Anyone ever tell ya yer a bit of a bathroom hog?” he asks, smirking down at you.

And you’re so taken aback, utterly confused as to why he’s standing there half dressed, why it matters how long you take in the bathroom – never mind that the only thing covering you from complete nakedness is your towel – that you can only stand there, gaping like a fish as he laughs, takes you by the shoulders and physically shifts you out of the way as he slides on past.

It takes you until the following morning – Osamu’s sole day off – to ask him about it, clutching nervously at your cup of coffee while he busies himself making breakfast for the two of you. 

“Samu, um, about last night…” you timidly begin. 

He glances up at you from the stove, a single eyebrow raised. “What about it?”

Your cheeks are already burning, eyes darting between his face and the mug in your hands as you struggle to find the right words to bring it up without making things weird. “Well, I-I was just wondering… um, why you were using my bathroom?”

You’re not sure what kind of reaction that you’re expecting, but the dark look that flashes across his face isn’t it. For a split second, your insides clench, terrified that you’ve said the wrong thing–

But as quickly as it appeared, Osamu’s expression smooths over. He exhales heavily, setting down the spoon in his hand as he turns to face you properly, and when your eyes flicker up once more, you realise with a start that it’s pity that’s taken its place. 

And a second too late, the pieces inside your head fall into place.

“Oh.”

Osamu nods only once. “I can’t go in without seeing her lyin’ there… I thought ya knew.”

And it’s like all the air’s been sucked out of the room. She’d died in their bathroom – slipped on the wet tiles and cracked her head open on the edge of their bath, and Samu had been the one to find her. 

Weakly your eyes flutter shut, bitter nausea churning in your gut. How could he stay here, sleep in the next room when–

“Hey, hey, calm down, I gotcha,” Samu’s voice is at your ear, and your head’s spinning, pounding, and you can’t breathe. The mug in your hand tumbles to the floor, your coffee spilling across the wooden floorboards as weak fingers clutch at empty air, and then those arms are around you once more and Osamu’s trying to soothe you.

Breakfast is forgotten as he tugs you towards the couch to sit. And as he holds you, speaks to you in that calm, unwavering voice you try to focus on the scent of him (masculine and earthy, a hint of spice and cedar), the fabric of his shirt under your cheek and the gentle, almost lazy circles he rubs into your side and not the mental image of your sister, lying broken and bleeding on the bathroom floor.

—

It doesn’t take much effort to find the stash of your sister’s things that Samu set aside in your room. You lose hours flicking through pictures of her, smiling through your tears as they dredge up old, happy memories of the two of you.

Even the ones of her and Samu, his arms looped around her waist, resting his chin on the top of her head; she’s always wearing that bright grin that makes your heart ache.

There are a few of the three of you – one from the last time they’d come to visit you in Tokyo and you’d dragged them off to Disneyland. You’re standing between the two of them, beaming at the camera while Samu’s arm hangs off your shoulder and your sister, grinning widely and wearing the minnie mouse ears she’d bought at the first opportunity, tosses up a peace sign. 

Softly wiping away your tears, you set it aside. You’ll have to ask Samu if you can take that one home with you.

—

“What’re ya doin’ tomorrow?”

It’s late, and the two of you are sprawled out on the couch, watching TV with a bowl of snacks between you like the old days when he asks.

“Not much,” you reply. “I was going to go to the markets at some point in the morning and maybe head to the beach after that, why?”

Grey-ish brown eyes flicker across to you, “A few of my old teammates are in town, we’re meetin’ up for some drinks. I want ya to come with me.”

“Oh,” the word slips out before you can stop yourself. “Um, yeah… if you want?”

It ends up sounding more like a question, a fact that doesn’t slip past Osamu if the amused little snort he gives in response is any indication. And it’s not that you don’t want to give up your plans in favour of going with him; you get along pretty well with Atsumu and you’ve met most of his old teammates at least once or twice, it’s just that you’re a little confused as to why he’d want you there to begin with.

They’re all at least twelve years older than you, and while it occurs to you that maybe he’s just inviting you along to be polite (not that that’s ever been his style before) the last thing you want is to be stuck feeling like an afterthought, all but ignored as he and his friends catch up.

“I said I wanted ya there, didn’t I?” He doesn’t wait for a response, “‘sides, Tsumu already asked if you were comin’.”

Which is how you find yourself dressed up for the first time in months, fingers smoothing out the hem of your dress as Samu tosses you a lazy grin from the driver’s seat. “Relax, wouldja? They ain’t gonna bite.”

You know that. They’re good guys, but no matter how much rationalising you try to do, you can’t seem to quell the anxiety eating you up, and the frustrating thing is that you don’t know why you’re feeling it.

He’d neglected to tell you that they weren’t meeting at some bar or restaurant, but at Atsumu’s condo in the city (‘Showy fuckin’ bastard’ Samu’d huffed as he’d pulled up in front of the building), but you suppose it really doesn’t make much of a difference.

“Ya look good,” he compliments, eyeing you for a moment while the two of you wait for the elevator. 

Cheeks warming, you drop your gaze and stutter out a quiet thank you. Apparently unsatisfied, he leans closer, reaching one large hand up to gently ruffle your hair – grinning in satisfaction when you shriek and try to pry it away. “Relax,” he whispers again, the warmth of his breath tickling the bare skin of your neck. “Yer too wound up.”

Distracted by the arrival of the elevator, you fail to notice that instead of returning back to his side, his hand drops to your shoulder.

And it should be easier to do just that once you have a drink in hand. Atsumu greets you with a one armed hug, the only hint of anything out of the ordinary being the way his gaze lingers a beat too long as he studies your face, his eyes sharp and missing nothing. But whatever he sees (or doesn’t see) his expression softens into a smile, “Glad ya came.”

But even as you’re greeted by the others, falling into an easy conversation with Kita and Aran you can’t seem to shift the uneasiness in your stomach. There’s something in the air, a tension nobody really wants to admit to.

And you can’t quite tell if the others are surprised that Samu brought you at all, or if it’s just because you’re a living reminder of a tragedy that’s still fresh and raw, and everyone’s trying to pretend that it’s not. You don’t blame them for it, of course, they only mean the best. But you can see it in the way Suna side eyes you every now and then, how skilfully Akagi skirts anything that could touch a nerve when he comes up to chat.

It’s like they’re all walking on eggshells – though whether it’s for your benefit or Osamu’s, you’re not entirely sure. For his part, Samu sticks close, keeping your drink topped up, an arm slung over your shoulders as the afternoon wears into the evening. 

Yet despite that, the alcohol you’re drinking far too quickly starts to work its magic, filling your body with a warm, pleasant little buzz, and you actually start to enjoy yourself. You laugh easier, giggling when the twins start to bicker, gasping in wicked delight when Suna offers to show you certain embarrassing photos of both of them on his phone (he has quite the collection), even letting Gin and Tsumu drag you into taking shots with them.

And all the while, Samu watches you, a soft smirk playing at his lips.

—

By the time he unlocks the front door and you stumble back inside, you’re absolutely plastered, giggling at nothing and tripping over your own feet.

As always, Samu’s there to catch you, strong, muscular arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Careful there, princess,” he laughs.

You grin up at him, carefree and heartbreakingly beautiful. For the first time in months you feel light, you feel amazing and you don’t want this to end. Kicking your heels off, you skip inside, leading him by the hand. “Samu,” you call back over your shoulder. “I wanna dance.”

“Nobody’s stopping ya.”

“But there’s no music,” you pout, and once again he chuckles, letting you go to settle back into the leather couch as he pulls out his phone. A moment later a familiar, lively melody floods the living room, and you let yourself become lost to it. It doesn’t matter that you’re drunk and dancing alone, Samu’s dark eyes following your every move, you’ve never felt so free.

Arms raised in the air, hips swaying hypnotically to the beat, you lose track of time. It could’ve been minutes or seconds or a whole hour, but suddenly you’re not alone anymore – Samu’s there with you. His cologne invades your senses, why does he always smell so good? His body’s warm, almost hot as he slots himself behind you, caging you against him. 

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, his voice sending shivers running down your spine. “Yer a little tease, ya know that?”

And there’s something wrong with that, you know there is, but you can’t seem to think of what it is – not when the weight of his hold’s impeding your movement. A pout adorns your face, a soft, almost petulant whine escaping your lips as you try in vain to untangle yourself, “Samu, lemme go. I wanna dance.”

He huffs out a laugh, but that doesn’t sound right either. “Don’t wanna dance with you, pretty girl.”

There’s something hard pressing against your lower back, and his hot breath ghosts over your neck a moment before lips descend to suck on the sensitive flesh.

In a split second, all that blissful, warm, drunken happiness evaporates. Samu groans lowly, his chest rumbling at your back, but there’s a pit of something cold and urgent that’s seeping through your veins, distant, foggy alarm bells tolling inside of your head and you don’t understand what’s happening, but you know that you don’t like it.

You want it to stop.

“S-Samu,” you whine, shifting uncomfortably against his hold. 

This time he listens, drawing back just enough that he can turn you around to face him. And those familiar eyes are hooded and dark, burning with an intensity that makes you want to recoil even as he stares down at you, taking your cheek in hand.

You don’t even realise that you’re crying until his thumb’s brushing away your tears. There’s nothing comforting or pleasant (nothing of the Samu you know) on his face as he studies your fearful expression, but eventually he lets out a heavy sigh.

“She was positive I was cheatin’ on her,” he admits. “Did she ever tell ya that?” He pauses for a beat waiting for a reply, but when it’s clear that you don’t have one for him, he just scoffs, “No, ‘course not. That’d be admitting that not everything about our life was picture perfect, and heaven fuckin’ forbid we do that. Y’know, that's why she wanted ya back here so bad. She needed a buffer.”

Bitterness clings to every word like poison and you flinch, renewing your struggles to get away. Not that he lets you – the moment you start to squirm the arm around your waist tugs you closer, anchoring you against him. The tears come faster, followed by soft, hiccuping sobs, but Samu seems beyond caring at that point.

“Stupid bitch never could see what was right in front of her face. That’s what we were fightin’ about that night; she said she was gonna leave me.”

Your heart clenches, fear pooling in your gut, but Samu just smiles at you, a mockery of sweet tenderness, reaching back to tuck a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. “But you know I’d never hurt my pretty girl, don’t ya, baby?” he asks. “Just want a taste tonight.”

You don’t even have time to suck in a breath before he’s kissing you, cradling the back of your head as his mouth moves hungrily against yours.

And all you can taste is the whiskey on his tongue.

—

You can’t tear your eyes away from your reflection in the mirror, the faint, reddish blemish colouring your neck.

A hickey.

Tentatively, as if trying to prove that it’s real and not a figment of your imagination, you prod at the mark, only to wince at the tenderness. Definitely real.

You’d woken up to an empty house – unsurprising considering it was well past ten and you knew Osamu had work today – with your head pounding and your mouth uncomfortably dry. Wracking your brain, you can’t seem to conjure up a rational explanation for the bruise. Granted, you can’t really remember much of last night, only fragments of being at Atsumu’s place, and certainly nothing after you’d started taking those shots.

Which doesn’t make the uneasiness sitting heavy in your stomach any easier to take, because you know that you hadn’t been cosying up to anybody before you’d lost track of the night, and if it had happened after, then surely Samu or one of the others would have stepped in and put a stop to it.

And that should’ve been more of a comforting thought than it was, because if it didn’t happen at Atsumu’s then that meant it happened afterwards, when you were here with Samu.

Your heart thumps unevenly against your ribs.

Osamu. Your dead sister’s husband, your brother in law. 

A hickey on your neck isn’t just a kiss. It’s not a simple, drunken peck against your lips, it meant that somebody had sucked on the skin, bitten at it, kissed until blood vessels broke – it’s not the kind of thing that happens accidentally. 

A wave of nausea threatens to overtake you, and you barely manage to make it to the bathroom before you’re violently emptying the contents of your stomach into the porcelain bowl. And you know as you collapse onto the cool tiled floor, shaking just a little, that this time at least, the alcohol isn’t to blame.

You know Samu; you trust him implicitly. Whatever happened, it must have been a mistake or something. You’d both been drinking, and he’s still grieving and–

There’s no point jumping to conclusions or working yourself up any more than you already have. You’ll just bring it up with him when he gets home, you decide. 

Yet anxiety and guilt gnaw at you as the hours crawl by, you’re half tempted to pick up your phone and just call him to ask point blank. The clock feels like it’s mocking you every time you glance up, and while you try your best to distract yourself with household chores and then busying yourself with dinner, none of it works for long.

By the time he does stride through the door, a little before ten, you’re an anxious wreck, all but wringing your fingers as you sit rigid and tense at the table. Most nights you eat before he gets home, hunger getting the better of you, but tonight you don’t seem to have much of an appetite. 

“Smells good,” he comments with an easy grin, toeing off his shoes and dropping his wallet and keys by the door.

You open your mouth, but the words seem to get stuck in your throat as he drops a kiss down on the top of your head and walks on past to grab a bowl from the kitchen.

“I’m starving.”

Instead, you just swallow nervously as he pulls out the seat next to you and sits, not wasting another second before digging in. Your eyes quickly dart over to study him, but you don’t see any hint of guilt or unease on his face. He just looks like the same old Samu, a little tired maybe, but otherwise totally normal, and so you force yourself to pick up your spoon and follow suit. 

And he’s never been one to fill silences with meaningless chatter, but tonight the quiet between the two of you feels oppressive, every clink of metal against ceramic echoing too loudly, every chew, every swallow setting you on edge. You can’t even taste the food, your stomach too twisted in knots for you to feel anything but nauseous after a few bites. 

“… Is everything okay?” he asks after a few minutes, and it’s so sudden amongst the tense silence that you visibly jerk, almost dropping the spoon you’d been toying with. 

You glance up to find him staring, brows furrowed in concern, and once again your stomach flips. It’s now or never.

“Um… did anything happen last night?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Osamu’s frown deepens fractionally, and he tilts his head as your fingers twist in your lap, “What d’ya mean?”

Did we kiss? The words dangle on the tip of your tongue, but as you nervously meet his eyes, you find nothing but confusion and concern there. And for a moment, you almost speak them, but then Samu’s reaching across the table to take your hand in his, and as his warm palm swallows up yours, you lose your nerve.

“You sure yer okay?”

Whatever happened, he doesn’t remember it and neither do you. 

Smiling tightly, you nod. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Nevermind.”

There’s no reason for you to drag him through the mud for this, you’re already feeling enough guilt and shame for the both of you.

—

You try to put it out of your mind, but it’s not that easy.

Lying awake in bed at night, your brain unwittingly turns over possibilities of what else could’ve caused the mark if not Osamu. Guilt gnaws at you every second that you’re around him and all the while he’s painfully oblivious to it all.

He’s always been affectionate with you, but all those stray, unthinking touches now carry a different weight with them. You find yourself ducking away from them more often than not, pretending that you don’t see the almost wounded look in those greyish-brown eyes when you do. You start to avoid him, finding other places to be whenever he’s home.

And you hate yourself for it, because Osamu’s been nothing but faithful to your sister for as long as you’ve known him. You’re the one acting like there’s something wrong between the two of you, like he’s treating you any differently than he always has when you know that’s not the case.

You know that, but when you catch sight of the fading bruise in the mirror, your stomach twists into knots all the same. 

There are excuses and justifications aplenty, but none of them make you feel any better. You still find yourself sniffling into your pillow, swallowed up by your guilt when you imagine how devastated your sister would be if she knew.

You’d let her husband kiss you. Being drunk and miserable and grieving didn’t change that. Whether he knew it was you or mistook you for her; it doesn’t matter. Maybe it was a mistake, letting him talk you into coming.

Things were still too raw, too fresh. You’d thought that coming here would help, but so far it’s only made everything worse, and unintentionally or not, you can’t kid yourself that your presence is doing anything to help Osamu anymore.

You need to go back to Tokyo.

Somewhat selfishly, you’re tempted to put it off until the weekend, because you know that Onigiri Miya has a stall for the beginning of the summer festival and he’ll be too preoccupied with that to think about anything else – but you just can’t bring yourself to do that to him. 

No, it’s better to rip it off like a bandaid; nice and quick. 

You’d planned on breaking the news over dinner, but as you pick your way through your noodles, you notice that Samu’s quieter than he usually is. Every time you risk a glance up he’s staring at the table, looking entirely lost in thought, and it just doesn’t feel like the right time to bring it up.

Tomorrow, you decide, you’ll cook his favourite for dinner and tell him then.

—

The knocking startles you from your sleep with a jolt. It’s quiet, hesitant almost, but you’ve always been a light sleeper.

“Samu?” you croak out, fumbling blindly for the phone at your bedside to see what time it is. 

The door opens, a crack of light from the hallway spilling into your room as Osamu looks in. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “I know it’s late, but I need to talk to ya ‘bout somethin’.”

He’s shirtless, clad only in a pair of cotton pyjama pants, but he doesn’t look to be in any immediate kind of trouble. Still, he wouldn’t have disturbed you in the middle of the night if it wasn’t something important, so you blearily wipe the sleep from your eyes and force yourself to sit up as he slips into your room and shuts the door behind him.

“What’s wrong?”

He hasn’t bothered to turn on the light, and even with the moonlight streaming in through your window, his face is cast in shadow as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed. And it’s silly, especially considering he’s the one who’s shirtless right now but it’s hard not to flush at the realisation that you’re only wearing a thin, satiny slip. You feel almost naked – he’s seen you in bikinis before, but it feels different here, when he’s the one in your bedroom.

“You asked me the other day about what happened the night we went to Tsumu’s,” he begins, his voice quiet and soft in the early hours of the morning, and suddenly your state of dress is the last thing on your mind. 

Swallowing tightly, your pulse quickens and you still, waiting for him to continue.

And you feel, rather than see, the way he stares at you, inching a fraction closer when you don’t immediately answer. “And I lied. Or I didn’t exactly tell ya the full truth.”

“Which is?” you force out.

Samu’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep, slow breath in and exhales heavily. “You were drunk and ya came onto me, tried to kiss me.” You flinch, a choked sound escaping your throat at the blunt admission, but he’s quick to reach for you, his hand coming to rest on your knee, squeezing it reassuringly. “And in the heat of the moment, I let ya.”

Hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but the moment you try to turn away from him, biting your lip and trying to blink back the tears, he stops you. 

“Osamu–”

“‘Cause I’ve spent years waiting to kiss those lips, an’ I’m tired of pretending we both don’t want this.”

And he’s kissing you; soft and sweet and gentle, his lips molding to yours as he cups the back of your neck. You wonder if he can feel your pulse racing under his fingertips as he draws himself closer, groaning into your mouth.

It doesn’t matter that your hands are on his bare chest, pushing at him, hitting him – those muscles aren’t just for show; he’s immovable. The more you squirm, trying to extricate yourself so that you can plead with him to stop–

This is a mistake. A horrible, awful misunderstanding. He’s upset and grieving and not thinking clearly and you have to stop this.

He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

– the more his grip tightens until it starts to hurt and you’re whimpering into the kiss. Your tears are wetting his cheeks, but he doesn’t care, won’t stop and there’s a panic that rises within you every second that you’re entangled with him.

“Don’t do this,” he mutters, breaking the kiss as a sob rips its way free from your throat, “Don’t pretend ya don’t want this, baby. I know ya do. Stop being a little fuckin’ tease.”

He leans back in, intent on capturing your lips again, and in an act of desperation you reach for his face, cradling his cheek in your hand. “Samu, please,” you beg, wide, imploring eyes searching his face for any hint of a reprieve. “You’re scaring me. Stop, please, j-just for a second.”

Just a second, that’s all you need to try and snap him out of whatever the hell this is. One second. 

Osamu stills, his face mere inches from your own, his body hovering atop yours. His breath, ragged and uneven, ghosts over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake, but you don’t dare move as he leans into the touch, grey eyes fluttering shut.

He sighs, the sound almost like a shiver. “Ya don’t need to be scared, ‘m gonna take good care of my girl.”

He doesn’t give you the chance to say anything else, not as he forces himself onto you once more. You used to marvel a little at Osamu. Tall, handsome and strong, even in his mid thirties; Samu was fit. Now, straddling your waist, pinning your wrists to the wall with one hand, the other palming at your tits, he dwarfs you entirely. He isn’t impatient, not as he kisses you languidly, not as he slides the soft, satin up your thigh, revealing your underwear.

Your hiccuping sniffles aren’t enough to move him, you’re not strong enough to physically fight him off. He doesn’t pay the tearful, breathless pleas sobbed out between kisses any mind. 

Osamu grabs you by the waist and flips you onto your front, lips brushing at the nape of your neck as he smooths your hair back, and you’re utterly helpless to stop him. 

And as his hand runs down your side and he coaxes your hips up into the air, you almost wish that he was rough. Because this pretense of gentleness, glinting steel masquerading as silk – it’s too intimate, and you feel complicit.

Like you’re willing.

Like you want this with him.

An act of love as he tugs your panties down to your knees and hums in quiet satisfaction at the sight of your bare cunt, glistening just for him.

There’s a voice in your head telling you you should be screaming and kicking and snarling like a wild, feral thing, but Osamu’s grabbing at your ass, spreading it to get a better look, his thumb gliding along your slit and all you can think about is the picture he’d packed away, the one of the three of you at Disneyland. 

Samu’s arm slung over your shoulder, and your sister’s bright smile.

He spits; a warm, fat glob of saliva hitting your pussy, and as it slowly dribbles down the only sound that leaves your lips is a soft, broken whine. You don’t fight him when he takes his cock in hand and guides the flushed head, pre-cum already oozing at the tip, along your cunt, you just lie there, a toy for him to move and manipulate however he wants.

“You’ll forgive me for this, I know ya will,” he murmurs, softly squeezing your hip just once as something thick and blunt presses at your entrance. 

But it doesn’t matter, not as his cock sheaths itself inside of you with one hard, brutal thrust, because you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself.

[juminsmysticmc]

Hii☺️So, we have RFA+Minor trio being single fathers after Mc's death, what about reversing it?So that Mc is a single mother after they died(

I waited really long to finally make a request and I am very excited right now, especially since it's you.I really love your writings and I read all of them for like a dozen of times and I can't get enough of them😍Thank you so much for your work and stay healthy 🙏🏻

Mc being a single mom after the RFA + Minor Trio died    ( Trigger Warnings! ) 

Trigger Warnings, mention of death, parental death

RFA + Minor Trio as single fathers after Mc’s death (Parental death/ Trigger Warnings)

Did I mention that I like drama? Enjoy! 

Jumin

You pressed your lips together as tears went down your cheek. The baby you just gave birth to was sleeping in Jaehee‘s arms as you sobbed into Zen‘s embrace.

,,It‘s as if he planned everything,“ you sobbed, making your red haired friend shake with his head.

,,When he found out you were pregnant, he made me do all this. He didn’t plan to die a month after the birth of your baby, really, he just feared that if something happened to him, his father would have acted the way he did,“ Seven explained.

The reason why you were currently staying over at Jaehee‘s place was that Jumin died a week ago. One day you let him go out of the front door, still smiling as he kissed your newborn, and not even half an hour later, you found yourself in the hospital.

Someone shot him.

And as if it wasn’t enough, your father in law tried to take away your baby, saying that he had to give his grandchild a better life.

But Jumin, even in heaven, saved you once again, saving a lot of money and having an external saving method thanks to Seven.

He even left behind a letter to his father filled with lies, explaining that the baby wasn’t his child.

Of course everything was a lie, but this lie made it possible for you to see your baby grow up.

,,I can’t even go to my husband’s-” your words died in tears.

,,He will always look over you, Mc, and we’ll help you. It will all be better soon…“ Zen patted your back. He too was mourning for his friend.

Zen

,,Mommy, do I really look like daddy?“ your youngest girl asked you as she brushed her long white hair.

You gulped as you looked over to your oldest daughter.

Her eyes were again filled with tears.

Zen died two years ago, leaving you behind with three wonderful children.

You had to give up your job as manager and instead began to work part time in a restaurant at night and other little jobs while the girls were at school.

,,Daddy… I don‘t even remember him,“ your middle child hissed as she entered the room.

,,I don’t even know him, that’s worse!“ your youngest began to sob.

She indeed looked like Zen. He would have been proud to see her beauty.

Well, he was proud of every daughter he had. He loved them with all his heart.

,,Trust me, I would rather not remember him than live with memories,“ your oldest daughter Mina hissed as she put down her lipstick and rushed out.

You sighed as you looked at your little family.

You were all sleeping in one single room. No one had their own space and instead they all argued with each other whenever they had the chance.

,,You’re always so negative, MINA!“ your middle child Hana hissed, followed by the youngest, Sera.

,,I HATE YOU GUYS! HE DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!“ she screamed, making your heart stop.

Mina glared at her and fell on her feet as she began to scream a loud, high pitched scream.

,,SERA RYU!“ you screamed.

The house died down as only sniffles were heard.

,,Your father died when the three of you caught a virus. He was trying to go to the shop for some medicine, but that doesn’t mean that one of you is at fault, understand?“ you hissed.

You sat down and began to cry yourself as you called them over into your arms, ready to embrace your crying children.

,,No one is at fault. Please, please don’t fight, girls, your father would be devastated to see that,“ you begged.

,,Sera, you do look like dad,“ Mina sobbed and smiled, making your youngest smile brightly.

Yoosung

Your son finally fell asleep after a long crying session.

Nothing hurt you more than consoling your son who was in deep pain because he got bullied at school for not having a father.

Yoosung died six months ago, making you move into a tinier apartment which led to your son attending another school.

However, you regretted every single decision.

You pulled your phone out as you tried to dry your salty tears.

You entered a new chatroom as you asked for help.

,,What happened? Shall I come over?“ Jumin responded, being the first one online.

,,I can come quicker, I‘m omw,“ Zen shortly afterwards responded.

,,No no, I just…

Can you please bring Jinyoung to school tomorrow? He got bullied… I think if other children see him with you guys, they will respect him more,“ you wrote.

Of course Seven jumped in and wrote six lines about how happy he would be to play ⅓ of a father, making you actually choke on your tears.

,,Thank you,“ you typed and decided to bring your son to bed.

Indeed the three boys kept their promise, making him laugh like never before.

Jaehee

,,And that‘s how we met,“ you laughed as you told your son about the meeting between you and Jaehee.

He nodded as he looked at the picture over the table.

It portrayed you, him, and Jaehee on his first day of school.

Jaehee died a year ago from an illness.

It all went so quickly. One day she got diagnosed and a few months later the two of you prepared the funeral for her.

As if it was yesterday, you remembered picking up your son and driving him to the hospital to give Jaehee the chance to see him one last time.

And indeed, it was their last goodbyes.

Jaehee would never see him finishing school, university, or begin a job, fall in love, or try to cheer him up while being lovesick.

She would never see him get married or have his first child.

It hurt your heart to know that you were the only one left for him.

On the other side, Jaehee was happy that at least he had you. ,,How did your favorite TikTok go?“ she groaned.

,,Take him to the moon for me,“ she whispered.

,,Mom was a strong woman,“ you told your son as a tear left your eye.

,,You too, Mommy, you too.“

Saeyoung 

You sighed as you turned off your alarm to get off the bed.

It was still dark outside, but you had to wake up with the last strength you had. You pulled yourself together and walked back to the kitchen where you prepared some breakfast for your child.

Like every morning, reality hit you as you silently sobbed while putting some rice into the bento box.

Your hands trembled as you looked up, just to gasp for air and keep going.

It was hard ever since Saeyoung died. Things weren’t going well for you.

You thanked God daily for the remaining person you had, that you had friends and family who supported you.

But you also begged God to make this bad life end. Even though it was selfish, you just wanted to see your family again.

Even if Jaehee often tried to make you understand how lucky you were, even at the times where Jumin promised to help you with the medical expenses, even at those times when Yoosung came over to cook dinner, and even at those times when Zen promised to go with your and your child to the park, you just wanted this to end.

You inhaled again and dried your tears as you made yourself a cup of coffee.

,,Good morning, baby,’’ you whispered as you turned on the lights of your son’s room.

,,Mo….m,’’ the boy groaned, probably in pain as you helped him get up to sit on his wheelchair.

,,Wet…’’ he gasped as you noticed that he wet his bed again.

,,It’s okay, baby, don’t worry,’’ you smiled, pushing the chair through the door, passing at the picture of Saeyoung, Saeran, and your two perfectly healthy children.

That day, Saeyoung didn’t just die in a car accident from speeding, he also took his brother and one of your children with him, leaving you with your second son disabled by the accident.

,,It’s okay,’’ you whispered.

Saeran

You looked up to the ceiling as you felt a warm, little hand on your chest.

Turning your head, you could see how relaxed the face of your daughter was as she slept safely and soundly, not worrying about anything or anyone.

You smiled as you saw how much she resembled Saeran, her father.

Your hand moved to stroke her head as you remembered the day you told him that you were pregnant, how he cared for you and his daughter in the pregnancy, how hard labor was, and how emotional it was when he once again decided to save his brother after seeing his own daughter.

,,He would be happy to see her,’’ he said after she was newly born and he was finally allowed to hold her in his embrace.

As if it was yesterday, you remembered how he taught her to walk, how he stood behind her while going to the park and how much he loved to feed her.

This all disappeared one day.

In the morning, he told you that he might have found Saeyoung and in the evening he came home, beaten up with a shotgun wound, collapsing in front of your porch.

It was your worst nightmare and you were honestly happy that this all happened at night, knowing that back then, your three year old daughter wouldn’t have seen anything.

Ever since then, life became harder.

You moved, fearing the Prime Minister or the agency Saeyoung was in would track you down and kill your daughter. The RFA kept helping you guys, but questions like, ,,Where is Dada’’ weren’t always easy to respond to.

,,Mommy,’’ she mumbled and opened her eyes, smiling brightly at you and rubbing her eyes to wake up.

,,Mhhh?’’ you asked her.

,,Daddy visited my dreams…’’ she giggled and fell asleep again, making you wander back to old memories too.

Jihyun

,,Mom, I don’t understand my homework,’’ Lucy said, whispering as she entered the room as quietly as possible.

You looked back to her and nodded as you looked back to the little bed your son was in before you walked away, your hand on Lucy’s hair as you smiled at her.

,,What topic?’’ you asked her.

You noticed that she was hesitating so it was probably art since it was related to her father.

,,Art?’’ you asked her to make it easier for her. She had a pretty hard time ever since Jihyun died, well, you too. You all had a pretty hard time.

Jumin wasn’t the same person anymore, or so Jaehee said. Yoosung seemed to regret a few things, and Saeran and Saeyoung were grieving, just like Zen.

Everyone was in pain after the painful death of that one special person.

,,Our teacher told us to draw a painful happy moment but… how am I supposed to make something happy if it’s supposed to be painful?’’ she asked you.

You nodded. ,,Well, describe something painful. What is painful?’’ you asked her.

,,Getting hurt is painful, falling is painful, getting hit is painful…’’

,,How about losing someone?’’ you asked her, making her think about it for a few seconds before she asked you if it wasn’t something sad instead of painful. 

You nodded. ,,When I told you that daddy wouldn’t come home anymore back then when you were younger, do you remember how you felt?’’ you asked her.

,,Did your heart hurt? Did you feel scared and suffocated? Wasn’t it painful?’’ you asked her and even though you could see that she was tearing up, you knew that this was something the two of you had to talk about.

Indeed, Lucy closed up about her feelings ever since then, but this was also a good opportunity.

,,Now, think of a happy moment with your father. Isn’t it something painful but a happy moment as well?’’ you asked her and got up, knowing that she knew what to do.

A week later, you were invited to see your daughter receive a prize for the most beautiful portrait of Jihyun as an angel looking down at the world, a painful and happy moment for everyone who knew him.

Vanderwood

,,Mommy,’’ your son asked you, pulling at your shirt as you stood in front of the stove.

,,Mhhh?’’ you asked him without looking as you were cooking.

,,Why did Daddy leave us?’’ he asked you out of the blue, making you stop everything and look at him.

,,The fish is burning,’’ he suddenly said as he saw the flames, making you shriek and quickly take care of everything.

After everything was taken care of, you took him in your arms and showed him a few pictures of his father.

For now, you never showed him his father. You never dared to speak about Vanderwood, fearing that your son wouldn’t understand your words, but by now you learned that he was much stronger than you ever thought.

,,This is your father, Vanderwood. He didn’t leave because he wanted to, he was kind of forced to,’’ you told him, gulping down the bad feeling you had as your heart began to beat quickly.

,,And why is he gone?’’ he asked you, softly touching the picture of a cool looking brown haired man.

This was on the day you two went to eat after you craved a salad and ice cream.

,,He had an important job to do,’’ you explained. Of course you didn’t tell him that the agency tracked him down and killed him brutally while he tried to keep you, his heavily pregnant, hidden.

,,And what is he doing now?’’ he kept asking you as you remembered the day, as if it was yesterday, when he pushed you into the closet, begging you to close your ears and never come out until called you.

However, that call never came. Instead, Saeyoung pulled you out moments later. You didn’t remember how much time passed.

You just knew that he asked you to keep your eyes closed as he led the way out of the room.

,,He is now protecting you, me, uncle Saeyoung, uncle Saeran, uncle Jumin, uncle Zen, uncle Yoosung and aunt Jaehee,’’ you answered with a smile.

How much he would have loved to meet his son, you were sure.

He was your happiness after all, the last memento of Vanderwood.

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

26.07.2021// 00:13 MEST

[weirdochick56]

The Bodyguard 2- Bucky Barnes AU

Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, insults, snark, and sassy!Buckster sexy times (ok, so maybe only slightly sexy)

Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots or Characters mentioned

Word Count: 5, 173 words

Summary: The Reader and Bucky’s hate for eachother is at an all time high; she can’t seem to rid herself of him and he, well he can’t seem to get her to cooperate with him. But as their frustrations grow, a late-night outing might just be what they both need to see other parts of eachother. 

A/n: This has been a long time in the making, but I finally felt inspired enough to continue the story. Hope you enjoy it!

~The Bodyguard 1~

***

“You can stop following me now,” you grumble with thorny irritation, rolling your eyes at the tall persistent shadow staying hot on your tail. 

It was in vain to ask him to leave, you knew. Agent Brainless was ridiculously adamant about following you around the moment you stepped foot outside of the palace and he was -infuriatingly so- a stubborn man.

How he knew that you were leaving even when you had concocted what you considered a genius plan to evade those infuriatingly pretty grey irises was beyond you.

He sighs at your words, and you can see the annoyance bubbling to the surface of his cold professional exterior, though he tries his hardest to keep a straight face. 

“Your highness, I think we both know I won’t do that,” he responds simply. “Now if you would please stop being so stubborn and simply do as I ask and come with me to the car so that this is easier for us both...” 

You can tell his patience is wearing thin because, in the past few weeks of having him follow you everywhere you went, you had made it a point to figure out his exact breaking point. 

And as you continue making your escape to town like he isn’t even there, you know that so is yours. If there’s anything that can give you that deep burning satisfaction you sought with everything you did, it was pissing Agent Barnes off.

He had patiently asked you to retreat back the way you came so he could “safely” transport you in a castle-owned car, but you refused redundantly because your friend was already waiting for you, but maybe also because you loved the little twitch of his eye every time you refused to listen to his directions.

If you were being completely honest, he really should’ve been asking you to come back to the castle and not go to a club in town at all- as per your father’s orders. But you weren’t fond of said orders and you definitely didn’t want some dark and mysterious shadow following you around during a night of fun with friends. 

“No,” is all you say because in the few minutes you’ve spent talking to him you’ve noticed he’s the most infuriated when your responses are curt and nonchalant. 

You want to see him snap oh so bad...seeing those steely grays lose their cool? Gold. 

“Princess...” he growls in warning, daring you to cut that little thread of control he had left in him with your sharp tongue. 

You don’t look back at him even once enjoying the thrill that travels up your spine at his low-timbre words and the way his voice travels straight to your core, tugging at your short black dress lightly. 

You wanted to see what he would do should he be pushed over the edge. It was fun.

“I already told you, I’m not listening to you. My friend is already waiting for me. And I’m sorry if you have an issue with- Ahh!” Your words choke back into your throat and morph into a shocked yelp when big rough hands grip your hips, spinning you around and without much of a warning, lifting you with incredible ease.

Before you know it, you’re being carelessly thrown over a broad, strong shoulder.

You let out a small ‘oomph’ when the wind gets knocked out of you and all you see is a firm ass, the blood rushing to your head. 

“What the hell do your think you’re doing you absolute buffoon?!” You screech hysterically, wriggling aggressively against his hold on your thighs. 

He barely flinches, only wrapping his muscular arm tighter around your legs and adjusting you on his shoulder like it was a mere midnight stroll for him and you weighed no more than what a feather did. 

“I’m taking you to the car,” he informs as if it’s obvious, voice full with obnoxious satisfaction. 

“Get your filthy hands off me this instant you utter and complete idiot!” You growl, twisting harshly but he doesn’t let go so you start pounding on his firm back with your fists, fighting to free yourself of him. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!”

He just laughs at what seems to be your weak attempts to break away. He laughs.

You gasp at the absolute and complete audacity he has of laughing when he’s treating you, the single heir to the Androvian throne, like a sack of potatoes. 

“You ass!” You wriggle around some more, tugging at his hands to try to pry them off your legs but all he does is smack them away as if they were mere pesky flies. 

“I may be,” he chokes back a small snort but only barely. “But at least I’m the only ass trying to keep your reckless self in check, princess.”

Indignation, humiliation, and utter vexation all burn deep inside you like a thrumming fire ready to ravage everything in its way when it got the chance to escape your body as you slowly fall limp against him. 

Resignation comes hand in hand with the deep desire for revenge and you fist your hands in deep ache to somehow exercise it. 

He carries you all the way to the garage of cars in the back part of the castle, walks over to a black SUV out of all the expensive cars to choose from, opens it and all but throws you into the back leather seats like you’re not a fucking human, much less the princess of the land he’s currently stepping in. 

You land flat on your back in the smooth leather interior of the luxury SUV with a small thud and instantly sit up to glare at him heatedly. “Do you have any idea who I am? Be gentle, you brute!” 

Annoyingly enough, he simply ignores you and leans over your body. His heat floods through your bare skin and feels good for a second and you subtly inhale his musky scent as he tugs on the seatbelt, roughly pulling it over you. 

You forget about your hatred for him for a split second and that only makes you angrier when it comes back full force. 

You fucking idiot, Y/n. 

In a last and desperate attempt of defiance, you try to push his hands away to which he responds by firmly pressing you back by your shoulder into your seat and staring you dead in the eye with blazing grey eyes. 

The fire that swirls in them is...something. Not necessarily scary, but intimidating and...something else.

Something that makes your skin flush and your nerves throb to life. 

You stare right back, tilting your chin up to show him you weren’t backing down or scared of him and his brute force. He got too under your skin and you knew you got under his which only offered you only a limited amount of comfort. 

He clenches his jaw as he clicks the seatbelt into place, never looking away from your challenging gaze. As if to stick another dagger into your burning insides. As if to reassert his power here. 

Your labored breaths are all that can be heard for miles to come in the calm night air and he leans close for a second, your heaving chests gently brushing.

Not meaning for it to happen, you feel your nipples harden beneath the flimsy fabric of your black party dress and you wonder if you imagine his hands clenching around your shoulder -his fingers digging into your flesh with suppression- or the sly flick of his eyes from your eyes to your lips. 

You wonder if you imagine the look of heat that passes over his eyes when your breaths mix the second time seems to stop and an overwhelming emotion washes over you. 

But then it’s gone as soon as it came and hatred burns deep in your belly once more. So deep that it hurts and brings painful tears to your eyes, your nose burning so hard you can’t focus through your blurry vision.

You lean in closer, so close your nose is brushing just barely against his and pause for a second. A second of torture for him, a second of uncertainty, a second where his breath catches and his pupils dilate. 

Then you speak, voice trembling with overwhelming anger. 

“I have never,” you whisper, licking your lips. “Been treated with such disrespect.” You swallow hard, cheeks red with humiliation. 

You see a flash of guilt in his eyes but it’s quickly replaced by his usual look of cool professionalism- not even anger anymore. Not even that.

And he leans right back into you, a wave of heat passing over both of you. “Then learn to listen next time. It’s for your safety.” 

And just like that he’s drawing back, slamming the passenger door closed and climbing into the driver’s seat- leaving you cold and angry beyond reason.

A moment of tense silence passes before he releases a tiny sigh and breaks it by turning on the ignition. 

“Where are we going?”

*

BUCKY’S POV

I watch her laugh at something one of her friends says from a dark corner of the club and it’s hard not to stare for reasons other than my duty being just that...to look after her. 

The club was a luxurious one, with high ceilings, intricate designs and a VIP section where we were immediately escorted to.

Her Highness’s friends, a blonde guy and girl who had nodded at me in polite acknowledgment were already waiting for her there and I assumed that the few seconds when she had stopped her sulking and taken out her phone from her clutch were the seconds she was texting her friends to meet her there instead. 

I would never admit it, but I enjoyed watching her cave. It was like taming a wild horse, even if momentarily. 

Princess Y/n was a brat, plain and simple. Selfish, childish, and feisty as hell, I had never met anyone as completely and utterly vexing as her and to say these past few weeks had been hell would be an understatement. 

If I wasn’t so good at my job, I would’ve lost her already. She threw me for a loop any chance she got, cutting corners and doing everything she could to avoid my protection. 

As I stared at her with that pretty ass smile on her annoyingly beautiful face, it’s hard to imagine that that was the same person pushing every single one of my buttons just a few minutes before. 

She actually looked relaxed and...nice?

God, she infuriated me in ways I had no idea I could be infuriated, discovered buttons I didn’t know I had and pushed them to the point I had to throw her over my damn shoulder like a sack of flour.

I was a professional, for God’s sake. Had always been one with every single one of the cases I was assigned, so why was she the one to get under my skin?

...And why did I enjoy having her perfectly round ass so close to my face? Why did I keep thinking about the defiance in those stupidly big eyes over and over like I....craved it?

I wondered to myself as I watched her take down a shot by the bar. She glanced at me over her shoulder, still smiling, but it quickly melted away when our gazes clashed and my own mood soured instantly. 

I grimaced when she looked away as if I had burnt her with my eyes and quickly pulled my head out of the gutter. 

The fact that she was utterly gorgeous didn’t change how annoying she was. Not to mention I was here on a job. 

One I fully intended to complete, no matter how fucking difficult the client was.

*

The night moves on at a slow pace for me. The princess parties and I watch her like a hawk, making sure not to let her get too wild. 

So far I had pried off five guys who were trying their luck with her. From what I’d read on her file and the extensive research I’d done online, her face wasn’t really well known. 

She was always kept  secret and would be until she was crowned queen of Androvia- some weird old belief or something- so not many people knew what she looked like. 

Meaning, these guys probably didn’t know who they were trying to get all handsy with on the dance floor and would only assume was some rich daddy’s girl once my towering form appeared and nicely escorted them away. 

For the most part nicely, anyway. Some I had to get a little rougher with. 

I make sure to keep my eyes glued on her form, ignoring the way she moved her hips in that tiny black dress. It hugged her alluring curves like a glove and I swallowed hard as she grinded on her female friend, head thrown back and a free smile on her face. 

“She is...beautiful, isn’t she?” 

I calmly turn towards the voice as it hums out from beside me, turning to see the guy she came with. He takes a sip of his drink, smirking as his eyes remain on the way the princess waves her hands in the air to the beat of the song, sensually shaking her hips as if she was one with the sexy R&B song I had no idea the name of. 

I clear my throat, remaining stock still in my bodyguard pose. “Sir, I”m only here to protect her Highness. I really don’t-”

“Oh don’t even try to hide it. She’s easily the most beautiful woman in this whole club.”

He takes my silence as confirmation, it seems, because he proceeds to speak on as if I’ve agreed.

“But it’s not just her physical appearance is it? It’s something else. Something...inside,” he whispers. 

When I don’t respond, he continues bitterly. “I’m warning you; don’t fall for her. It’ll only bring you a world of pain, trust me.”

I catch the pain in his voice and stiffen. “I would never fall for one of my subjects, sir,” I assure him.

He laughs sourly. “Sure bud. You keep telling yourself that.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I insist, swallowing thickly as she laughs, beautiful smile wide and her laughter too melodious to be coming out of such a wretched little urchin. 

“Well,” he coughs suddenly, clapping me in the shoulder. “I think I need another drink. Want one?”

I eye his hand which he slowly pries off and shake my head with a slightly clenched jaw.

“I’m on the job, sir,” I remain calm and professional despite the fact that all I wanted to do was break that hand for putting stupid thoughts in my head. 

Because for a second there, as the bright club lights shun down on her, I could see what he talked about when he said there was something inside. In that smile, those eyes, that laugh...

But then she made eye contact with me and the feeling turned bitter so quick it’s a miracle I didn’t get whiplash. 

She was a brat. Nothing more.

*

YOUR POV

Sometime late into the night, you had found myself fairly buzzed. Not enough to fall on your face, but enough that walking- well, stumbling over to Agent Asshole only seemed more and more attractive an action.

He glances at you with those eyes and you can’t help the anger the bubbles within you. “Do you plan on staring me down the entire night?”

“It’s my job,” is all he says. 

You scowl fiercely at him. “I hate you,” you seethe.

He raises a dark brow but otherwise keeps that stoic expression on his face. “Do you want to leave, your Highness?”

His neutral tone and complete lack of reaction only angers you more and you shake your head furiously. “No, I don’t want to leave. I want you to leave though.”

He presses his lips firmly together. “I’m sorry-“

“No, you’re not.”

“Huh?” He cocks his side slightly to the side and you lean closer to him, craning your neck to look him in the eye.

“I said; you’re not sorry. If you were sorry, you WOULD LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” You feel your drunken emotions deep in your chest and without much effort, your voice quickly escalates.

He sighs heavily. “Okay, your highness, I think it’s time I take you back to the castle. C’mon,” he waves a hand toward the door.

You laugh at him coldly, shaking your head. “Who do you think you are, ordering me around? Know your place asshole, you are below me- never forget,” you growl snarkily, leaning right into his face.

You feel his breathing quicken against your cheeks the longer you defiantly smirk up at him, his calm eyes darkening.

You realized you enjoyed pushing him to the edge, that you craved this look on his face...

He smirks mockingly down at you, staring you down. “You can come willingly, your highness, or I can throw you over my shoulder like last time.” He leans straight into your ear, whispering hotly. “I’m sure you would rather not go through the embarrassment.”

You swallow thickly, your heart hammering against your chest and you’re not sure it’s from anger anymore. With disgust, you jerk away from him, glaring holes into his head.

“Let’s go.”

*

“You can go, Agent Obnoxious,” you mumble drunkenly, waving a dismissive hand at him as you stumble into your warm room, practically ripping off your heels.

You throw them somewhere in the corner of the large room, sighing with relief when you feel your bare feet touching the soft carpeted floor. 

Your knees shake slightly and buckle and you end up tripping forward.

You land on the ground with a soft grunt and for some reason, laughter bubbles deep in your chest.

“Your Highness!”

A few seconds later, you feel strong warm hands wrapping around your body to heave you up. You place your hands on his strong arms for support and look up at Agent Barnes.

The laughter immediately dies on your lips when you see a beautiful concerned frown of engraved deep in his face. It looks so sincere and his arms are so strong...

Before you know what you’re doing, a small mumble is leaving your lips. “You...” you cut yourself off abruptly when his eyes meet yours.

His hands now rest lightly on your waist, and you’re so close you can smell him. His scent is deep and rich and manly, so unlike the scent of those rich assholes you were forced to mingle with on a daily basis.

And his hands, are strong and resilient. The callouses on them tells you that he’s worked his entire life. Those hands, the ones holding you right now, They’ve probably handled a gun, they’ve probably saved so many lives...

You bite your lip, thinking about the way those hands felt on the skin of your arm and how heavenly it would feel if it traveled all over.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as you crane up your neck to stare up at him.

He stares down at you, and even when your room is dark, the light of the moonlight that filters in from the huge window highlights the heavy tension in his gaze.

You’re both unmoving and you wonder if he enjoys touching you as much as you enjoy his touch.

He inhaled deeply, his eyes flickering to your lips and eyes and then back.

You want to ask him what he’s thinking. You want to tell him to just do it -to just kiss you because you wouldn’t dare push him away- not in this state, not when the alcohol and his scent and eyes were clogging every single sense and reason you had, but you’re afraid to break the spell of whatever this was. 

So instead, you wait on abated breath, feeling like you’re both on the verge of something utterly earth-shattering, for him to move.

Finally, he speaks a few seconds later and it’s a quiet murmur. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

You ignore the sharp sting of his rejection when you were so clearly begging him to kiss you and step away from his touch as if he’s burnt you.

You turn around so he can’t see the hurt in your eyes. “You can go now Agent Brainless,” you say coldly over your shoulder, but you know it’s a lot softer than the other time.

Another second passes. “Princess..” he whispers.

You ignore his barely audible whisper and angrily begin undressing, tugging at the straps of your dress.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing?” He growls lowly as you begin to pull your dress down to your waist.

With a sarcastic smile, your turn towards him, your top half completely naked aside from your black lacy bra.

His gaze immediately falls on your half-naked chest, but aside from the small flicker in his eyes and gulp he takes, he gives no other indication of shock.

You raise a brow. “Are you going to watch me undress now too, Agent Barnes?” You ask mockingly.

His eyes find yours again and they’re darker than you’ve ever seen them. They send shivers through your whole body and you almost give into the urge to look away, but the anger and frustration within you don’t allow your gaze to waver.

“I’m not leaving until you’re safely in bed,” he husks, clearly trying his best to remain professional and cold as his icy stare bores into your eyes- purposefully looking away from your naked form.

You tilt your head up at him innocently, slowly sauntering closer to him. “Oh? Well in that case, do you mind helping me with the zipper of my dress? It’s stuck.”

You turn your back on him and a smirk blossoms in your face as you hear his breathing strain, your ass slightly brushing against his crotch area. 

He blows out a shaky exhale and it blows against your naked back, all hot and angry. 

When he makes no move to help you, you look at him over your shoulder. “Well?” 

His grave expression doesn’t budge. “I can’t do that,” he says lowly. 

But even as he resentfully spits this, he doesn’t budge and his eyes are still tracing over your body, their electric desire leaving goosebumps over wherever they ran over.

You roll your eyes at him. “Then turn around, you idiot.” 

He growls, fisting his hands and clenching his jaw tightly but doesn’t try to fight you on it and turns his broad back to you.

You’re intoxicated, so it’s probably because you’re not thinking straight, but as you quickly slip on a silk night gown and stare at his back, you can’t help the deep heavy sadness that sinks into your chest. 

Why hadn’t he kissed you just now? You could’ve sworn he wanted to and you sure as hell did...it was there, the moment, the split second when you were willing to risk it all, to overlook any and all boundaries, cross all imposing lines- but you lost it. 

Pushing your hair to the side, you convince yourself it was for the best. 

“I’m done,” you say softly, climbing into bed. 

Agent Barnes nods at you stiffly, turning on his heels to leave as you get under the covers. Blaming this on your intoxication, you suddenly find yourself exclaiming. 

“Wait!” 

He pauses right before his foot moves outside the doorframe and turns toward you, eyebrows raised. “You need something, Your Highness?”

You stare at him seriously, pressing your head against your pillow. “Don’t...leave, please,” you whisper softly, curling into a ball at the tenderness of your voice.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you admit quietly. 

He freezes, staring at you as if he’d never seen you before and you avert your gaze, afraid maybe you let on too much. 

“Sorry,” you quickly apologize, but that only flusters you more. “I-I mean not sorry, you asshole. Just- whatever. I’m in bed now, you can go.” 

Feeling embarrassed, you quickly flip over and turn your back to him.  

Seconds later, you hear the door click close and then nothing. A heavy sigh escapes you and you try to suppress the feeling of disappointment that envelops your whole body. 

You didn’t know if it was the drinks or the cold distant dinners you’d been having with your family...but you had never felt more alone. All the clubbing and trying to escape your destiny by trying to pave a life of your own couldn’t fill in that emptiness you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried.  

You didn’t want to feel like that anymore. Not tonight. 

So even if it was your bodyguard who you hated with everything in you, you needed someone just to be there. Even if it was just to sit in silence with.  

Suddenly, you hear a gentle swish noise and gasp lightly, flipping over. Agent Barnes has thrown his jacket over the chair beside your bed and is loosening his tie and he stares at you. His beautiful gaze sucks you in as you blink up at him in surprise. 

He shrugs. “I can’t just....leave you here alone.” 

Your chest clenches painfully and warmth travels all over your body like warm gooey honey. The feeling of having someone there for you when you need them most is almost overwhelmingly strong. 

“Thank you,” you whisper so quietly, you’re shocked he even hears it. 

He tilts his head at you, frowning with that handsome face of his. “For what? It’s my job.” 

There he goes detaching himself. With a gentle shrug, you nod and curl into a ball under your covers, trying to covet sleep. 

You try this for a few minutes and you’re tired, but you can’t help thinking about Agent Barnes sitting in a hard chair all night. After a while of tossing and turning, you sit up. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you breathe with irritation. 

“What? What happened?” he sits up instantly, and though you could tell he was on the verge of dozing off, his sharp senses are impressive as he reaches for the gun on his ankle frantically. 

You sigh, hating the way your cheeks grow hot and you look away timidly. “Just get into bed,” you say roughly. 

“What?”

You bite your lip, looking at him in the eyes. “I said; get into bed with me. That chair is uncomfortable.” 

He laughs lightly. “Princess, I was trained by the world’s best assassins. I was taught to sleep on a cold concrete ground if need be.” He gives the chair a firm pat. “This chair is a luxury for a guy like me.”

You stare at him for a few seconds more, wondering more about his past before lightly shaking your head. 

“I don’t care. I still feel bad that I made you sleep here on a chair. Just get in already, will you?” You growl at his stubbornness. “The bed is huge, there’ll be enough space for the both of us, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” you add on, softly. 

After a few seconds of intense eye contact, he finally relents with a small sigh. “Fine.” 

Hesitantly, he cuffs his sleeves and perches himself on the edge of the bed- all stiff and tight. “Good?” He asks, glancing at you with raised brows.

You frown. “You’re kidding.”

“What?”

“You’re not actually planning to sleep like that are you?” You snort. 

“I told you-”

“That you were trained by dangerous assassins, yeah yeah. But you’re still a human and a ridiculous one at that,” you scoff before suddenly smirking.  “You’re not afraid of lil old me, are you? I’m tiny- I couldn’t possibly hurt you...too much,” you offer him a faux innocent smile, batting your lashes. 

He stares at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh trust me, I’ve met girls like you before. You definitely don’t bite.” 

You raise a brow amusedly. “Girls like me?”

His sexy smirk widens. “Yeah. You’re all bark but no bite,” he replies vaguely.

Feeling partially indignant and partially curious, you decide to probe him for answers. “Oh yeah?”

He can’t resist your subtle challenge and continue speaking. “You’re always in power, constantly being chased after because you’re beautiful and rich and you act like it’s what you want in a guy, but it isn’t, is it?”

Deeply intrigued by his generally accurate analysis, you can’t help but laugh. “Oh?”

“No.” He stares deeply into your eyes and the smile slips off your lips as he says his next words with the intensity of a thousand suns. “You bark out orders and you take on responsibilities like a boss, but what you really want is a man. Not a pushover boy that’ll listen to your every command and constantly try to please you, fall at your feet...But a man that’ll choke slam you on the bed, that’ll make you his, that’ll torture you with the deepest pits of hellish pleasure until he ruins every other man for you. You want to be controlled, brought over the edge so far you won’t ever be able to go there by yourself and then at the last moment get that taken away from you. You want to be used.” 

You openly gape at him but he ignores you and slightly scoots closer, still at a safe distance, but close enough where you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“Sleep, Princess,” he whispers. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

At first, you’re too shocked to react. Your heart is positively hammering against your ribcage and your cheeks are uncharacteristically red. You were flushed. How had he managed to...’you know what?’ You think. ‘No.’ 

You breathe in deeply. ‘ I’m not going to think about it anymore.’

Because doing so would mean letting him win. And also, never mind the fact that he’s in your bed right now...

Decidedly, you squeeze your eyes shut, begging sleep to come amidst all your stupid, surely drunken thoughts about your stupid bodyguard and kissing him, or simply straddling him right now...

Despite how much you disliked him, you felt safe and protected, like you could let your guard down. And yet...not enough. 

Soon, lulled by the steady beating of his heart and the warmth of his body, you curl into a ball and slowly let your heavy lids close, relaxing completely.

“Oh, and Agent Brainless?” you murmur, on the very verge of sleep. 

“Yes, princess?” He looks at you. 

You manage to send him one last cold smirk before answering.  

“Don’t misinterpret this, right now. I’m merely asking you to do your job.” 

And then darkness takes over.

Before fully giving into the softness of the darkness of slumber, though, you think you hear him laugh softly and say something like “wouldn’t dream of it, brat.” 

****

They’re honestly growing on me. Should I continue?

ALSO YALL SEE TFATWS????  SEBASTIAN LOOKS SO DARN GOOD PLEASEEEEEE

A special thanks to:

@lilypalmer1987

@jessikared97

@sammykb1994

@mogaruke

@mo-onstarrs

@loveofmychips @juliesland​

[kaylathekittykat225]

Carnival Ride of Horror // Steve Harrington x Reader

Carnival of Horror // SH

Warning/s: Cursing, laughing at inappropriate times, (very minimal) mentions/implications of abuse/stalking (just wanna warn, its super small but just in case!)

Word Count: 3.5k

Hey guys! It’s been a bit since I’ve written, lemme tell you, life has been kinda crappy and its just a little less crappy now! So I decided to start pecking at the keyboard again and this is what came of it! This lovely person requsted this work and I just got around to starting to really write because I had a free week. Anywhoodles, it’s good to write something again and I hope yall enjoy it!

Again thank you for this idea @seraphiiii

omg i came across your post about writing ideas in my feed and got so excited to see both steve harrington and young justice in the tags lmao. but i think a steve harrington x reader where reader and him go to an amusement park and reader is terrified of the rides so he’s like comforting her throughout them and encouraging her but also laughing (in a good natured way obvi) about how scared she is and stuff? i think that would be so cute!!

Here’s my Masterlist.

Enjoy.

-----

“Stevie, when we agreed to have a date night away from the kids, I didn't think we would be going into a mass of more kids.” As he pulled the keys out, you stared at the bright light shining machinery that had been set in the middle of a field outside the city. The annual summer fair had finally made its way to Hawkins, and it had left a buzz in the air as everyone planned when they would go, talked about what rides had come this year, who their ride buddy would be; it had been all the kids had been talking about for weeks. They put a day together the coming weekend to go as a group and they planned to drag Steve and you along on the off chance that they needed an “adult” to allow them on the rides.

Funny how they assumed either Steve or you knew how to adult.

“Cause I thought it would be a nice change from us just watching movies or having dinner.”

“Oh, so dino nuggets are no longer date-worthy for you.” Steve almost took you seriously, but he saw the grin that has graced your lips at your own comment. He relaxed a little knowing that you weren’t upset with his idea for date night, but he had always wanted to kiss someone at the top of a Ferris Wheel, and he would do anything to get you to the top of the rotating ride.

“So, you’re not mad that I chose here for tonight?” You shook your head and pulled at the door handle separating the two of you from the outside life.

“Of course not Stevie, I just thought it was an interesting choice.” The smile you chose to have was one that hopefully convinced him that you were okay with where the pair of you were going, even if you weren’t happy with the choice.

You can be happy with the idea of going to a carnival as long as you don’t go on-”Cool, so what ride do you want to do first?”

“Shit.” The world slipped out before you could stop yourself as Steve finished paying for your tickets and asked what you had said. “Nothing just kicked myself. Um…” You looked around frantically for something to do that wasn’t flashing brightly and spinning faster than the legal highway speed. “Let’s go over there!”

Steve followed your hand as he saw you point towards the stands of games that were rigged and way too fricking expensive, but he would do it for you. “Alright, starting out with some games I see, I like it.”

The two of you ran through a few of the games, most of them where Steve got way too into it and you had to step between them as he tried screaming that he deserved that stuffed bear/pony/cat/fish, because he almost had it every single time. He did beat out the basketball one, one of the last ones the two of you did on that strip, bolstering his confidence just enough to get him into a cheery enough mood.

“Alright! We played some games, and let the crazies test out the rides so I’m pretty sure they won’t break down on us. Which one should we do first? They got a drop tower, or how about the pit viper swings? Or, or, or how about we…” The night had been going enjoyable up until Steve turned to the rides you had managed to distract him from and pointed at the glowing and fast-moving monsters.

“How about we do the haunted walk over there?” Steve followed your pointing finger with a quizzical look, he hadn’t really taken note of the scary attraction before, never thought to really look to it with everything else going on. “I bet it won’t even be scary to us after everything we’ve been through right ha.”

You took off with a dry laugh without waiting for a response from him; his cries were head behind you, but the haunted house looked better than anything else around you. “Y/N.” He called you again, but you walked faster. By the time you got to the stairs leading into the building, you were practically running up them to get into the dark house with smoke billowing out of it.

“Y/N!” Your name was the last thing you heard before diving through the door and physically bumping into one of the scarers dressed as a zombie. He seemed nice, breaking character enough to ask if you were okay before you had already turned the corner and left him behind too.

Twisting and turning, you didn’t pay much mind to the screaming witches, zombies, skeletons, or anything that happened all around you; over the music and screaming, you could vaguely hear your name, giving you an indication that Steve followed you.

Not too far in, you found a quieter corner with only a couple cobwebs around it where you quickly ducked back into and tried pressing yourself into it deeper, hoping to watch Steve walk right by you.

Why the hell were you running from your boyfriend? You gained a sense of logic for a second where you paused. Why were you running? This was super childish of you and really had no reason. All Steve wanted to do was go on a few rides and you were being selfish and completely ruining what was going to be one of the few evenings you didn’t have to babysit the kids.

As the guilt started to swirl with your desire to not be found, you didn’t notice as the Frankenstein in the room had taken notice of you hiding in the corner and started to tromp over to you. “Hey, miss, you can’t be hiding in here, you gotta keep moving.”

“I’ll be out in a second, sir, let me just-” “You can’t be here-” “If you give me a second, I will leave as soon as I can-” “Miss you have to leave-” “Give me one dan minute-” “Y/N!”

Among all the screaming the Frankenstein and you had been doing was your name being called by a third and new voice along with a hand clasping onto your shoulder. Looking to the hand, you saw the unmistakable outline of the man you were hiding from. “There you are babe, why were you running off.” Just looking at the Frankenstein’s demeanor, you could tell he went into defense mode suddenly.

“Were you hiding from him miss? Are you okay? Do you feel safe?” The painted man moved to step between you and Steve in an attempt to separate you two.

“Whoa, whoa buddy, back off. She’s my girlfriend, chill out.” Steve tried stepping around the man o little success.

“Oh, your girlfriend? And she’s running from you? I don’t think this is looking very good for you, buddy.” The two were shooting back and forth at each other, getting chest to chest, and starting to cause a larger disturbance that started o be heard over the music and background scream noises. More workers it looked like started to slip into the room and try to get the two men to quiet down, going so far as to begin threats of throwing them out of the haunted house.

You were pulled away from the situation before being pushed away and into the next room, looking like it was on its way to the exit in the next two or three rooms: your destination.

-----

“Y/N?” His voice finally chirped up next to you as Steve took a seat next to you on the grass at the edge of the carnival. “You okay?” When he saw you sitting over here, he had quickly jogged over and took her in as he did so: sitting with her face pressed into her knees and arms wrapped tightly around her legs as she kept herself in as tight of a ball as possible.

You didn’t respond at first, only moving your head to look up at your boyfriend, the person you have embarrassed tonight and most definitely pissed off with your childish antics tonight. “I’m sorry.”

“Whoa what do you have to apologize for? I’ve been worried about you and wanted to make sure that you are okay.” His hand found its way to your back and began rubbing circles into your shoulder blade.

“I was really childish today and you didn’t deserve it, all because I was scared of the stupid rides.” Your words may have been mumbles, but he heard every word clearly.

“Hold on. Babe, did you say you were scared of the rides?” Your small and timid nod was enough for him to understand. “Why didn’t you tell me? I never would have brought you here if I knew that!”

Swallowing the thick feeling in your throat, you looked up at him and saw the disappointment and hurt in his face and that hurt. “Because you were so excited about it, I thought I could get through it and do at least one or two with you. But as we got closer, I guess my nerves got the best of me and I just...ran. Like a stupid child.”

“Hey, hey, hey, no.” Steve quickly shuffled to kneel in front of you and grabbed your hands, holding them in his own and your legs fell down to where you were now criss cross apple sauce. “I’m not gonna force you to do any of these rides if you don’t wanna. If you want to just go home, we can make this a movie night if that works better for you.”

“No, Stevie,” His mouth quirked up at this name. “You already bought the tickets; I don’t want you to waste the money you earned because I’m a scaredy cat.”

Steve took a second to think, racking his brain on how to salvage what has been an eventful evening. “How about…” He paused again and just stared at you with you staring back at him, waiting to hear what he wanted to say. “You can say no, how about we try a few rides, to try and get you on some. If you don’t like riding after one, we can go home, and you can at least say you did it.”

Mulling this idea over in your head, your eyes shifted from where your boyfriend sat in front of you to the bright and joyous scream filled rides were. “I suppose they don’t all look so bad.” You murmured to him, staring particularly at the giant Ferris Wheel that turned, a small memory from early on in your relationship popping into your head. Steve had mentioned a few times that his dream date would be to take a girl up on a Ferris Wheel and cuddle her and kiss her when they got to the top.

“Okay, we can try a few.” Though shaky, your voice was a little stronger this time and you gave Steve a small smile.

“You sure?” A nod. “Okay, I’ll let you choose which one we go on, okay?” Another nod.

Together, the two of you stood to your feet and approached the hustle and bustle of the carnival grounds again. “What did that Frankenstein do to you? I hope he didn’t get you in trouble or anything.” You asked as you laced your hand with Steve while the other went to hold onto his arm, squeezing it slightly as you got closer to the machines and your stomach growing heavy again.

“Oh him, he didn’t do much, just tried scaring me when he though I was some creep chasing you.” He chuckled at the short story, glancing over to you as you took in the carnival for really the first time, looking for something that didn’t freak you out. “How about we start with those spinning pods over there? All they do is spin around and if you want it to, we can make it spin on the inside too.”

Following his finger, you saw what he was referring to as it did spin around, the four small egg things with windows in them were spinning on the main machinery but also appeared to be spinning on their own. As you got closer and apparently joined the line, you could see inside one of them a group of middle school boys cackling as they pulled on the weird center disk that kinda looked like a pizza pan. “Yeah, we can give it a try.” The shakiness in your voice had come back and your grip on Steve tightened.

“Hey, you got this I’ll be right here with ya.” He returned the squeeze to your hand and fishes through his pocket for two tickets to hand over at the entrance. “Up ya go.” He mutters as he helps you up the three stairs leading into the egg ride thing you were entering before he stepped in behind you and took his place next to you. You were already holding a death grip on the center console when the door was shut, and Steve sat next to you. “You know what this is?” He asked gesturing to the disk you were holding onto with the vice grip.

“Something for me to hold onto?” You shocked yourself with how violently your voice was shaking as you heard something start to rumble around you. “Oh, shit its moving.” Steve let a quick chuckle out before he stopped himself and tried explaining the center console would cause the pod thing to spin. “Fuck no! Don’t you dare make this thing spin.” Bloody murder was not even near definitive enough of how much you were screaming.

“Babe, babe calm down, it’s fine! I promise, ha!” In comparison to your screaming, Steve seemed to be having the time of his life as he laughed; at least he wasn’t making the ride spin. “Babe, babe, babe, I’m so sorry I’m laughing, I promise I didn’t mean to, but you were screaming so much! And it was hilarious!” Steve held onto his sides as he nearly fell out of the pod and waited for you to follow his laughing self. When you didn’t step out, he turned back around and saw you still had your hands clenched very tightly to the metal plate, your eyes wide and your lips pursed together. “Sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about the rides, do you wanna go home?”

Hearing him soften up got you to finally look at him and slowly let go of the wheel. “N-n-no. I’m…” You paused to catch your breath and steady your voice. “I’m good, I just don’t know if I can do any more of these kinds of things.” Taking his hand, you pulled yourself up and stepped out from the ride and have yourself a few seconds to remember how to use your legs.

“You okay?” You nodded at him and gave a shaky, but okay smile. “You sure you wanna do another one? Cause we can go-”

“No, no, I can do…” The carnival really did have more rides than just ones that wanted to make you die, but none that really made you want to jump on them. “Can we do the carousel? I know I can do that one at least, my mom took me on them enough as a kid to be desensitized to those ones.” Steve looked over and saw the carousel that was filled predominately by smaller children, but if you wanted to do this and it was because he bought the tickets, he couldn’t make her do something else.

“If that’s what you wanna do, then we can do the carousel all night long, babe.” You nodded at him and followed him as he took your hand and the two began the walk to the carousel.

The carousel ride was much less curse filled, thankfully. You and Steve had found a pair of horses sitting side by side and the two of you quickly claimed them. Like you had said, you did get to enjoy this ride due to having done it before and you were able to just chat between the two of you, talking about how the kids were cute, how excited you were to take the kids to the park and not have to rides. It was a fine ride, definitely better than the last one.

“You ready to go home, babe?” Steve turned to you with a smile on his face. Getting you to ride two of the rides was honestly enough for him, plus, he knew Dustin would ride all of them with him later, with you waiting at the end for him.

You were about to agree and leave this eventful evening behind you, but you saw what Steve was standing near and bit your lip. Should you do it? Could you do it? “Actually, I wanna do one more.” He gave a quick quirk of his head before he followed your eyeline and turned around.

“What? Babe, we don’t have to do that, you have been through enough today and you were great, you don’t have to prove anything.”

“But...you have been wanting to do it, you told me about it one time.” You responded a little shyly as you confessed that you were doing it back of what he told you that one time. “I just...I really want you to be able to do it.”

“You...you remembered?” Steve was kind of shocked that you remembered him mentioning it, he had told that to girls in the past, but none of them really went out of their way to think about it, hell, even to remember it. “Are you su-”

“Steve, yes, I wanna do it with you.” The grin on his face was immaculate and contagious as one grew on your face as he quickly took this well and pulled you towards the line to the Ferris Wheel and dug around in his pockets for another round of tickets.

As it went around, you felt your stomach grow heavy again when you finally saw how high it got and had to calm yourself down without causing another scene. “Come on, babe, looks like ours is up.” He gently tugged on your hand and pulled you into the seat next to him before the handlebar was lowered and locked in front of you. “And here we go!”

The squeak that left your mouth was nothing but surprise and terror as you clung onto the bar for your life, your knuckles turning white with the sheer force you were holding on. “It’s really stupid you know that the only thing holding us back from falling to our death is this small bar and it’s really stupid because was if I was reall-holy shit this is really tall!” You finally removed your hands from the bar and moved to press yourself in Steve.

You could feel him trying to stop himself from giggling as he moved his arm to wrap it around you. “You can laugh you know; I really don’t care. I’m the coward of an almost twenty-year-old who’s scared of a carnival.” A chuckle did come through as the ride kept rotating and you slowly moved closer to the bottom.

“I’m not laughing at you, babe, but the noises you are making are fricking hilarious.” His voice still held the chuckle as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, and you responded with another squeak of shock as you started rising again.

Making it to the top again, you were waiting for it to hit its peak and for the relief of lowering the cart to begin, but instead there was a shudder before the ride stopped. “What’s going on, what’s going on, why are we stopped? Oh god we are about to die, fuck, shit, I don’t wanna die.”

“Babe, calm down, someone below us is getting off so they had to stop the ride for a bit. Remember when we had to get on? Same thing probably happened to someone else.” You nodded your head and just stared ahead to the tops of the trees you never thought you would have seen.

“It’s...it’s not too bad up here.” You finally mutter after a few beats of silence and getting your bearings. “I wouldn’t want to stay up here, but it does look nice.” Steve hummed in agreement and pulled you a little closer. “Hey Stevie?”

“Hmm?” He responded looking down at you.

“Thanks, tonight was fun.”

His face broke out into a grin again at your thanks. “Of course, thanks for giving a few of these rides a chance.” Smiling up at him, you sat a little straighter and caught his lips with your own, the two of you humming to the other that you were happy with your evening.

Though it was not as long as Steve would have wanted to stay in that moment with you (the ride started again and you broke away with another shriek), but he wouldn’t have traded that moment for anything else in his life.

[kpopinesss]

[ateez] S A N ➱ baby daddy au

YOU HAVE TO RAISE HIS SON AFTER HE LEAVES. MAFIA SAN.

warnings: teen pregnancy

a/n: sorry ya’ll I accidentally posted this on my main lol - @atinybitofau

• raising a son on your own was hard.

• raising a son whose genes were on par to his notorious father was even harder—

• a hooligan. a mischievous troublemaker.

• an eyesore in morality.

• and yes, your son was just like him.

• cold. ruthless. blood thirsty.

• but unlike San, your son loved you enough never to leave you.

• appreciated the things you did for him enough to stay.

• “Eomma..”

• you turn on your side when your son interrupts your slumber,

• injuries blatant on his tethered arm.

• raising a child who’s now 13 since you were 16 never easy.

• “Where were you, Ari?”

• he sits at the edge of your bed and leans for the warmth only a mother could give. “I was trying to get your medicine.. but I ended up causing a scene and the store owner kicked me out.”

• you sigh letting him lay down beside you. “It’s just a little cold. You don’t need to go and risk your life to save mine.”

• he wants to ask you.

• he’s old enough..

• why hasn’t his father came back to be the one the take care of you?

• to take care of him.

• why do you have to suffer alone?

• “Ari, just do me a favor and take care of yourself the way you do for me.” you cuddle into your sons warmth too. “That’s all I need.”

• but you’re lying.

• you’re getting sicker.

• and he can’t take it anymore.

• he goes to lower than the low to find something to save you, his mother.

• eventually ending up tied up in San’s gang house.

• brutally beat for intervening a drug heist—

• “Alright you little shit,” San holds your son up by the collar, blood running down his face mixed with his tears. “I don’t care that you’re 13 years old. Hell you could’ve been 10 and I’ll still beat the living crap out of you. No one just comes barging into a drug heist for no reason. That’s not just a coincidence.”

• it is.

• it really is.

• and maybe god was just giving him a sign.

• because you were on the verge of dying—

• and his own son being dealt his life and in the hands of his own father,

• yet San still didn’t know what was going on.

• what sign god was trying to give him.

• “I have to admit.” San runs a finger down his son’s chiseled jaw and smirks. “You’ve got a nice face. But in a couple minutes, you might not even be able to recognize it anymore.”

• “I-I-I was just trying to get medicine for my mom! I swear.”

• San really needed to get a clue.

• not all drugs were recreational.

• and some—

• some can actually save lives not just make dirty money.

• “You think I’ll believe that sissy crap?”

• Ari shudders looking to his torn up jeans. “H-her pictures in my wallet. I swear, she’s the only thing I’ll do anything illegal for. I promise I wasn’t trying to fuck anything up. She’d kill me if I got involved. Kill herself if I pushed myself too far.”

• he’s convinced at the desperation in the poor kid’s voice.

• normally not as merciful but he digs through the kid’s pocket for the picture anyway.

• and he should be glad he did because shit—

• the picture of you made him go from 100 to 0 real quick.

• “Y/n?”

• “T-that’s her! That’s my mom.”

• San glances up at the beat up kid, horrified.

• horrified at the sight.

• that he was basically beating to death a walking replica of himself.

• an age far enough that fit the time he left you.

• “You’re telling me my high school sweetheart..” San’s bloody fingers curl around your picture. “The woman you’ve been trying to steal medication for is your mom? The woman in this picture.”

• he’s at first in denial.

• that the kid he almost beat to death was your son.

• but denial hits him even harder the chances he could also be the father.

• “M-my mom is everything to me.” Ari bawls his last tears out begging for his own father to spare his life. or anything to save yours. “She’s only got me. I’ve only got her. S-sir please. At least save her. If you wanna kill me sir, please save my mom first.”

• his jaw clenches,

• still knealt down on one knee propped in front of his pleading son.

• studying every feature of his face.

• how on par everything was to his own.

• San was beating up his son, he realized.

• holy shit he was about to kill his own son.

• “Why didn’t she tell me?”

• “W-what?” his son chokes. “What do you mean?”

• “Fucking hell— kid, I think I’m your dad.”

• the five days that your son was held captive was long enough for your body to grow cold and weaker.

• laying in a hospital bed nearly blacked out.

• your son cries over your body as you sleep.

• hoping he’s not too late.

• not too late to give you the one thing that might be able to keep you alive.

• a husband?

• finally a father to your child.

• “You’re the husband?” the doctor finds San watching from the doorway awkwardly glancing at the black dressed men who towered behind him. “You’ve got quite the entourage there, sir. But not even an army of soldiers would be able to save your wife right now. She’s hanging on a thin line. Barely holding on. That woman needs a miracle if she wants to live the next good years of her life.”

• San watches as his son that he never knew about cries over you.

• wishes you would’ve told him..

• he would’ve stayed.

• would’ve loved you.

• why were you always so selfish? always wanting to do things that pushed you too far even if there were another option available.

• “Eomma.”

• you hear everything.

• your son.

• San.

• “Ma, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get the medicine. I got into trouble again, ma. I’m sorry.” Ari folds his hand over your limp one’s. “B-but I have something even better. Someone who could help you and me. He can take care of us, ma.”

• it hurts.

• you want to wake up for your son because he deserves the world.

• he deserves a fight for the both of you but the option you chose came short.

• in the past, the option of never telling San in the first place of his own son.

• “Ma.. he’s gonna talk to you okay? I’m gonna let him talk to you.” Ari sniffles and suddenly your hand gets replaced with a different warmth. “He’s gonna tell you it’s gonna be okay. I love you, eomma. I love you. We’re gonna be okay.”

• it’s almost enough.

• your heart beats a little faster.

• burns a little more so you could breathe on your own.

• it’s definitely working.

• “You shoulda told me, bubba.”

• the nickname San had given you years ago,

• a nickname you thought you’d never hear again, rings in your ear and that light so far away,

• it gets further.

• “You shoulda told me about him. About you.” he lifts your hand against his trembling lips. “13 years? 13 years after I tell you to take care of yourself and now you’re almost dying. Come on now. My girl was a fighter. Pushed herself harder than she wanted to.”

• his voice is like a mantra—

• a dream that gives you a little bit more of life you we’re starting to lose.

• “Bubba, you were the love of my life. And I didn’t tell you enough how much I appreciated you. I know it may be too late and if god forbid I do lose you, I will make sure our baby stays safe okay?”

• you think if you were awake right now you’d be crying.

• as if a weight lifted off your shoulders.

• cause the one person who could save you right now—you and your son,

• was right here.

• ready to go merciless to keep you two safe.

• “I left loving you. And I’ll come back loving you. 13 years only kept us apart. But let me tell you, y/n, it never stopped me from loving you.”

• he’s unsure when he lets go of your hand.

• usually gets what he wants with one word—

• cause he’s a notorious mobster.

• but let’s just say you were the one thing he wanted he could’ve never gotten even with two words.

• 3?

• “I love you.” he continues. “And if I’m gonna have to love our son the way I should’ve loved you then so be it.”

• but life’s not like movies where you wake up right during a miracle.

• this miracle takes time.

• and after an EXPENSIVE deal of money and medicine to keep you alive,

• a year it takes for you to finally open your eyes.

• to a nice hospital bed room.

• filled with flowers and the reminiscent scent of old spice and San.

• your hair’s a bit longer.

• the sun’s definitely brighter.

• but not as bright as the smile you see once you turn to the side.

• “Good morning beautiful.” San reaches his forehead against yours. “How were your dreams?”

• you choke on a decent reply. “S-San?”

• “The one and only.”

• “Where’s— Where’s Ari? Where’s my—“

• “Our?” San chuckles softly. “You mean our son.”

• you kind of remember.

• it takes a while to remember the voices and the dreams in your head.

• how waking up to find them real was surreal on its own.

• “He’s at school, bubba.” San cradles your face in the palm of his hand staring at you like he was hypnotized. “I’ll have someone pick him up. Tell him mommy’s awake.”

• “San..” you shake your head in his hand. “How is this real?”

• “Our son might be a miracle worker. Brought us together the way we made him. Brought me so I could keep you alive.”

• cheesy as you remember.

• although this handsome and older version of your old flame you aren’t too sure.

• “So you just show up while I’m in a coma and play daddy while I sleep?” you hoarsely chuckle while he smiles against your lips. “Even after 13 years, you won’t grudge against me for not telling you?”

• “I can’t blame you for trying to save yourselves.” he admits with his lips still on yours. “I wasn’t good enough for you. I know still I’m not. But I’m gonna try this time. Even if I have to pretend I’m not who I am sometimes.”

• you two are interrupted by a crying teenager.

• one you remembered resembled San.

• but now them standing right next to each other,

• looking like two carbon copies and a surreal dream in your head.

• maybe you are dead...

• “Ma!” he shoves his father away abruptly. “Look ma! I brought dad! He helped pay your debt, pays for my school. Even finished the hospital bills.”

• you glare at your always boisterous ex boyfriend and long lost father to your son.

• “You did what?”

• “Did I mention this was my way of getting back at you for not telling me about my 14 year old son?”

• “San how the hell am I gonna pay you back?”

• you just woke up.

• and the doctor runs in ready to sedate to keep you stable for at least more than 24 hours.

• but the way San looks at you is enough.

• him being there like your life long medication itself.

• holding your hand while your son holds your other one proposing,

• “Marry me. And we can call it even.”

@atinybitofau

[ficforce]

Benimaru Relationship Alphabet

A- Activity (What is their favourite activity to do with Y/N.) Quiet Reader: Benimaru enjoys napping with his head on her lap, Y/N is good with her hands, if he’s lucky she’ll stop whichever craft she’s doing and massage his scalp. There’s a sunny spot on the porch at the back of the Guardhouse with a mat and a soft cushion laid out, She didn’t like him sleeping on the bare wood and Benimaru didn’t like that she got a sore back - once he was asleep she didn’t like to move in case she woke him up. Loud Reader: Sparring with her is always fun, Y/N practices the same discipline as he does but she started much later in life. She offers him enough of a challenge that he really has to think about his next moves. It usually ends up with them rolling around in the dirt kissing, putting out a fire Y/N accidentally started or deciding to go take a nap. B- Beginnings (How do they act in the beginning of a relationship) Quiet Reader: Y/N is a quiet, almost shy woman, she first spoke to Benimaru when he turned up to put out a fire he had started whilst dealing with an Infernal. He would usually let the regular Hikeshi deal with it but he had literally been above it. She hadn’t realised he was there until after she had taken control of the fire and put it out with ease. Benimaru had been impressed and then he had found some amusement in how she panicked just at the sight of him. Y/N had an interesting heat signature and he had been curious to see her use her ability again - she would be too nervous to show him and either not be able to form a flame or burn him by accident. Her flames were the hottest recorded in Asakusa. At first, he was too gentle with her, treating her like a fragile flower that could wilt at any moment but then he witnessed her get angry once and wasn’t as careful: she was strong. Once he was more like himself she liked him more and was told him so. People find it amusing that he can get rowdy and pick fights whilst Y/N watches from the background with a fond smile on her lips. They compliment each other rather well. Loud Reader: They met during a bar fight. Y/N had started it after a drunk got a little too handsy with her. What started off as a one on one fight had turned into a brawl - once it had gotten out of hand she headed outside and that’s where she found Benimaru. He smiled at her, apparently a side effect of sake, and offered her a cup. He had been amused by the trouble her one uppercut had caused. Then not so amused when they ended up arguing and ended up throwing fireballs at each other. Their relationship could be described as passionate, they were quick to become lovers and slower to get to know each other. Every argument brought them closer and they’re not as explosive as they used to be.

C- Communication (Are they good communicators? How do they normally talk about their problems or solve issues)

Quiet Reader: Benimaru doesn’t like to talk about his feelings, he doesn’t like to share his problems with just anyone and even if he’s just complaining he hates when someone tries to fix his problems for him. Y/N is very good at calming him down and getting him to lower his defences enough to talk to her, she always seems to offer him good advice. Y/N is like an open book, if something is worrying her then she can’t hide it, her face always gives her away. Benimaru doesn’t like to see her upset and will ask her outright, she’ll try to tell him not to worry and that it’s not important but he won’t give up. Benimaru’s usual advice is that he can go and punch the problem - This always makes Y/N smile and she’ll figure out what to do as he hears her out. Loud Reader: She isn’t good at sharing a problem, she either tries to punch it or will let it fester inside, at first it won’t be noticeable but then suddenly she’ll burst and Benimaru struggles to calm her down at first. He’ll feel bad that he didn’t see her suffering sooner and hold her until she’s calm enough to speak to him. She just needs to rant sometimes - she’s not the type to hold onto things. Y/N is very similar to the Quiet Reader in that she’ll hear him out. She’s pretty good at reading his micro-expressions and can tell the difference between a frown and a frown. She’ll bug him until he cracks and tells her what’s going on… her advice isn’t always so good. D- Drunk (What are they like when they’re drunk) Quiet Reader: Y/N is quiet and sweet, she barely ever raises her voice but when she drinks more than one cup of sake - she turns into a different person. She will fight you. This includes Benimaru and after last time Konro keeps a count on her drinks. Loud Reader: She’s a happy drunk. Unless someone starts on her or touches her in the wrong way (If Benimaru doesn’t break their fingers first), then she’ll get rowdy. Y/N will find everything funny and likes to cuddle up to someone, if Konro is there she tends to want to cuddle him more as he’s bigger and easier to fall asleep on. Benimaru gets a little jealous. We all know what Benimaru is like when he drinks. E- Emergency (How are they in emergency situations? Y/N gets hurt, they get hurt, someone is dying etc..) Quiet Reader: Y/N can usually keep a calm head on her shoulders, she’ll help out as much as she can and tends to worry about others before herself. She knows that Benimaru puts himself in danger to protect their Town and it makes her worry but he’s so strong… so, he’ll always come back to her, right? Benimaru is used to chaos and emergencies, it’s in his job description. When it comes to Y/N though, he wants to know where she is, he wants to know her exact location so he can keep danger away from her. If anything happened to her… Loud Reader: She’s the first one to get people moving. Although she’s not an official member of Company 7 she helps out where she can, making sure civilians are out of the way and ready to defend them if needed. Y/N likes to keep tabs on Benimaru - he’s not invincible and he does dumb stuff sometimes. He wishes she wouldn’t linger so close. Benimaru knows she can hold her own and he doesn’t need to worry because she’s a strong fighter. He knows she can take a hit or two but he’ll personally incinerate anyone who hurts her. F- Free Spot (I’ll give you any headcanon I come up with) Quiet Reader: Y/N is a very good crafter, writing, drawing, knitting, sewing, felting and much much more. She can’t cook though. It’s a disaster. She set fire to water and the Guardhouse kitchen was out of commission for three days. Loud Reader: Y/N can form animals with her flames. Serpents and dragons are her main focus but when she tries something else it always looks a little odd and everyone makes fun of them. G- Gifts (What kind of gifts do they give? What kind of gifts do they get?) Quiet Reader: She gives him handmade gifts. In the winter she makes him scarves - even though they don’t need them because they’re both walking furnaces. Benimaru likes that she

sews little emblems into the inside of his coat collar, they’re their little secret. Benimaru will often commission skilled people to make the tools that she needs for her hobbies. Loud Reader: She’s not very creative so most often she’ll buy him food from his favourite vendors. Benimaru enjoys long baths and he has a private one at the Guardhouse big enough for two, she’ll often buy him relaxing salts. Benimaru treats her whenever they’re together, he’s not one for grand gestures but she once got mad because he bought her an expensive bracelet. She loves it but thinks its too much… H- Hugs (How do they show affection/cuddle) Quiet Reader: Y/N loves to hold Benimaru’s hand when they’re out walking, they can be found close together most times and he’s not shy about showing his affection with little gestures. Only if Y/N is comfortable with it - He would hate to embarrass her. Loud Reader: She’s usually holding onto his arm and will nuzzle him in public if he’s not paying attention. They’re both pretty open but they keep it light as they don’t need the whole Town knowing their business. I- Irritation (What is something that irritates them? How do they show their irritation?) Quiet Reader: Y/N has a strong sense of justice, she can’t stand it when someone is getting away with victimising another person. She particularly hates bullies and despite her quiet demeanour will always stand up for others. The air around Y/N gets a huge spike of heat and most people know to get out of the way. The easiest way to tell her mood is by temperature and her inability to hide anything. Loud Reader: She doesn’t have a huge amount of patience for idiots. If someone is being stupid - on purpose - she will have no time for them. Also, people who walk too slow drive her mad. There’s a huge street and you are taking up all the room - move!! She’s pretty straight forward in telling people when they’re annoying her. And if Benimaru ‘Tch’s her one more time… J- Jackpot (How would they spend their winnings if they won the lottery?) Quiet Reader: Y/N would use it for the Town, she’s got all she needs and likes a simple life. There’s a roof over her head, food on the table and she has people she loves - maybe she would splash out a little on a new kimono for the festival? Loud Reader: She’s never really had money and where she grew up in Asakusa was a little rougher. It’s a much better place now but she remembers being unhappy when she was small and there was no neighbourhood watch looking out for the Town - Only selfish gangs. She’d want to set up a place in Town for kids to come to if they needed somewhere safe - God help Benimaru if he hits it with one of his matois. Benimaru has everything he needs and doesn’t care about money. K- Kryptonite (What is their ultimate weakness?) Quiet Reader: Her control over her emotions. Y/N can’t control herself if she gets angry, she loses control of her flames and because they’re hotter than most they consume things faster than the Hikeshi can put them out. She’s terrified of causing that kind of damage again and tries to stay calm. Loud Reader: Y/N might seem rough and ready for a fight but she’ll sacrifice herself without hesitation. She would rather get hurt than allow anyone else to and this is dangerous for Benimaru as not only does it make her potential bait but he wouldn’t cope with her getting hurt badly. Benimaru has so much emotional investment in Y/N (both) that if anything happened to either one of them he would be at a loss. If they died… he can’t even bear to think about it. L- Laughter (What makes them laugh?) Quiet Reader: The twins make her laugh when they’re picking on Benimaru or just plotting their next prank within hearing distance. Konro’s facial expressions when Benimaru is being unreasonable amuse her. Benimaru knows that her neck is ticklish, unless they’re being intimate, and likes to try and press kisses there to watch her squirm and try to wriggle away. Loud Reader: If she’s drunk - everything is funny. She usually laughs the most at meal

times because the Hikeshilike to eat together, it’s noisy but she likes that it feels like a huge family. Making Benimaru laugh is what makes her the happiest, he only does it in front of his closest people. M- Morning ( How do they wake up in the morning? Are they a morning person or a morning grouch?) Quiet Reader: She will stay in bed as long as there’s someone to cuddle up to. Benimaru will sometimes lay awake for a while so that she can keep sleeping as she tends to get up once she’s awake. Y/N is a little drowsy first thing and she’s clumsy but after an hour she’s wide awake and busy with getting the twins hair just right. Loud Reader: She’s a monster. Do not wake her up unless you absolutely have to. Y/N stays up too late and always suffers for it the next morning. Give her her morning beverage and stand clear until she speaks to you first. Benimaru gets up first thing, he doesn’t get a full night’s sleep but he takes catnaps during the day. Morning is the best time to pester him because he’s too dazed to get mad. N- Needy (When do they feel particularly needy? How do they show it?) Quiet Reader:  Y/N tries not to be needy, she tries to get by on her own and not be a burden but she often feels vulnerable when she’s caused trouble, accidentally or by losing control.

Sometimes she’s not sure what’s upset her but she’ll go to Benimaru and simply pinch the bottom of his Banten, holding onto it as a little kid would. It’s enough for Benimaru to know she needs him and he’ll drop what he’s doing to comfort her.

She does the same for him so he really doesn’t mind it.

Loud Reader: She’s not used to having someone who will spoil her. She mostly keeps things hidden but when she’s feeling ill - that’s it. She needs attention and will openly ask for it. This can be something as simple as asking Benimaru to stroke her hair or make her tea. When she inevitably makes him ill she’ll return the favour. O- Oasis (Where is their happy place? Where would they go if they didn’t have anything holding them back?) Quiet Reader: There’s a small clearing by the river that Y/N loves, in the summer it’s shaded by a large tree and it’s far enough away from other things that she hopes it never gets hit by Benimaru’s flames. It’s another place Benimaru likes to take a nap with his head on her lap but it’s where he first kissed her. Loud Reader: Y/N has never been outside of Asakusa. One day she would like to see what’s beyond the gates and experience what a City is like. She’s a proto-nationalist so she doesn’t care too much for their views or customs but even if it were to go and see Company 8’s dump - she’d like to go. P- Pain (How do they handle pain? How do they handle when Y/N are in pain?) Quiet Reader: She’s not a person who complains so if she says something hurts then Benimaru knows it’s serious. She slipped in the snow one year and hurt her ankle. At first, she tried to brush it off and limp home but after only a few steps she fell. One of Company 7 had been passing at the time and carried her home, when Benimaru saw her he took her from the other man and pressed a kiss to her temple - he could see she was holding back tears and it broke his heart. Benimaru called a doctor and made sure that she got plenty of rest, he sat her down on his lap and held her until the painkillers made her fall asleep. Loud Reader: Benimaru gets mad at Y/N because she’ll ignore the pain until she physically can’t take it anymore. He’s known her to ignore broken ribs before and it wasn’t until he hugged her that she nearly collapsed in agony. He’s sweet to her once she admits she’s hurting, it’s similar to when she’s sick and needy - she just wants him to fuss over her and stay close. Q- Quote (What’s a quote that fits them and your relationship) Quiet Reader: Just because you took longer than others doesn’t mean you failed. Remember that. - Unknown Loud Reader: I care. I always care. That is my problem. - Unknown R- Reunion (How do they celebrate seeing Y/N after a long time of being apart) Benimaru is going to shower them with affection and take them to bed. The first orgasm is going to be from a slow, intimate love making. After that - well, whatever they like. You will not see either of them until the next day. S- Stress (What stresses them out? How do deal with stress and how do they relieve it?) Quiet Reader: She doesn’t get stressed too easily but if people are getting hurt or if she feels like she is failing at something she gets stressed out. Y/N’s first reaction when she feels like this is to start crying over the dumbest little thing and try to hide somewhere she can try to calm down. Once she’s taken a moment to evaluate everything she puts on her brave face and gets back to it. If Benimaru is around he’ll wait for her outside the room, he doesn’t want to crowd her or make her feel like she can’t cope without him. Loud Reader: Because she lets things build up over time, Y/N can become stressed very quickly and this usually ends up in what seems like a tantrum. She’ll go out to practice her fighting and if she’s lucky Benimaru will join her. Once all that pent up stress is gone she’ll be back to normal… if just a little bit moody. T- Terror (What are they afraid of?) Quiet Reader: As mentioned before, Y/N can’t control her ability if she gets angry. It’s only anger that blinds her with rage and she’s terrified that one day she’ll kill someone by accident. She’s terrified that it’ll be Benimaru because she’s burned him before. Loud Reader: Y/N likes to think that nothing scares her and spent her life trying not to be scared of anything. But sometimes, after an

argument with Benimaru, she’s terrified he might not come back after they’ve walked away from each other. Of course, he always comes back first. U- Unique (What is a quirk that is unique to them?) Quiet Reader: She can only produce blue flames and they’re the hottest recorded. Loud Reader: She can eat six takoyaki balls in under one minute - freshly made. It’s her best party trick. V- Violence (Do they fight a lot? Are they a good fighter? What is their fighting style?) Quiet Reader: Y/N doesn’t like to fight and doesn’t know how. Benimaru and Konro have tried to teach her some basic defence moves but that’s about as much as she’s done. If push ever came to shove she could just superheat the air around her to make it impossible to get close. Loud Reader: She’s not a violent person but she loves to fight. Her style is the same as Benimaru’s but she’s a few years behind so isn’t as good as him yet. Her advantage over him is her strategic mind. Y/N is vulnerable to body blows and once she goes down she struggles to get her advantage back. W- Wow (What does Y/N do that really surprises them? What do they do that Y/N really likes?) Quiet Reader: The first time Y/N stood up to a guy twice her size and demanded he apologise and pay the storekeeper they had just stolen from, Benimaru had been taken aback. The quiet, shy girl he was so careful around had an aura so dangerous that even he had to think about whether he wanted to even approach. The man had laughed at her and made to leave - luckily he had been a third-generation and only his clothes were burnt to a crisp. Benimaru wasn’t so careful with her from then on. Y/N was surprised by how gentle Benimaru was when they were alone. He’s very soft and childlike… unless he’s after something a little more grown-up. Loud Reader: Benimaru hadn’t thought someone as boisterous as Y/N would like children. She adores them, she always has time for kids and gets especially soft around babies. Y/N doesn’t just like them but she’s very good with little kids and he’s surprised how motherly she is. Y/N really likes when Benimaru feels her looking at her and instead of asking what she wants, he gives her a gentle smile. It always makes her feel happy. X- (Explicit headcanon. For all you degenerates) Quiet Reader: Y/N is shy when it comes to sex but she’s not inexperienced. Benimaru was a little too gentle with her the first few times - which was mind-blowing and completely satisfying but she really wanted to see him lose his cool. Y/N got so frustrated that she pushed him onto the futon and ravaged him. After that, Benimaru does what he likes providing it doesn’t hurt her and they both get off on it. Technically Benimaru initiates sex but Y/N will drop some pretty heavy hints that she wants him. Loud Reader: The first few times they were rough with each other and that was enough to keep them coming back to each other. But as they got to know each other Benimaru became a little slower, a little gentler and it really threw her off. Eventually, she told Benimaru that it made her uncomfortable and he found out that her previous boyfriends had been pretty selfish. They didn’t always satisfy her or make her feel loved. It took some effort and patience but now she knows that sex can be good at any pace. Y- Yucky (Is there something that grosses them out so badly that they can’t deal with it?) They’re both pretty good with most things, plenty grosses them out but nothing that they just simply wouldn’t be able to stand. Z- ZZZ’s (What are their sleeping habits? Both with and without Y/N) Quiet Reader: Y/N is usually in bed by midnight, if she’s out at a festival or the bar with Benimaru then two in the morning seems to be her limit - after that, she’ll sleep anywhere. Before bed she likes to take a bath and have something warm to drink, she’ll do a little reading or speak with the others before heading to bed. If Benimaru is home he’ll usually follow her timing or join her an hour later. They spoon. Y/N fits so well against him and they usually fall asleep

whilst talking about little things - always with their fingers entwined. If Benimaru is out patrolling then she’ll steal his pillow to cuddle. Loud Reader: She’ll often be awake until three in the morning, she struggles to sleep normal hours because she sleeps in so late. Y/N has tried to go to sleep earlier but really struggles. She’ll brush her teeth, brush her hair and grab a drink before heading to bed as she prefers to wash in the mornings/whenever she gets up. If Benimaru isn’t home then she’ll keep herself busy until she finally falls asleep, she takes up most of the futon and Benimaru has a hell of a time getting in with her when he gets back. When he is there, he’s usually fallen asleep before her. Benimaru tends to sleep on his side with his arm over her middle and his face nestled into her neck whilst she’s on her back. Sometimes being unable to sleep gives her the rare opportunity to fall in love with Benimaru’s sleeping face. He’s rather beautiful when he’s not sulking.

[bigskydreaming]

Sorry to bother you, but RE: the Jason Todd in Arkham thing, like, what was Dick supposed to do? Take him home to the same house where two of the KIDS that Jason had threatened/attacked were supposed to be living in what one hoped would be relative safety?

Like, full offence, Jason had at that point proven himself a danger to all the people around him. If he wound up at Arkham, oh well, maybe don’t kill a whole bunch of ppl and harm numerous others. If Arkham doesn’t work as a hospital, maybe he should have been at another one, but at that point in his character arc, a secure mental health facility was probably the best he could expect.

It’s like ppl forget he’s a multiple murderer with a history of targeting the ppl Dick loves. I don’t even read the comics and I know this much.

Oh for sure, I mean, I've posted meta about this before because the fandom accepted narrative gets it sooooooo wrong. Like, I'll always be right at the front of the line yelling IT WAS JASON'S CHARACTERIZATION THAT WAS CRAP THROUGH ALL THAT, THAT'S NOT JASON, GIMME NUANCE OR GIMME DEATH. Y'know, something like that.

But like, given that Jason was written as repeatedly trying to kill Dick's other two brothers its like, yeah?! What was Dick supposed to do? He'd tried asking Jason nicely hey could you stop doing that and Jason was like LOL no.

And also....people are like - Dick callously threw Jason into Arkham right next to the Joker and then just left him there and forgot about him and....SOURCE?

1) Dick didn't DO this to Jason, JASON went after Dick and Damian and in the process of fighting him in a very public space, Dick beat Jason and police were already like....right there? Dick didn't actually have the option of being uh no, you can't take this known and notorious criminal into custody, I'll stop you on the basis of - well I can't tell you actually but plz just trust me okay, he totes didn't mean it! (except like also, at that point he totes did, so.....)

2) What pull Dick DID have as Batman with the GCPD, he used to get Jason put into Arkham INSTEAD of Blackgate for his SAFETY. We know this to be true. Jason himself confirmed that absolutely nothing bad happened to him in Arkham, he just didn't want to be there but WHO THE HELL EVER WANTS TO BE IN A PRISON OF ANY SORT? And the first thing Dick said when Bruce said Jason had demanded to be transferred to Blackgate is that Jason wouldn't be safe there with all the enemies he had gunning for him. It was abundantly clear that Jason's safety had been a primary concern for Dick the whole time (and Jason wasn't safe at Blackgate, its just fine, he only wanted to be transferred in order to enact an escape plan that got like 80 people indiscriminately killed but whatevs. Its Gotham, what's a few dozen more dead criminals am I right? *rolls eyes at how often that little detail gets left out of the narrative).

3) Dick consistently put time, focus and Wayne Enterprises money into Arkham Asylum while he was Batman, since Arkham was being rebuilt from the ground up after it was blown up in Battle for the Cowl. Also, Dick had been one of the last 'patients' in the old Arkham, given that he went undercover to infiltrate the Black Glove while they were in control of Arkham and spent a week in there drugged to the gills, locked up and in a straitjacket before being almost lobotomized. He has every grievance with Arkham that fan writers like to PRETEND Jason has from his stay there, but Jason's only complaint was that he again, was bored, and he had to take psych evals every other week because it was after all, still a mental health institution. Dick did everything in his power at the time to make sure that even if Jason did have to be locked up to keep him from going after more people, like, it was going to be as humane as possible and the stuff that Dick himself had JUST experienced in the old Arkham WOULDN'T happen to Jason.

4) The Joker was literally nowhere near Arkham THE ENTIRE TIME. This is not a small detail, given that 'the Joker was just five cells down' is the entire basis of most writers' Jason-in-Arkham angst and the anti-Dick sentiments they tend to create. All the major Rogues escaped from the old Arkham in Battle for the Cowl BEFORE it blew up. That's why they're not DEAD. Dick's run as Batman was primarily about fighting the escapees. And Joker, very significantly, was clearly among those Rogues not present in Arkham during Dick's Batman run, given he was literally toying with Dick and Damian through most of it. Seriously, how much do people have to hate Dick and think the worst of him to think that he - the dude who btw, BEAT THE JOKER TO DEATH WITH HIS BARE HANDS FOR MAKING JOKES ABOUT KILLING JASON - would just....obliviously lock Jason up right next to the Joker and throw away the key?

Like...and it goes on and on, lol. I remember the first time I brought all this up in an argument with some Jason stans, they literally started laughing back and forth to each other in the replies about how someone was a bit too carried away with their own fanon, and its like...LMAO! Yes! Someone is! Its YOU! You are the people you guys are talking about, looooool, I can literally back all this up with sourced panels.

Buuuuuuut, c'est la vie.

I mean, this is nothing new for us, its literally Teen Wolf fandom alllll over again. Probably why I just said nope, not doing this again awhile back and was like umm actually I will NOT just be ignoring the blatant false narratives thrown around here just so that people happy with the fanon narratives that prioritize the characters they like and sling shit at the characters they don't can have their fandom just the way they want it at the expense of everyone else in it. You wanna push bad faith interpretations of specific characters at every literal opportunity, its like, that's cool! I got the drive! I can push back with actual facts, its all good!

But the most hilarious thing to me will always be how fucking INDIGNANT people get about that, like "How dare you point out the precedent we established in not caring about any fandom experience other than our own and thus being loud and everpresent with our preferred interpretations in an attempt to drown out any other possible interpretation just so that the most people possible would be influenced by us instead of anything else, and we'd get more of the content we like at the expense of any possible nuance whatsoever."

Like, the most common complaint I get is people griping about how damn often I'm saying "mmmm, no, this isn't what happened actually" and "okay but have you considered flipping the script BACK from the way you flipped it initially in order to get this weird ass interpretation of a superhero noted for his emphasis on emotional caretaking of his loved ones actually being this callous oblivious selfish jerk who tramples all over the feelings of everyone around them and makes them just the woobiest woobies that ever did woobie all throughout Woobieland?"

And I'm just like, okay see, I hear you, its just the thing is, the THING IS......

If you didn't want that to be the topic of conversation so damn often, then hey, just a suggesh, but maybe you shouldn't have devoted literal years to coming up with the most bad faith interpretations of this character possible at literally every available opportunity. Maybe there'd be like.....less reason for the topic to come up so often, if like....you by your own actions hadn't made it a necessary topic to tackle so often?

I DON'T KNOW, I'M JUST SPIT-BALLING HERE, DON'T MIND ME AND MY CRAZY-ASS IDEAS OF FAIR PLAY.

[atopearth]

Collar X Malice: Unlimited Part 7 - Adonis Route

Honestly, I find the way Ichika joined Zero's side to be pretty iffy even back then in the original game, so I kinda hoped something like Kazuki dying would have changed here but I guess not.. I feel sorry for Kazuki that they reconciled but she still ended up joining Adonis alongside Akito, it must be a pretty big shock having to deal with that. (EDIT: guess he is gone..) Ichika being at the top and training people in marksmanship and stuff is very interesting lol. She looks all right with short hair but yeah, I agree with Zero, I liked the long hair more. Anyway, Zero wants her to find out if there's a traitor amongst them before the next X-Day (since the one 2 years ago failed) in 30 days. Anyway, it seems like you go through each of the Adonis' executors' stories so that's interesting. I'm just going to go from the ones I least like to the ones I like the most haha, and then leave Mikuni for last I guess. Well, Hana's story first then~

Kobayashi Hana

I guess Hana is as bright as ever. I quite enjoy seeing her try and dress Ichika up and make her cuter lol. On the other hand, seeing her mercilessly cut through that panda cake was pretty hilarious. One thing I enjoyed insight into was hearing that Hana has been avoiding going to Isshiki's concerts to avoid causing any trouble to them with the police just in case they come to crash it because of her or something. Honestly, I was pretty impressed. Like, she's always been pretty selfish, and she's always prioritised her love for Isshiki above everything, but to see that she could stop herself to protect him was nice in its own way. Even though she's a pretty ruthless killer, and even though she's obsessed with Isshiki, I guess she does think things through a bit so that Isshiki won't ever have to suffer because of her. Hmm Ichika seemed to reminisce about Kazuki, does that mean he died? Anyway, these investigations are short? Are they really just segments of story for Ichika to become friends with each person? Lol. I mean, Ichika literally did nothing but talk about random stuff with Hana lol. I actually find it rather endearing that Hana and Ichika can fight so openly about their feelings and understand that they actually do want the best for each other, it's kinda nice how they became good friends under such circumstances.

Soda Manabu

Honestly, I kinda wish we could just pick one character and continue until the investigation completes because it's sooo annoying having to press on each one like 7 times just to get a couple of lines of story each time Zzz. Anyway, gotta admit Ichika is pretty judgmental towards Soda, and actively tries to "fix" him and thinks what he does is "wrong", which is pretty annoying tbh. Just because she doesn't understand games, she thinks it's useless to Adonis, and then judges him for his eating habits? Lol. Anyway, at least she tried playing his game though lol, and even got lessons from him haha. I see, I can understand why Ichika would go to Zero for "revenge" but not sure about the "sadness" thing if that's what she's going for tbh. Losing Yanagi, Enomoto, Shiraishi, Okazaki and Kazuki is a big hit and I can understand it shattering her world, but going to Adonis is basically breeding everything that killed everyone important to her. Anyway, Sasazuka's pained voice telling Ichika not to go to Adonis really hurt. I'm sure he's really hurting over the fact he didn't notice the weapons that ended up killing everyone, alongside survivor's guilt of being the only one who survived out of the group, and then now not even being able to stop Ichika from going over to the other side.. It's painful to see. Anyway, lmao, Soda is probably a tamer little brother than Kazuki. His words are harsh but you can tell he only talks like that to protect himself, so any time he swears, I don't bother taking him seriously, he's a hurt little kid. It's cute how Ichika mixed his hated eggplants into the gratin and he didn't even notice, but he ate the whole thing happily🤣 He's so adorable lmao, especially when his face went red and he told her he'd eat her stuff again (even though she shouldn't hear it), and then he ran off🤣

It seems like Soda regrets his actions much more than I initially thought. He was able to get revenge, but now he's even more scared of death because of what he had done, and now he's just in this never-ending cycle of fear, needing to have Zero's power to protect himself, doing his bidding so that he won't die, but at the same time being so scared of his life that the only time he probably feels "safe" is when he plays his games. I love how happy he was when Ichika gave him a SS tier rare item and he put it on, locked it and kept it in a special box🤣 That's so cuteee. Definitely enjoyed Soda's mini part more than I thought hahaha, he's such a cute little kid, which makes it kinda sad lol. Soda blowing up and getting mad at Ichika for playing solo and saying she didn't need connections when she made him realise he wanted to start building connections because of her was really...heartwarming. Soda gave up on people and a lot of things thinking that he could never have them because that's how it was considering how people are, but he changed his mind after Ichika so insistently barged into his life, and now to say that it's practically useless would be extremely hurtful to him. I was really impressed with Soda, and I'm happy that he even told Ichika that she can rely on him more, he's such a sweet boy🥲

Uno Suzune

Lmaooo poor Shion, the woes of a big brother. I found it hilarious how Suzune would give him the green peas she doesn't like even though Shion hates them too, definitely something siblings would do🥲 I superrrr agree with Suzune about handwriting diaries instead of writing a blog! I mean, I have both obviously, but I definitely have different feelings when I read my blog and when I read my writing in my diary. Through my blog, I can easily read my exact thoughts and get to the gist of what I'm talking about, but with my diary, I can see stuff like when I started getting tired of writing, when I felt like changing my pen, and a lot of other feelings that can't be seen or portrayed properly in a typed blog, and yes, the memories of me writing all this usually comes back better when I've written it, mainly because I either say it in the entry or because I can actually remember sitting there and putting time into writing about my life/day.

Guess Suzune's pretty yandere for her brother if any kind of possible romantic interest from Ichika gets her other self to come out and threaten her about it lol. Anyway, it's cute how she’s starting to kinda think of Ichika as a big sister. Suzune willingly taking Ichika to Shion and calling Ichika Chi-chan is probably the biggest improvement you can get considering she could stab you as the worst case hahha. Well, Suzune was definitely cuter than I thought and seeing her so vulnerable, shy but wanting to protect Shion and getting out of her shell for him was sweet. Are there endings for each executor? Well, anyway, Suzune saying she would be sad if anything happened to Ichika was really sweet.

Sugawara Rika

Lmao, I forgot Sugawara is obsessed with Zero, this is going to be fun I guess. It's kinda funny that getting a 50,000 yen strawberry entices her lol, I'm surprised Zero approved it as an expense, like dang, can I have one too, I'm curious lol. Lmao when Sugawara wanted to keep the strawberries as a memento instead of eating it😂 She should have been convinced when Ichika said it'll become a part of her hahahah. LOL when Sugawara started lecturing Ichika about dressing better in front of Zero, and then tried to get her makeup to make her look better, but then Ichika runs away😂

Okay, I loved the girls dress up night with Hana, Ichika and Sugawara. It was so funny how they started arguing about what Ichika should wear and then became fast enough friends to recommend each other stuff and then wear it for fun. I loveee that they had a CG for their new outfits because they're all so pretty, I love them! I think Hana's is my favourite because it's so simple but cute in a different way from her usual. I guess it's kinda cute how in Hana's investigation, Hana focuses on Ichika's clothing fashion, but Sugawara takes it further or I guess mainly focuses on skincare, makeup and haircare haha. I guess it's nice that Sugawara is definitely much more open about standing up for herself and other women when it comes to men who try to objectify them or think of them as "lesser". She's become stronger. I think it's kinda sad to see that amongst all the other happy mini endings with the other executors, Rika's one with Ichika is actually pretty sad because it was through them bonding that Rika noticed Ichika's true intentions of revenge, and that's why they can never truly see eye-to-eye and be friends.

Ogata Tomoki

I guess I didn't expect Ogata to be the type to go to batting cages, but I even more didn't expect him to reserve sweets to make sure he can get them hahaha! It's nice that he enjoys wagashi though, I definitely should have tried it when I went to Japan, but I completely forgot😭 Aww, Ogata had such a sweet daughter! Whenever his wife wasn't looking, she would eat his hated tomatoes for him! Such a kind kid😭 I've never heard of monaka before, so I googled it and they look nice!! Kinda like an ice cream sandwich but not with ice cream and has red bean paste and other stuff inside I guess? I would totally eat it. Lmaoo at Ichika's impression of the typical salaryman😂😂 It's true though, I can't imagine Ogata going home to watch comedy shows with a beer in his hand🤣 Aww it was so cute how Ogata did an impersonation of a character in a drama because he got so used to doing it for his daughter. But lmao at Ichika though, telling him what he can improve on since Adonis might have end of the year parties he could use it for, imagine a bunch of terrorists partying for something so normal like the end of the year hahah😂😂

It's actually really sad how Ogata feels like he can't be a father anymore because he knows that he prioritises his current ideals and dreams more than his daughter. And I guess considering how long they've been separated and how much he has changed, it would probably feel awkward to try and be a normal father, but I guess at least through Ichika's encouragement, he's willing to try and reply to his daughter's letter of wanting to meet him. I think the reason why I've always liked Ogata is because he doesn't regret his actions. Like, he knows that he's killed people and that's why he doesn't want to see his family and get them involved with what he's doing right now, because he knows the gravity of his actions. But at the same time, his hatred for Fujii, the police and the whole mistaken arrest that led to such injustice for him and changed his whole perspective on life is something he can't let go of, and that's why it led him to Adonis and to fulfill his "new" ideals. He knows it's a path that will not necessarily have a "good ending" but he's willing to sacrifice everything for it, and I think that's what makes me attracted to his character. Anyway, LMAO at how insistent Ichika was on seeing young Ogata with a buzzcut playing baseball, absolutely hilarious when she was ready to tie him up with a rope and search his room😂😂 It's pretty sad to see that Ogata wanted to be like Isshiki and save people with his justice without faltering in this cruel world but he just wasn't able to do it because hatred was what fuelled him to move forward and not forgiveness or hope. But I'm glad he encouraged Ichika to listen to Isshiki's song and hear Kazuki's guitar, because seeing Ichika show her emotions again, even if just a little bit was nice...

Uno Shion

Aww, it's cute how much Shion cares about Suzune, but also so cute how he's embarrassed to say he likes chocolate🤣 It's nice that he's more cooperative than Suzune I guess hahaha. I never expected Shion to like to paint though, that's interesting. Anyway, it's pretty sad to think that the "outside world" was much more unforgiving to the Uno siblings, and that it was only after they joined this terrorist organisation did they get to feel safe and secure that they have shelter and food without people going crazy on them. In that sense, it's understandable how much more comfortable Adonis would be for them. Aww Shion and Suzune getting excited over a chocolate cake is so adorable. Them saving up to buy a home for themselves is so heartwarming, it makes me really want to cheer for them. I'm dying from how cute they are trying to feed Ichika the chocolate cake too because they really like her and think she's really kind like their mother was before. Shion buying a cheese tart for both Ichika and Suzune was sweet, she's like a part of his thought process when buying stuff for his sister hahaha. Lol when he just shoved it into her mouth instead of giving it to her like a normal person🤣 Lmaoo when Shion drew a portrait of Ichika stuffing herself with cheese tart🤣 To think that Shion was so serious about drawing that he's actually thinking about a future with it after the X-Day stuff..it’s so endearing.

Sera Akito

It must be difficult for both Akito and Ichika to talk to each other. Just seeing each other's faces would make them remember the past and compare it to the present, making their whole encounter just...painful to watch. It's so like Akito to hide that he dislikes shiitake mushrooms so that it wouldn't inconvenience Ichika and make her remove it from the cooking menu. Lmaooo at Akito being so scared of bugs, enough that Ichika has to call cockroaches dark fairies to make him feel more at ease🤣 I'm sure Akito must be hurting too, but his consideration for Ichika above himself really makes my heart feel so warm. Awww, my heart swooned when Akito said his ideal type was Ichika! If only there was an Akito route~ Anyway, I didn't expect Akito and Soda to really interact but lmaoo at Soda having spent millions of yen on in-game stuff, Soda is right though, gacha rates are cruel😭😭 Aww, it was so cute how honest Soda was about wanting to have defeated the boss with Akito instead of dumping him and killing it himself, since what Soda values is playing together with other people. So, Kazuki was stabbed by a guy who was influenced by Adonis into taking revenge against his bullies or something, and I guess Kazuki was killed when he tried to step in? Honestly, I feel terrible for Akito. He was already feeling doubts and guilt over getting revenge for his sister, but after experiencing Kazuki's death, he must hate his choice for joining Adonis even more than before. It honestly broke my heart to see Akito break down like that not knowing how he could atone for his sins in causing Kazuki's death. His heartwrenching screams really cut me and made me tear up from all the pain Akito must have been bottling up all this time. Akito will always be my favourite side character, I think his pain, his feelings and his emotions were portrayed so well.

Sanjo Keisuke

Aww, Sanjo's favourite food being ramen is very him, kinda hahaha. I can't imagine a 7kg bowl of ramen and having to finish that in 30 minutes😱 On the other hand, Sanjo being into arcades is kinda unexpected, lmaooo at Ichika thinking he would play the crane games😂 I didn't think about the fact that Ichika is a former cop just like him now, I wonder how he feels about that or whether he even cares😅 Lmao at Sanjo seriously answering Ichika what his type of woman is and then even describing the body shape with sound effects😂 I can't believe Ichika just tickled Sanjo and made him laugh like crazy, I would have liked to see that😆😆 I think it would have been so nice if Ogata was Sanjo's boss, I feel like their values and ideals of justice back in the day would have matched well since Sanjo probably desired something "pure" back in the day and hoped to be a part of an organisation that helped people, and Ogata was always helping people already, so they would have worked well together. It's just sad that they both got betrayed by their ideals of what the police should have been to them and others.

 The idea that you can't feel any fear because you don't value your life is a pretty interesting and saddening thought. Maybe because I get that feeling sometimes. I agree with Sanjo, Zero definitely doesn't truly care about those ideals of saving the weak that he keeps spouting, he's not like Mikuni, and that's also imo the reason why Zero believes that he and Mikuni will never truly understand each other. Ichika and Sanjo eating ramen together is so cute lol.

Mikuni Rei

Lmao at Zero calling Mikuni an old man for liking fish, disliking carbonated drinks and other junk food because they're not nutritional hahaha. Otherwise, nothing much to say tbh, Mikuni has always been a rather bland character to me? I like him, but at the same time I don't because even though it's interesting to see that he actually has "noble" goals compared to Zero, the fact is that Mikuni as he himself said has been told that he's a "saviour" of sorts, and I think that really exemplifies the type of person Mikuni is. Someone who believes that he can and wants to "save" people in his own way as if he is someone above them all, but at the same time, he is very apparently flawed exactly because he is like that. He's not someone who truly understands the people "below" him and he also doesn't seem to perceive that as something that can be helped, and that's why even though his goals are "noble", he's not really noble at all. But it doesn't really change the fact that Mikuni is kind in his own way though. Mikuni eating shrimp crackers is so cute😂

Saeki Yuzuru

To be honest, I've always liked the chill policeman Saeki, and I personally think Zero likes that version of himself too. I feel like he always enjoyed just talking about stuff with Ichika during their drinking charades, and had fun visiting her. But at the same time, I feel like because of the existence of Adonis and Mikuni, Zero never really allowed his negative emotions to be "accepted" in order for him to move on, so instead it just continued piling up inside to the point of indifference towards the world and others imo. Anyway, it's sad, seeing Zero and Mikuni happily play chess together. They really look like two brothers just having fun in their own way. Hearing them say that they've been doing this since they were kids makes it all the more saddening when they realised that despite how "close" they were to each other, they never really understood each other. In a sense, I feel like in the end, both Mikuni and Zero use Adonis as a way to get the things they want and feel like it's one of the only ways they can do it? I mean, I do feel like Mikuni treasures his relationship with Zero more than Adonis or anything else, because when it comes down to it, I feel like he tries really hard to understand Zero by trying to see things from his perspective and hanging out with Ichika, the one that Zero thinks understands him best and the one Zero likes the most. On the other hand, Zero seems to use Adonis as a way for revenge of his mother and as a way to vent those emotions and scars he got, but at the same time Adonis also granted him Mikuni (a brother), and it gave him opportunities and power.

Zero definitely loves Ichika in an obsessed way, probably the only way he thinks he can love someone, since he doesn't want to become "weak" like his mother was. So if he felt anything like love, he would prefer it to be a love that would destroy him, because in a sense I think I can understand that sentiment of wanting the person you love to solely focus on yourself and no one else, whether that is hatred or whatever emotion doesn't matter, because being the entire focus of someone else's is a sort of "love" to enjoy, so I don't blame Zero for his twisted "love" lol. Especially since you can tell how much he has always enjoyed his after work beers and just chatting with Ichika. I quite enjoyed their little date walking around reminiscing the past and discovering new things they missed out on, now I really want to eat crepes🥲 The ending where Ichika kills Saeki is pretty sad though. Seeing Saeki the most relieved and happy he has ever been is probably what made me kinda happy for him though. He still sucks, but like Ichika said, I can't hate him, because it was true that he did reduce the sadness of many (whilst creating sadness for many others too though) and at the core, he was like in a sense a guy who consumed so much sadness from everywhere around him, always in pain, always sad despite his appearance, and thinking that makes it difficult for me to truly hate him.

Overall, I like the Adonis route! Initially, I was a bit sceptical whether it was really necessary and whether it would be interesting at all but I really loved bonding with all the executors. Seeing more of the human and emotional sides, seeing them warm up to Ichika and become friends with her really made me enjoy the "what could never be" part of it all. I think I especially loved Akito's because of how emotional it was tying into Kazuki and everything. But I also really enjoyed seeing the different sides of all of them. It really makes me wish Ichika got an individual route with like Akito and Sanjo and Ogata because I loveee them🥲🥲

Overall Review

I definitely enjoyed CxM: Unlimited much more than I thought I would! In the beginning, Sasazuka and Okazaki's routes kinda made me wonder whether I really wanted to continue this, but I'm so glad I got through them because I enjoyed Enomoto's, Yanagi's and Shiraishi's routes a lot! If I ranked them, I probably liked Shiraishi's the most, then Yanagi, Enomoto, Okazaki and then Sasazuka. It's definitely what I wanted in a fandisk, which is more fluffy romance and just bonding with all the guys even more, and I absolutely loveeee the potential romances with Yoshinari and Minegishi, they were so unexpectedly nice. Definitely no plot but that's okay since it's a fandisc and I think it fulfilled really well what its goal was when it comes to more romance in the story haha. 8/10! I'm definitely going to miss the characters, I'm so attached to Enomoto and them lol.

[yan-genshin]

- a/n: i’ve already written for kaeya in a very similar scenario here [x]- which was of the traveler leaving mondstat- so just to kinda specify the difference here, this is about the darling just leaving teyvat as in leaving the world- it doesn’t have to be the traveler really (let’s just... assume there’s other outlanders), but just thought i’d specify the difference! after all, leaving a country has much lower stakes than leaving the world. 

- warnings: general yandere content, nonconsensual use of drugs, implied physical violence

♥︎ diluc ragnvindr

diluc is stubborn. he doesn’t want to face his feelings- he’s too busy, he has priorities, he can’t let himself get too close to someone like that; he tries to suppress his “crush”, and it festers and grows unchecked, spiraling out into an unhealthy obsession wherein diluc doesn’t even notice how suddenly all he seems to think about is them

he should be concentrating on keeping mondstat safe. he should be putting his energy into doing what the knights seem to fail to do- and yet even when he’s slashing down enemies or getting information, his mind invariably always settles on thoughts of them. are they safe right now? are they in the city, or traveling the roads? if they’re out, are they staying clear from hilichurl camps? they aren’t hurt, right?

“master diluc, you called for me?” they come into the winery, weapon slung over their back. he frowns- they look disheveled, as if they’d gotten into a scuffle before getting there. he knows that slimes tend to frequent around the winery, much to his distaste- in theory, he’s well aware that they’re capable enough to fend off against some slimes, but it still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth to think of them being attacked by monsters. still, the sight of them calms his heart- he’d been gone for some weeks chasing down some information from some abyss mages, and the only thing he’d been able to think about was whether his... “friend” was safe. he’d never admit it if asked, but he didn’t actually have a real reason to have summoned them here; he just... needed to see them. it was fine; he could just say he wanted to discuss something. anything. it didn’t matter, as long as he could keep them close for a while.

even if he refuses to think about his own emotions, they keep growing. past crush, past love, morphing into obsession, stalkerish, feverish obsession. it’s not hard for him to get information of their whereabouts, but it’s just not enough. what can he do if he’s far away and they’re in danger? there’s nothing he can do by just knowing that- and he’s running out of excuses to invite them over and make them stay the night in one of the guest rooms, he’s running out of excuses to make them stick by him

he’s so caught up in his own dilemma of trying to keep them close, of keeping them safe (despite them being able to hold up on their own- he can’t trust anyone to keep them safe, not the knights, not themselves, if he’s not the one to protect them he can’t rest) that the thought of them simply not... belonging on teyvat never crosses his mind. not until they mention how they’ve found a way to leave

leave teyvat. just- leave the world, take flight and go far beyond where any archon- where diluc- can reach. and something in him breaks. it’s no longer him just wanting them to be safe; it’s something much more selfish, much more simple- he doesn’t want them to leave. and yet he tries to cover it up, to justify it: he needs to stop them for their own good. he needs to stop them; surely, they don’t understand what they’re doing, he’s right, he’s reasonable and calculated, he’s doing what he has to-

“i can’t let you leave.” diluc’s words are scarily serious. in his table, it’s just him and his beloved (that’s the word, that’s what they are; he’s in too deep to try and fool himself they’re anything but, not with the way his heart speeds up with them, not with the way his jealousy flares when they as much as speak to someone else). their eyes widen for a second, and then they seem to try and relax, perhaps trying to tell themselves diluc is cracking a joke. but diluc isn’t the type to kid around- and as his gaze digs into them, they’re suddenly painfully aware of the fact their weapon isn’t with them, their bag with all their belongings stashed away in a guest room. diluc notices their rising panic- he understands, he really does, but this is for their own good. “don’t try to stand too fast- you’re not making it too far. don’t worry, the drug in your drink isn’t dangerous. i just need you asleep so you don’t do something stupid and hurt yourself.”

if the people of mondstat knew their beloved darknight hero, knew that the handsome bachelor and wine tycoon diluc was capable of this- of drugging someone so he could lock them inside his own home- they’d be horrified. and he’s horrified, too; diluc isn’t even given the respite of deluding himself into thinking his actions are correct, but he can at least tell himself they’re justified. he isn’t- it’s not as if he’s forcing himself onto them, or hurting them, he’s just keeping them safe. he’s doing what he has to do.

diluc becomes almost condescending. at first he just takes away all weapons (if his darling has a vision he’ll be taking that too), keeping them in a windowless, but furnished, room. and then he takes away all objects he deems “dangerous”- perhaps he can see how depressed and hurt they are, how badly he’s destroyed them, and he fears they’ll try to hurt themselves in retaliation- any vaguely sharp or heavy object is taken away, furniture bolted to the ground, utensils taken away after every meal. “keeping them safe” may be what he claims he’s doing, but in reality, he’s almost infantilizing them, his twisted obsession and desire to protect them culminating in an almost bizarre behaviour in which he doesn’t show affection towards them but almost seems to expect them to all of a sudden give him the much-desired attention he craves

“you- why won’t you cooperate and understand? quit being so immature- i’m trying to keep you safe, don’t you get it?” the frustration in diluc’s voice is almost palpable as he looks at his darling. they’re huddled in the bed, refusing to speak or move. it shouldn’t be shocking- it’s been what, four months? maybe five, six? since he crushed their dreams of leaving the land, since he essentially took their life into his hands. he knows that what he did wasn’t good, but he just doesn’t understand why they’re acting like this. he’s decorated their room perfectly, no dangers and no sharp corners, highly-expensive furniture bolted to the ground, he’s given them books and harmless gadgets to entertain themselves with, he’s done everything he can to make a small safe heaven for them, and yet they’re so... ungrateful, flinching when he walks in, always crying. they’re lucky that diluc’s obsession doesn’t run a more violent course; he doesn’t consider using violence to finally make them answer, despite how easy it’d be to heat his hands just enough to hurt with his vision, despite how easy it’d be to finally make them realize how hard he’s working for them by reminding them how pain feels and how he’s making sure they don’t feel it- but no, he won’t. or at least, not yet.

♥︎ kaeya alberich

kaeya isn’t subtle about his attraction to them, but he never sends a clear signal- if there’s one thing he is not, it’s easy to read. when he first begins to find his mind full of thoughts about them, when he finds himself staring at them, throwing flirty comments with the intent to actually flatter and not fluster, kaeya takes it in stride as well as he can

... which is, shockingly, not was well as one would think. for all kaeya plays around as a “playboy” or “big flirt”, when it comes to actual feelings, he’s not experienced. in fact, he finds himself almost... hurting. he never gets too close to people, never leaves an opening for himself to get hurt, and yet he can tell he’s fallen hard for the outlander

feelings of jealousy and possessiveness seem to come in clutch, a rather ironic thing considering that while kaeya won’t tolerate even a compliment towards them, always stepping in and whisking them away, he seems to still be freely flirting with anyone he pleases- but really, it’s just a feeble attempt to keep up the normalcy. kaeya knows better than anyone how easy it is to form rumors, and he doesn’t quite want people speaking because he’s suddenly stopped his flirty behaviour and always hangs around one specific person

“could i perhaps bother you for a second? you see, jean asked me to go investigate some ruins near starsnatch cliff, but all the knights are busy right now. it’ll be a quick job, just come and go- care to accompany me? of course, i’ll treat you to a hot meal afterwards, as thanks.” kaeya is smooth and doesn’t falter as he speaks to them, watching as their face brightens at the mention of a warm meal. perhaps it’s mean of him to use that for leverage- as an outlander, they don’t have any home to call their own, often camping outside or paying for inns when the can afford to- and he knows very well a proper warm meal isn’t common for them. also, he’s lying through his teeth. he knows damn well there’s a ruin guard laying dormant in the ruins (that’s actually the reason why he’s supposed to go there, to get rid of it)- and with only two people, who knows how long it’ll take for them to get rid of the machine. but it’s fine- it’s just a little danger, it’s worth it for some time with them

the habit of lying to his darling to get them to do as he pleases is one kaeya can’t shake off. they aren’t naive, per se, but they can’t help but be a bit lost when it comes to cultural or historical things to do with the land, something kaeya is more than willing to use to his advantage. he doesn’t mind danger- doesn’t mind leading them right into a hilichurl camp so he can “save them”, doesn’t mind treking out right before a storm so they’re “stuck with him” on a tent while the weather clears out

there’s no formal relationship- kaeya never confesses, never decides to call them his partner- and yet it almost feels like he’s singlehandedly decided he’s dating them now. pet names, dates, affection; it’s all too much at once, and yet his smooth and tricky demeanour makes it almost impossible to turn any of it down. it’s as if he’s suddenly speeding up, going faster than before; perhaps because he fears they’ll soon try to leave mondstat- but oh, wouldn’t it be awful if the people began to talk about how they came in, seduced the cavalry captain, and then left? that’d be quite horrible, wouldn’t it? perhaps they’ll have to stay just a bit more- to clear things up and whatnot

“now, now, don’t be so hasty. where are you going now? you wouldn’t be thinking of leaving without me, would you?” the outlander seems to almost jump out of their skin as kaeya seemingly pops out of nowhere, sliding his arm around their shoulder. they’re at mondstat’s gates; they’d truly just meant to go out and train, to have a breather (to try and get some alone time, before kaeya dragged them off to do some weird quest or job), and yet the blue-haired captain had somehow caught them at the gate. they weren’t sneaking out; they had all the right to come and go, and yet dread pools in their gut, feeling as if though they’d been caught doing something wrong. kaeya chuckles, but the look in his eye isn’t quite as entertained. “i can’t say i’m a fan of you doing this, darling.”

when did his little lovesick fantasies evolve from just dreaming of kissing them and holding them to wanting to see them cry? when did the emotion he thought was love morph into the dark, unsightly obsession that churned in him, spurring him to keep manipulating and bending his darling to his will? it’s perhaps tragic that kaeya has never been one to bother himself too much with having good morals; he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get the results he wants in any scenario

and so hearing his darling shakily admit that they’re trying to figure out how to leave just spurs him on. oh, it breaks him, don’t get him wrong; kaeya’s had enough of being abandoned, of being tossed aside. and even though he rarely lets his heart be seen, in that moment, his darling sees him as vulnerable as he can be- crying, clinging to them. are they going to abandon him too, huh? toss him aside and leave him to fend for himself? it’s miserable and shocking; perhaps enough to temporarily stun his darling, to make them falter. it’s so easy to forget months of manipulation and pain seeing kaeya’s tears and hearing his sobs- it’s... too easy to tell themselves they “can stay a while more”

and that “while” might turn longer than they think. there’s nothing for kaeya to lose anymore; he can’t “move too fast” now, because he can either pounce or he can lose his darling forever. it’s a high stakes situation, and even if it takes destroying their weapons and any sort of power they have, even if it takes him locking them away in the basement to his home, it’s ok. it would have ended in this anyways and he knows it; eventually he’d have cracked, he’d have taken them for himself anyways. they just sped up the process

“you’re so cold to me, baby.” his tone is almost mocking as he tugs on the chain that’s connected to their neck, forcing them to look up to him. they’re wearing one of his dress shirts- he kindly gave them the option to either wear that or go shirtless, and then proceeded to coo over how adorable they looked, about how lovely and domestic it felt to have them wear his clothes.  as if there was anything domestic about keeping them locked in a basement, the heavy collar around their neck with a chain that connected to a sturdy metal bolt on the wall. one of his hands moves to caress their face- it’s cold, and his vision flashes, as if to warn them that if they try to jerk away or upset him, he isn’t above using his ice to make them sorely regret that. he relishes in the look of panic in their eyes (he’s so far gone from the version of himself he used to be, no longer entertained by the thought of regular affection, having now had a taste of how intoxicating it was to be in power, to see the fear in their eyes and to taste salty tears running down their cheeks). “won’t you give me a kiss? of course, i’d be glad to help you get... cooler, if you’d prefer to keep giving me the cold shoulder...”

[deithe]

the bones (2,847 words) (1/1)

(an introspective on jason grace. kind of?)

read here on ao3 or read below the cut!

jason falls in love with the human equivalent of a forest fire

(his mother fell in love with the sky itself)

jason grace grew up being told that his destiny was very, very simple.

his first and most important mission, handed down to him from lady juno and mother lupa, was that jason was destined to save rome. that his destiny lay with new rome and camp jupiter, a new romulus to lead the pack to greatness. he would spill so much blood in new rome’s name that the little tiber would overflow and the gods would crown him with a golden laurel made from monster ichor.

he would be everything everyone else needed.

a spear for the senate, a shield for new rome, a standard to replace the one that had been lost, a sword for the gods to wield, and another pack member for lupa. he would be the perfect soldier, a demigod fashioned by two god-mothers for the simple act of being a weapon.

his second duty was that jason was to be nothing like his father.

his father, evil, unpredictable, selfish and cruel, was to be jason’s antithesis. lady juno stressed this, as did the senate, as did his praetors (though praetor saville jason eventually killed in battle, so jason doesn’t take her words to heart anymore). jason was never, ever to be like his father. all sons of jupiter before him were either driven insane or were killed, and jason’s great destiny could not afford for him to do either of those things.

‘hubris’ lady juno once told him, while going through his latin lessons in the damp cold of the den (or wolf house, as she called it), ‘is the thing that kills sons of jupiter’.

so jason was to never be prideful, but at the same time, never to believe he was inferior. he was to be subservient but never meek, he was to be a capable fighter but never violent. he was to be kind but not a pushover. open but not flirtatious.

he was to be perfect. he could not afford anything else.

then he, in the span of a few months, murdered his prateor after finding out she was a traitor, watched his friend be assaulted by a family legacy of prophetic visions which turned him into a paranoid asshole, watched his other friend assume a leadership role, one which he tried to refuse, and fought an army, killed a titan and toppled kronos’ black throne.

he also became praetor and then was promptly kidnapped by lady juno, leaving said other friend with all the responsibility.

then any and all plans the gods had for him were ruined by a daughter of aphrodite with eyes like the earth and a son of hephaestus with a smile like war.

how could jason be the perfect soldier when his loyalties no longer lay with new rome? he loved his home, he loved his siblings-in-arms, he loved the legion-

he loved leo and piper more than the breath in his lungs, than the sky and earth and more than his destiny. he loved them enough to try and find whatever scraps of himself he had. to create something they could love too.

(heracles killed himself after accidentally killing his family. love killed him in the end)

and so, jason failed in his first mission. he could no longer put new rome above them, above camp half-blood.

jason doesn’t think becoming his father is an option for him, however. his father is prideful and arrogant and his father's likeness, he will eventually learn, belongs only to his prodigal sister.

and so, jason grace finds his last name, a family he never knew, friends he could die for and an empty cabin that seemed less lonely with leo or piper in it.

then they went on a quest, leo built a ship and they all set sail to stop gaia from rising.

then jason lost leo, then jason lost everything, then jason lost himself and then lost piper-

and, in the middle of winter, leo valdez came crashing down on a metal dragon with eyes like a nuclear explosion and teeth made for tearing meat from bone, or tearing jason’s heart from his chest.

and then jason found himself again in the space between the junction between leo valdez's fourth and fifth ribs.

leo valdez is a lot of things. he’s a son of hephaestus and a complete asshole. he’s the first child of hephaestus to be born with the ability to create and control fire in over 400 years. he’s a 5’4ft guy who wears platformed boots to make himself seem taller. he’s so powerful that he obliterated gaia. he’s a genius. he thinks spraying axe bodyspray on himself is the same as a shower. he overworks himself even when he doesn’t have to. he can fight gods and go toe-to-toe with any big three kid and hold his own. he likes to survive on a diet of mango monster energy and takis. he's obnoxious. he's thoughtful. he makes mean-spirited jokes at other people's expense. he's the best person jason's ever met

he’s-

currently late for their date.

It’s not that jason minds, per se, but leo has a nasty habit of getting so completely lost in his work that he can plan a date for the next day, and jason won’t see him for at least three days. it’s one of the downsides of being the trophy boyfriend of a genius.

jason sighs and rocks back on his heels, eyes darting up to the grey, overcast sky. he can almost hear leo in his head, asking if he could pretty please make it less goddamn cold? and his pout when jason refuses to change the weather for him.

it's not that jason won't. it's just that he can't. it makes aeolus snappy.

sometimes he still does it. manipulates the air currents just enough to warm the air around them and leo smiles, a real one, small and soft. like it wasn't meant to be seen. a secret thing, just for jason.

jason doesn't see leo smile like that often.

it's mid-february in new york and jason is kicking around central park in the grey mid-day light. it's quiet, this part of the park, with barely anyone passing jason as he leans against a tree, wet dew dripping into his unstyled hair. it's cold, but not cold enough for a freeze or snow. just the right amount of cold to turn your hands numb and purple from cold

which. if you've never seen leo 'was raised in texas and has fire powers' valdez in new york snow, jason fully believes you've never lived.

he spends another 30 minutes splitting his time from staring into space and wandering around the meeting spot they've arranged. it's peaceful here. jason can even hear some birds twittering and chirping in the trees above. the cold even stops bothering him. jason likes being alone sometimes.

it reminds him of the lupercal and lupa. long days and nights in the loneliness of the redwood forest. just him and the wolves and the stars.

though now jason has sturdy boots and a wool jacket, so not exactly the same.

he's in the middle of trying to coax a timid sparrow onto the hand, crouched on the balls of his feet when he feels a presence beside him. he goes stiff when he realises and then, like all the tension has been zapped out of him, goes relaxed again.

"that," leo whispers, also crouched beside jason, "is one fat fucking bird"

jason represses a grin, "don't say that. he's probably barely eaten all winter," and leo snorts, moving closer to jason so their shoulders brush. the bird regards leo with some caution but his black, beady eyes seem to acknowledge that jason would keep him safe.

"he looks better fed than me, jace. do you care more about this bird than your own poor boyfriend?" leo says, faux-sadness in his voice, "how cruel, jason grace. how cruel".

jason turns in time to see leo shake his head, black curls wild around his face as they shudder like leaves in the wind. his eyes are dark brown, watching the bird watch leo. a staring contest.

leo says his name like no one else does. like it's a name. like it's good. like it's something familiar and warm. he does not say 'jason' and imagine a great hero or a wolf-boy with no past. he does not say 'grace' like a joke, like grasp for power, like it carries too much weight for his tongue to bare.

he says it like it belongs to jason. he says it like it's important. not too fast, but not too slow.

leo turns his head to find jason staring at him.

"jason" he calls, lips quirking up at the edge, pulling out the 'o' like toffee, "i know i'm pretty irresistible but please, keep your longing stares for the bedroom"

jason shoves up against leo's shoulder, blush bursting across his already red-cold face.

he pushes just slightly too hard and leo goes spilling across the wet grass, yelping in surprise.

"jason!" he yells, looking up at jason half shocked and half in amusement. "what the fuck, dude!"

jason can't help himself.

leo is wearing jason's hoodie, the black one mrs.blofis picked out for jason which leo claimed as his own even before they started dating. his new denim, fur-lined jacket (from the hide of the nemean lion they killed last year) is just slightly too big and he's wearing black jeans. he looks like the college freshman he is. he looks mortal.

he looks human. he has leaves in his hair and his cheeks are flushed from the cold, teeth showing through the toothy smile he's giving and-

it's uncanny, sometimes, how well they can pass for normal. you almost can't tell leo's died and come back to life. you almost can't tell he's more powerful than any living mortal.

almost.

jason falls on top of leo in the wet grass, which causes leo to yelp, again, and knee jason in the stomach.

jason groans "dude, what the hades was that for?" and he rolls of leo, onto the wet grass beside him, arms protectively covering his bruised stomach.

"you fell directly on top of me, you big lug," and leo sits up, picking a leaf out of his curls absentmindedly, "if you haven't noticed, you're like a bean-pole with muscle mass. that shit hurts!"

jason pouts up at leo, who manages to look both unimpressed and fond. he rolls his eyes and offers his hand to jason, who accepts and leo hauls him into a sitting position in front of him

"hi, leo" jason says finally, "you're late"

"i'm not late, loser, you're just a nerd and get places earlier than normal people. its super weird," leo tells him, matter-of-factly, scooting closer to him as they sit on the ground. "you should really get it checked. might be terminal nerdiness. the glasses are just the first sign"

jason raises an eyebrow, curviving over said glasses. "i didn't know it could be terminal. oh well, guess i'll just wither away and die from being punctual. what an injust life i lead. how the sorrows never end"

leo pouts, eyes sparking with enough warmth to keep out the cold for decades to come, "don't be so down about it, I hear being a nerd has perks,"

jason moves closer, so his knees are half-pulled up to his chest and he's balancing his weight on his hand. leo fits perfectly in the bracket of his arms.

"oh? do tell?" he asks, and leo is close enough that jason can see the faint freckles on his cheeks. they're fading from how far away leo has been from the sun, but jason loves them anyways.

"yup," leo says, popping the p and smiling like the cat who got the cream. "do you know that all nerds get super hot and funny and sexy boyfriends? as compensation for being such nerds, of course"

jason pulls back his head a bit, just as leo laces his arms around his shoulders, "really?" and his voice is soft, but the smile won't disappear from his lips, "wow, didn't know that. guess I'm lucky that you're such a huge nerd or-"

leo kisses him like coming home. and in a way it is.

jason has known many homes. he's known the small apartment with his mother that smelt like spilt wine and smoke and mold. he's known the lupercal and the redwood forests around it. he's known the barracks at camp jupiter and the feeling of purpose in his chest. he's known cabin 1 and cabin 9 and bunker 9 and on the back of festus and on the argo. he's known the feeling of reyna laughing as he tells her wild stories and of the fifth cohort raising him on their shields. he's known lying in leo's private room with piper and leo, listening to low music and feeling safe with just them.

but the one person who jason has felt like home since they met was leo. his high ground through the tsunami. his parachute during a plane crash. the one point of home. like the north-star.

jason smiles into the kiss, his free hand tangling itself in the rough fabric of leo's dark blue denim jacket. it's soft and chaste, more a press of warm lips than anything. it's comforting. it's familiar. it's everything he wants.

leo pulls back a bit, just far enough to speak but still close enough that his breath brushes up against jason's cold face. "hi," he says, brushing his nose against his, "missed you, bro".

jason snorts, "i missed you too, leo, how's MIT treating you?"

"like i'm it's bitch is how it's treating me," leo tells him, slumping slightly into jason, forehead against jason's. "can we not talk about college? i think if we talk about college I might start crying and then our date will be ruined"

jason pulls back a bit to look at leo. he does look more tired than usual, eye-bags darker and lips bitten from nervousness. he frowns, using his free hand to cup his face. "are you okay? we can just go back to your dorm if you're too tired-"

"ugh, no way" leo groans, "fuck that. i just wanna spend time with you, okay? i wanna be mushy and all that gay shit. i want bad food and to kiss you again and again and do more than kissing-"

jason rolls his eyes.

"-and then go back to mrs.blofis apartment and watch really bad movies you like for some reason and then i'll go to sleep beside you and it'll be gay and shit"

"gay and shit?"

"gay and shit, you better believe it grace. but first-"

and leo untangles himself from jason and stands up, brushing the dirt from his knees leaving jason frowning on the floor.

he offers out his hand, brown skin calloused from work, long, thin fingers curled slightly as the palm faced upwards.

"c'mon, super, treat your louis lane to some greasy new york food before he decides batman has better pay"

jason is so, so lucky he got leo valdez. that the fates decides to make sure that his destiny crosses leo's. that he convinced leo valdez to let down his walls, to stay, that jason wouldn't leave him like the others, or hurt him or betray him.

that jason was in it for as long as leo wanted him to be. that jason only wanted leo to say his name, wanted to give it to leo because leo's the only one who's mouth jason trusts with it. that jason wanted to give leo his past. wanted to show him and tell him where he got each scar.

he trusts leo with this. he trusts leo's hands to not burn it all to ash. because he knows that if leo wanted to, he could. he could burn jason alive with a thought. turn him to ash and glass with a flick of his hand.

jason has fallen in love with a nuclear bomb, with a supernova of a boy and jason doesn't care if it kills him, because he has spent so long pretending to be what everyone else needed, that now he was going to be who he wanted to be. even if it got him killed. even if it burned him alive.

jason grace has fallen in love with the human version of a forest fire. he should be afraid of it, of leo. he is not. he never will be.

beryl grace fell in love with the sky itself. wanted all the stars in heaven and didn't care what happened to her. as long as she knew she had the stars attention. as long as she knew the sky loved her back.

as long as he knew the fire loved him back.

he takes his hand.

[voiceless-terror]

all those sleep prompts are so killer and such big jon vibes!!! i would love to read anything on "- a character who refuses to share a sleeping space with anyone else, and it’s because he doesn’t want to disturb others/doesn’t want pity/is ashamed of his nightmares" with jon. bonus points if tim is involved and extra bonus points if tim also has experience with insomnia/nightmares, either himself or used to taking care of someone in his life with those issues...

Hey there! Here I am, finally writing the promised Jon/Tim that I should have written ages ago. Feels good to be on this train! I’ve placed this in pre-canon, when Jon and Tim are researchers and have just started dating. Hope you like!

“That was...really nice, Tim. Thank you.”

“Thank you? Jon, we split the check,” Tim throws an arm around his shoulder and it’s heavy and warm in all the right ways. “You know my policy on that. The person who asks you out pays the bill! Ergo, me.”

“I know, I know,” Jon relents under the pressure and burrows into Tim’s side. The wine’s gone to his head, he’s sure of it. Shouldn’t have had those three glasses. But the waiter was so attentive and Tim’s smile was infectious so he couldn’t help but say yes, of course, thank you, to every pour. “I just...I really enjoyed myself, is all.”

“I did too,” Tim’s voice goes to that soft, fond register he’s only just started using with Jon. Before it had been all gregarious charm, winks and nudges that he used interchangeably with friends and acquaintances alike. When Tim first asked him out, Jon thought he was joking; he rolled his eyes and went back to work, ignoring Tim’s look of hurt. Jon was used to practical jokes of this nature- he’s not exactly an attractive prospective partner, and several people have implied he was more trouble than he was worth. But a week later, on their usual coffee run, Tim offered to buy him dinner, his voice serious and shy and utterly unlike him. The look in his eyes was genuine and Jon had to say yes; who could refuse him, in the face of such sincerity?

It’s been a month and they’ve fallen into a sort of routine. Every week is a new spot- Tim’s a bit of a foodie, and he overheard him making a list of places with Sasha. It took up an entire page in his notebook, and Jon wonders if Tim will get sick of him before they finish it.

He stumbles on the sidewalk and Tim catches him with a steady hand on his waist. The cold air should be bracing but it is not; his dizziness increases two times over and it’s a long journey home. Tim knows this, which must lead to his next suggestion.

“You can spend the night at mine,” he says, voice purposefully light. Jon freezes. They hadn’t broached the topic yet, but he thinks Tim has some sort of idea. Rumors abound in research, after all. Tim must notice his nervousness because he stops walking, turning to face Jon with that same unbearable sincerity. 

“Nothing untoward, I promise,” Tim says, and Jon believes him. Tim hasn’t lied to him yet. “I just don’t feel comfortable putting you on the tube, and you’re a long way from home while I’m right around the corner.” Jon still doesn’t respond, so Tim continues. “No pressure, honestly. I could call you a cab, it’s not a big deal-”

“No, that’s-that’s too expensive.” Living in London is hard enough, especially on a researcher’s salary. But to spend the night at Tim’s, as innocent as it may be, fills him with dread. There’s a reason he lives alone. There’s a reason it took him almost a year before he stayed the night at Georgie’s.

Sleep has never been kind to him.

Jon has nightmares. Terrible, horrifying visions of make-believe that leave him screaming and crying and choking on his breath. Georgie had been about ready to call an ambulance the first time she witnessed it, but Jon was able to talk her down.

“These happen every night?” she’d asked, her face a mix of pity and concern. 

“Not every night,” he insisted. It was true. If he stayed up late, working himself to exhaustion, he could usually manage a dreamless sleep of at least five hours. But that came with its own difficulties; crankiness, irritability. It put a strain on most of his relationships. 

Tim, though- Tim is kind and understanding. Beneath the mask of sociability and flirtation lies a serious, determined person. Compassionate, loving, but in a quiet way and with small gestures. He makes lists. He puts in time. He asks Jon what he wants when they go out to eat and he doesn’t laugh or roll his eyes when Jon carries on for too long. 

“We can go to your place,” he whispers. “I-I think I’d like that.” Tim smiles and hooks an arm through his and Jon knows he’s made the right decision. Maybe tonight will be different. Maybe the wine will dull the terror that rules most of his life. The night is dark and Jon’s flat is cold and lonely. 

Tim’s flat, on the other hand, is warm and cozy. It’s neat and organized, but cluttered enough to give it personality and charm. There’s a couch calling his name and he answers it, practically collapsing in the cushions as Tim lets out a little laugh.

“No going to sleep yet,” he instructs and Jon can’t help but let out a groan. The warmth and safety of the spot and the closeness of Tim has suddenly made him comfortably tired, and he’d like to slip off to sleep in this pleasant haze. “Not until you’ve had some food and water. I’ve even got those crusty little granola bars you like so much.”

“They’re not crusty,��� he grumbles, his voice stifled by a pillow. But he’s not in a fighting mood and his mind’s currently swimming with the fact that Tim stocked his favorite snack. 

“Very crusty, indeed,” Tim’s nudging him up into a sitting position and forcing water into his hands. “Drink up!”

“You’re very irritating, I hope you know,” Jon says as he leans his head onto Tim’s shoulder. Tim makes for a comfortable pillow. 

“Aw, you love it.” 

Maybe he does.

By the time he’s choked down the last of the bar, his eyes are fluttering and he can’t keep in his yawns. Tim puts a warm hand on his arm and it burns pleasantly as he pulls him up. “Time for bed, I think.”

The words startle Jon out of his haze and he blinks his eyes open, focusing on Tim’s gentle smile. “Er, I think-” he doesn’t want to disappoint the man, but he would rather be as cautious as possible. “I think it would be best if I slept out here.”

“On the couch?” Tim asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Oh- would you rather sleep alone?” Tim doesn’t seem too miffed about it, just confused, so Jon answers as honestly as he can.

“Yes.” He doesn’t want to, not really. But he needs to.

“Alright,” Tim agrees easily enough. “But you should take the bed, then. The sofa’s comfy but I know you have a bad back-”

“It’s fine for one night,” Jon responds. Forcing Tim to sleep on the sofa in his own flat seems terribly selfish.

“If you’re sure…”

“I am,” Jon assures, trying to convey his affection in a gentle smile. Tim returns it.

“I’ll just get you some sheets, then. Change of clothes, too.”

By the time Jon’s head hits the pillow, comfortably attired in Tim’s old joggers and t-shirt, he’s already half asleep. He thinks Tim’s already left the room but then he feels the warm pressure of a kiss to his forehead.

Perhaps he dreamed that, though.

__________

There’s a thread and it’s pulling Jon forward.

It’s not comfortable. Jon would rather stay here, in the library, surrounded by books and dim lights and knowledge he has control over. But there are whispers in the hallway, and someone’s telling him to go, go, go. 

And go he does. Down stairs, so many stairs, more stairs than the institute ought to have. There is something watching and something pulling; Jon is being split in two and somehow this is worse than actually seeing the spiders and the eyes that have haunted him all these years. This, he feels in his soul. Something is at stake.

There’s a door. This is how it always ends, you see- with a door. And Jon’s fist, small and childish and grubby, raises to knock against the wood. It echoes too many times as Jon tries to step back, get off this porch and out of this nightmare but it is too late, the deed is done and the door is opening and a single, spindly black leg creeps out of the door hello, Mr. Spider-

“Jon!”

There are limbs holding him but it’s not the many-legged creature of his nightmares- they’re familiar and strong even as he thrashes against them but someone is screaming and the sound is haunting and painful-

And it’s him. Jon wrenches his eyes open to find himself safe and sound, held in place by Tim’s arms. His heart continues to stutter and he wheezes- Tim’s got a hand on his back and a soothing murmur going.

“You’ve got to breathe, Jon. Slow.” Tim takes his shaking hand and puts it to his own chest. “Like this. In and out. There you go. Nice and slow.” The words are calm and practiced; Tim’s done this before, with someone else. As his heartbeat resumes a normal rhythm, he wonders who. 

There’s a hand on Jon’s face, gently wiping away tears he wasn’t aware he shed. Tim’s eyes are far-away, sort of, like he’s just going through the motions, slow and loving. “There we are,” he says as he finally meets Jon’s eyes. “Better now?”

“Y-Yes,” he croaks back. His hand is still gripping at Tim’s shirt but he doesn’t let go until the reality of the situation sets in. “Oh God- I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you-”

“Is that why you slept out here?” Tim asks, his voice patient. “Does this happen a lot?”

“M-More than I care to admit.” Jon feels a sudden need to explain himself, to let Tim know he tries to keep it under control as best he can. “I’ve tried everything- tea, therapy, p-pills- it doesn’t work.” A note of frustration creeps into his voice. “Something doesn’t want me to sleep, I guess.”

“Just thought you were a workaholic, to be honest,” Tim pulls him into his side and Jon melts, the tension slowly leaving his body. “Should’ve known better. We work at the Magnus Institute, after all.” The laugh that comes from both of them is bitter. “D’you want to sleep in my bed, maybe? Just- just for company. I’ve been told that helps.”

“I-I don’t want to wake you.” The argument is weak and the both of them know it.

“You already have, love.” The endearment slips out unnoticed by Tim, but Jon hears it. “You’ll wake me either way, but I’d rather you didn’t wake up alone.”

“O-Oh.” There’s a lot of care in those words. Jon doesn’t know what to do with it, except agree. “Yes, I’ll- if, if you don’t mind-”

“Wouldn’t offer if I did.” He wouldn’t, Jon knows. Tim always means what he says when it comes to him.

So they curl up in his bed, an arm slung across Jon’s waist, his back to Tim’s chest. There are no spiders here, not in this bed that smells of dryer sheets and detergent and Tim. He’s almost asleep when the arm around his waist tightens suddenly.

“My brother always said the pressure helped. When he had bad dreams.” Jon opens his eyes.

Tim never mentioned a brother; it never came up in any of their conversations. Tim knows Jon is an only child, that he was brought up by his grandmother and had a lonely childhood. He didn’t realize, in all of their time together, that he knew so little of Tim’s own background, besides his publishing career.

Nobody liked to talk about what brought them to the Magnus Institute. It was like some unspoken rule, some shared trauma that somehow kept them all silent and apart.

“Your brother?” he whispers, turning over to see Tim’s face. Its dark, but he thinks he can see a brightness in Tim’s eyes like unshed tears. 

“Danny.” Tim says the name like he’s asking for forgiveness that Jon can’t give. He sees a tear drip down the man’s face and he reaches for it, just like Tim did before. “He was...he was my little brother. And he was so, so good.” Tim’s voice breaks and something in Jon breaks too. “And something took him from me.” His expression is hard but his hand reaches out to lovingly trace Jon’s face, as if trying to memorize its shape.

“I’m sorry,” Jon knows his apology is not enough, that it will never fill the gap in Tim’s heart. Instead, he finds words spilling from his lips, as if sharing his own pain will help too. “I-I saw someone get taken, once. I didn’t- I didn’t love them, but- but it was because of me.” Tim’s hand is in his hair, tucking a curl behind his ear as his voice wobbles. “It should’ve been me.” 

Tim draws him close and squeezes; Jon buries his face in the crook of his neck and inhales. “I’m glad it wasn’t you, Jon,” Tim whispers as he runs a hand down his back. “I’m glad it wasn’t you.” Jon isn’t Danny and Tim isn’t offering him absolution but it’s fine, for tonight.

Jon doesn’t dream.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494077

[lassieposting]

💘💘💘💘 + ghasdug

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they first met and how

So Skug says they stowed away on the same ship, but this is...not exactly true.

He stowed away on that ship, because he was running away from home and he was a snobby little lordling who'd never had to fend for himself a day in his life, so the furthest ahead he'd actually thought to plan was "they won't want to turn around and drop me off once they're underway".

Ghastly was not stowed away at any point during that trip. Ghastly was signed on for the journey as a deckhand, because Ghastly's mother told him he needed to, and it had to be that particular ship. Ghastly gets seasick, and did not want to go to sea in the slightest. But Ghastly's mother has visions and so Ghastly does as he is told. Apparently there was something important waiting for him on that ship.

Anyway Skug pops out once he thinks they're far enough away from shore that they'll leave him be rather than take him back to port, and he is incredibly mistaken. The captain is in favour of turning him around right there and then, because he's clearly some rich lord's brat, and whoever his father is will probably pay handsomely for his safe return. Ghastly manages to talk the ship's crew into letting him stay on, provided he pulls his weight like the rest of them.

Needless to say, even before they're attacked by pirates, that voyage is a rude awakening for poor Skug, and good lord does Ghastly hear all about it. He has blisters. His feet hurt. This shirt was expensive and now it's all sweaty. His hair is in his eyes all the time. He's tired. The guy in the next bunk snores. Some of these people look like they have lice. He didn't realise he'd be doing manual labour, this is servant stuff, how dare they.

Ghastly does. Not realise at that point what he has let himself in for.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

Poor Ghastly gets to pine for years. Baby Skug isn't a great boyfriend. He's less invested - he loves Ghastly, but they have two totally different outlooks.

Ghastly is ugly. He's always been ugly. He's got a face he believes only his mother could love. He's never believed he'd find someone who saw past that or loved him regardless. So as soon as he gets Skug into bed, he's over the moon and ready to commit. He's like 17, and would absolutely settle down there and then given half a chance.

Skug, on the other hand, was a weird-looking child who only recently grew into an attractive adolescent and he is loving it. For the first time in his life, girls are noticing him. He doesn't want to settle down, he wants to play the field and sow some wild oats and have fun. So there are periods of exclusivity with Ghastly, interspersed with periods where Skug basically drops him to chase after the latest pretty bit of skirt.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

Ghastly's smitten by the time they make it back to Ireland - Skug is a bit soft and allergic to hard work and a pain in the arse, but he's flashy and charismatic and funny and pays attention to him without gawking at his face (past the initial "good god, what happened to you?") - but Skug is well and truly settled into living with Ghastly's family by the time he actually gives Ghas the come-on.

where their first date was and what it was like

They went to the local tavern and got drunk, and then rode home in the pouring rain once it kicked them out at closing time.

When they got home, Ghastly's parents had long since gone to bed, but that wasn't necessarily unusual - once Skug, who has a considerable allowance, is old enough to start drinking, Saoirse institutes a rule that if they're not home by the time she and her husband turn in for the night, she'll leave blankets in the barn and they can sleep there instead. She's not having them barging in, wasted, at all hours of the day and night, waking her up after a hard day's work.

So they put the horses away and give them a quick rub down, and Ghastly is trying to look anywhere but Skug because Skug's shirt has gone kind of see-through and poor Ghastly is an awkward, horny teenage boy, but he keeps shooting him these furtive glances over the horse's back and Skug notices because Skug notices everything and lowkey teases him about it. "Want me to sit for a portrait? It'll last longer," sort of teasing, and Ghastly tries to laugh along but he's also vibrant red because he's been caught staring, so obviously Skug realises something's up

And he's precisely as tactful about it as he ever is about anything, and jokes, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted me," and Ghastly's ears burn and he doesn't deny it quick enough and now Skug's eyebrows are inching towards his hairline and Ghastly panics because like, he's ugly, Skug is going to be disgusted or laugh at him and he can't cope with either, so he just? Freezes?

But like. Skug was a weird-looking, unfortunate child who very recently grew into an attractive adolescent, so he fucking thrives on attention. So his response to this awkward not-quite-a-confession is actually a moment of silence while he mulls this new information over (this feels like an eternity to poor Ghastly) followed by an early attempt at using The Hot Voice and, "If you want me, have me."

So, they end up having sex in the hayloft on the blankets Ghastly's mom left out for them. Ghastly has never even been kissed and doesn't admit that he has no idea what he's doing until he realises Skug is expecting him to take the lead. He also blurts that he loves Skug when he nuts, so like. It's your typical painfully embarrassing virginity loss.

It can't be all bad though, because Skug's up for doing it again.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

So in my endgame-ghasdug AU, they get back together post-TDOTL. Ghastly survives being stabbed, but the blade nicked his spinal cord, so he's in a wheelchair for quite a while, and then has to do A Lot of physical therapy to relearn how to walk. Skug shows up at the hospital/facility where he's recovering every day unless there's an emergency, because Ghastly is very depressed and struggling with survivor's guilt over Anton and doesn't see the point in doing his physio because it hurts and he's exhausted and he shouldn't be alive anyway. And Skug annoys him into doing it, mostly by heckling him from the other side of the room, because he's not great at the whole emotional support thing. Ghastly will mutter, "Christ, I want to hit you," and Skug will tell him, "Well, if you come over here to do it I won't even duck." And if Ghastly gets his ass up and uses the walking frame support thing to cross the room, well, then Skug will take a punch like a man and be happy about it because Ghastly walked.

They also talk a lot during this period. Ghastly feels like shit, and he reminisces a lot about the good old days and how he never saw Ravel's betrayal coming and memories he has of Anton, and sometimes that veers into memories they share from when they were young men. And Skug, at this point, is old enough and has been through enough to admit that he wasn't great to Ghastly when they were boys. He was flighty and selfish and high-maintenance, and he would've hated to be treated the way he treated Ghastly. And he tells him that, at one point - that he's sorry, and if he could go back and do it differently, he would, assuming Ghastly was daft enough to be willing to put up with him a second time.

And Ghastly laughs and tells him, "I'd still have you now, you stupid bastard."

who proposes first

Ghastly. They're 19/20. Skug thinks he's joking.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

Neither - they don't announce it, but it's not exactly a secret either. Ghastly's parents notice pretty much straight away, but other than a few parental pointers on what is and isn't appropriate, it's not really a topic of conversation.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

Skug's sister Confelicity accepts the first proposal she gets at the age of 16, because she's desperate to get out of their parents' house and away from their toxic relationship and controlling behaviour. Their father disapproves and refuses to attend the wedding (and, of course, their mother is not allowed her own opinion), and Carver is out of the country, so Skug stands in to a) pay and b) give away the bride. He takes Ghastly for moral support, because he doesn't like most of his relatives and also doesn't like the groom (Thurid Guild - their relationship doesn't improve when Confelicity divorces him a few years later to marry a baronet). While they're watching the couple say their vows, Ghastly murmurs, "We should get married."

Skug is right in the middle of his hoe phase and does not realise Ghastly's serious.

who’s more dominant

Generally, Skug. He is one hell of a force of personality and Ghastly does get steamrollered quite a bit, although he does eventually learn how to say no. Skug always gets things his way, always does whatever he likes and be damned to the consequences, and Ghastly is always there with a handful of the back of his shirt, pulling his ass out of whatever fire he started.

In bed, though, it's Ghastly.

how into pda they are

As teenagers, Ghastly's mother has to reprimand them occasionally for being too all over each other, but teenagers be rabidly horny. As grown men, they're just sort of casually affectionate. Comfortable with each other. When they're relaxing in camp after a day of travelling, Skug will lean against Ghastly to read a book or put his head on Ghastly's leg while they chat. They can have a silent conversation just by reading each other's faces. They'll nudge each other when something reminds them of an in-joke. They have that easy intimacy that comes with having known each other forever.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

As boys, Ghastly has a particular flowery meadow he likes to take Skug to for picnics, because he's a romantic. Skug at that age is considerably less so, and more interested in whether they can screw there without getting caught.

In the modern day, they go to see old movies. Ghastly was very into the early films of the late 1910s and the 1920s, after the war finished. He associates them with a time where he finally got to just set up his shop and live the life he always wanted to live. Skug hasn't seen most of Ghastly's favourites, because he spent that period of history fighting the truce and then spiralling into a black hole of trauma and misery, but he got very into the noir detective era to the point that he's still clinging to the aesthetic like 80 years later, so they'll alternate who picks the movies and catch each other up on their favourites.

who’s more protective

They've both spent their fair share of time fretting in the chair beside a hospital bed. After Ravel's betrayal, though, it's Skug. Ghastly retires as soon as he's considered fit to make the decision, and decides he wants to go back to Dublin to reopen his shop and just sort of try and forget Roarhaven exists. And Skug is absolutely adamant that he gets to do it. There's a lot of interest in Ghastly for a while - groundbreaking healing magic was used to fix what should've been a permanent injury, people want to know if he suspected Ravel, they want his advice on how to rebuild after Devastation Day. He's more approachable than China, and a lot more popular. But he can't cope with it all, and anyone who tries to hassle him in Dublin will have Skug to deal with.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

The first night Skug stays at Ghastly's family home. Ghastly is an only child, and his family isn't wealthy - their house doesn't have a guest room. It's sleep with Ghastly or sleep on the floor, and Little Lord Priss isn't going to be sleeping on the floor.

Honestly, he's relieved there isn't a spare room for him. He's never really slept alone before. Like most children of very wealthy families back then, he grew up in a nursery with his four oldest brothers and sisters, and when he was too old to live with The Children, he shared a room, first with Carver and then with Francis. The thought of being on his own in a strange house is pretty intimidating.

He moves to his own bed as soon as they get him one, but he stays in Ghastly's room, and he's perfectly happy with that.

(Ghastly is less happy. He's very much crushing on Skug and he's terrified he'll say something incriminating in his sleep.)

who steals whose clothes and how often

Skug gets to steal Ghastly's clothes for a year or two after he moves in with Ghastly's family. After that, they're built too differently. Ghastly is built like a brick shithouse of muscle. Skug is lean and toned and tall. When they're younger, he can more or less wear Ghastly's clothes as a nightshirt, but after Skug's final growth spurt, Ghastly's clothes don't sit right on him at all, and he's gotten too vain and fashion-conscious by that point to just wear them anyway.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

Ghastly is fussy about his tea. Plenty of milk, two and a half sugars, leave the teabag in.

Skug just inhales it black, which Ghastly thinks is an abomination.

if they ever have any children together

Ghastly thanks his lucky stars every day that they have a 0% chance of accidentally spawning a skuglet. One of him is plenty.

He's very involved with Skugbab when he comes along, though. He's godfather and a very present uncle.

if they have any special pet names for each other

Skug doesn't do nicknames, and would rather not be given them, either. Ghastly gets away with "Skul", primarily because he's the only one who's known Skug since he was all of 16, but also because "Skulduggery" is a mouthful when all your blood is rushing to your downstairs brain and it's his own damn fault that he didn't think of that before he picked it.

if they ever split up and / or get back together

So many times. They're on and off again more frequently than Saracen's clothes. Every time Skug spots someone new, he ends it with Ghastly to pursue them, and then comes back when he loses interest or it doesn't work out.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

Ghastly's family home is an old farmhouse on the outskirts of Dublin. It's simple, but cosy, and Ghastly's dad is incredibly houseproud, so it's very well-looked-after. Skug prefers it by miles to his own palacial, but cold and unwelcoming, family home, and he tries to replicate the vibe later on with Wifey. It's pretty small compared to what he's used to, so it sort of feels like they're all living on top of each other, and he has to get used to not having any servants and drawing his own water to heat his own bath etc, but he's loved there, and that makes all the difference.

what their names are in each other’s phones

They're both old-ass men about some things, and this is one of them. So no emojis or anything - they're "Ghastly Bespoke" and "Skul". How romantic.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

Ghastly wakes up first: he's used to rising early to get started on his chores. Skug is absolutely not a morning person at this point in his life and Ghastly frequently has to turf his ass out of bed by pulling his quilt off/dumping water on him/yelling in his ear.

Reversed with modern day ghasdug: Ghastly still wakes at a sensible time, but damn it he left the army a century ago and now he likes a lie in. Skug never really stopped being a soldier and still has most of his military habits, so he's up with the sun.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

Ghastly is the big spoon. Skug likes to be Held.

who hogs the bathroom

Skug. The boy is vain as all fuck. There is a grand total of one cloudy looking-glass in Ghastly's family's home and Skug spends a good chunk of the morning hogging it to fuss with his hair and peacock at his reflection. Ghastly is under strict orders Never to mention this to Fletcher.

[beyscape]

Secrets

Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: “Ransom Drysdale is the father of a child but he doesn’t know it” requested by @evansrogersmarvelcomic​

Word Count: 2010

Warnings: a swear word or two

A/N: No spoilers from the movie! The daughter’s name is Mary, just a lil’ reference to Gifted :’) Also, this has been one of my favourite prompts for a veeery long time, so thanks a lot for the request!

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3

  Ransom Drysdale was a selfish asshole. Everyone who had spent as little as five minutes around him could easily see this. His history with women, the way he felt a trail made of broken hearts and tears wherever he passed through and how he only cared about his own interests were all facts well known to you. Yet still, he wasn’t all bad, you had told your friends when they tried to stop you from a mistake. A mistake, they had called it, going out with Ransom never ended well. You assured them you would be fine, just having some fun with a hot, charismatic guy.

  It was strange, how the conversation with your friends when you told them you were dating Ransom kept playing in your head as you sat on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. The handle of the cabinet dug into your back uncomfortably, but you barely noticed the pain.

Deep down, you had always known that it wouldn’t last. So, the year and a half you spent with Ransom was a surprise to you, as well as those around you. It was an endless repeat of a cycle, dating Ransom. It would start exhilarating, from the breathtaking dates and the way he made you feel, like the only woman on earth. Next phase would be you inevitably being mad him, the fights were passionate and tiring. He was unable to admit that he was wrong, that he was being a complete jerk and paired with your stubborn nature it would take days to end the screaming match. Then would come the angry make up sex, whatever you were fighting about melting away. This cycle repeated for a little less than a year and a half, until you couldn’t take it anymore and broke things up for good.

 That was a month ago.

 Even though it was your decision to end things and knew that it was the best thing to do for the long run, you couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken over the whole thing. Yes, you had known who Ransom was, but that didn’t change the fact that you still secretly hoped things would work out. That he would change. Just as a month passed and you started to feel better, to see clearly why you had to make that decision, it all came crashing down.

  Positive.

  You stared at the small stick between your shaking, cold hands. It was only supposed to soothe your worries as there was no way you were pregnant, just being paranoid, you had comforted yourself at the pharmacy. You were, however, very wrong, you realized with a startling halt as you turned over the three other sticks. All showed the result you dreaded.

  Positive.

  You dropped the stick next to the other ones on the floor, pulling your knees up to rest your head on them. You weren’t ready for this, a child was a huge responsibility, and the father wasn’t even in the picture- you cursed. Not only were you pregnant, you were pregnant with the baby of the one person who was absolutely not supposed to be more than some causal fun. After some hours of sitting in the same position, thinking through every possible outcome, you rose on your feet with determination.

  Many seasons passed since then, and in a blur you were the proud mother of a baby girl who now sat in front of you, playing with blocks of Lego. You watched as the five-year-old grabbed piece after piece to build a rocket, her mop of blonde hair too familiar. One last cruel joke from the man you tried so hard to forget, his daughter looked like a carbon copy of his, so you had to see the little face every day that reminded you of him. Never allowing you to completely forget the time you had spent together all those years ago now.

 You had moved out of the small apartment to a slightly bigger one, needing more space for all the things a baby brings into one’s life. You were still in the same area though, and a part of you was surprised at how well you kept your little secret. Some of your friends expressed their worries about your location, but after some thought you decided it would be too expensive to move over states. And after all, best hiding spots were always in plain sight anyways.

Those close to you knew who your daughter’s father was, but all of them made sure to never utter a word about it. Ransom Drysdale wasn’t really cut out for being a dad, it was just a simple fact. You knew too, and that was exactly why you had decided to keep him in the dark. Nonetheless, there was a part of you who wished one day, long into the future, he would get to meet his daughter.

You didn’t know how soon your wish would come true.

 It was a warm Sunday morning when you noticed you were out of milk and a trip to the grocery store was much needed. Your daughter, Mary, was thrilled at the idea and spent extra time making sure her dress had just the right amount of sparkles on it.

Maybe you had gotten too comfortable over the years, but you no longer felt the fear of running into Ransom every single time you left your house. But, you didn’t exactly hang out in the same circles even before you started dating him and become a mom. And there was also the fact that he most likely would be too busy to visit your local grocery store, instead he would be sleeping in after a night of drinking and maybe even bringing someone back to the whatever hotel he favoured at the moment. You pressed your lips together at that last thought. You had heard of him dating casually, seen pictures of him with different girls at different clubs, it was hard not to hear of Ransom Drysdale even when you did your best to avoid him. You shushed the part of you that was bothered with how fast he had gotten over you.

 “Don’t wander off.” You warned your excited daughter as you rolled the cart around. She gave you a smile, not straying from your side, watching you make progress with the list in your hands. As expected from a five-year-old though, she soon got bored.

 “Mommy,” Mary whined, tugging your hand, “Can I go and get cookies?” you noted the empty isle and the general quietness of the store before giving her a nod. You watched for another second as your daughter moved to the aisle across from you, skipping with the thought of cookies. You returned back to the long list.

–

  Ransom Drysdale took off his sunglasses as he entered the small store, wanting to grab something to snack on before he continued the drive for his grandfather’s house. He grimaced, not looking forward to seeing his family of hot messes, the hangover headache he was nursing not helping the matter at all. He sighed softly, making his way to find some cookies or something, to give him the energy he would need very much so in the coming hours.

  There he noticed a small blonde girl, trying to climb on the lower shelves with one hand reaching up, her tongue was out as she concentrated on her prize. Ransom snorted slightly before grabbing two packages of the chocolate chip cookies the small girl was so focused on getting. She looked up at him, Ransom stopped for a second as two very familiar eyes stared at him. He shook his head, many people had blue eyes.

“You’re gonna fall if you climb shelves.” He stretched out one of the packages. The girl just looked up at him, clearly hesitant. “Take it.” Ransom nodded.

“My mommy says not to talk to strangers, or get candy from them.” She retorted, still eyeing the cookies.

 “Your mommy sounds smart. So, should I put these back, or?” His lips curled a little at the corners as the girl grabbed them out of his hand. She muttered a thank you before running off. Ransom watched as she ran to the woman at the end of the other aisle, he had just turned around to leave when his head snapped back in recognition.

You were just about to cross of the last item when Mary came running with her favourite cookies clutched safely in her arms.

 “Mommy, I couldn’t reach so the nice man helped me.” She said, pointing before placing her precious cookies carefully in the cart. You raised your stare from your daughter’s figure to the man to thank him, and your eyes met with the one person you had been avoiding for the last six years. The can you were just about to place in the cart fell out of your hand, rolling away, sending Mary to catch it.

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out, your heart thumping in your chest loudly. Your eyes drifted to Mary who was so unaware of her mother’s panic, and then back to Ransom, standing only a few feet away. He eyed Mary too, the initial surprise in his eyes leaving its place for a stormy look.

 “So how old is she?” He asked, finally looking at you with squinted eyes as he put two and two together.

 “Ransom.” You breathed out and took a step towards him.

 “Answer me, Y/N.”

 “She’ll be six in a couple of months.” You gripped the metal cart, steadying yourself as you didn’t trust your feet.

  “Why the-” he exhaled sharply, his eyes drifting between you and Mary who know looked at him with big eyes that were too damn familiar, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Mommy?” Mary turned to you; her little face twisted with confusion.

“Ransom, please, not now. I,” you sighed, knowing there was no getting out of this one, “I promise I’ll tell you everything. But not now. Give me your phone, I’ll text you.” You babbled, words slipping out of your mouth as your hands shook ever so slightly, you held one out towards him.

“I have your number, if you didn’t change it.” He mumbled, crouching, his eyes never left Mary. You stared at him for a second, dumbfounded, you would think a man like Ransom would delete your number the second you slammed the door as you left, never to return again.

“What’s your name?” Mary’s eyes turned to you, searching your face. Upon seeing your small nod, she took a step towards the man.

“Mary.”

 “Nice to meet you, Mary.”

 You watched the whole thing unfold in front of you, your mouth slightly open. You had imagined this moment for so many times, over and over, yet the gentle expression on Ransom’s face was so… Foreign. Unexpected.

 “Come on, honey.” You scooped Mary up in your arms, unable to watch any more. Your gaze turned to Ransom. “I’ll text you.” You turned, feeling all sorts of emotions dance in your chest as you pushed the cart away with Mary, who turned her head back to where the man was still standing.

 Ransom stood there, watching the woman he had once loved, walk away with his daughter. His daughter. Family dinner would have to wait, as Ransom found it hard to walk away. He was still standing there, watching you place Mary into her car seat, when he felt something new in his heart. He gulped.

 Ransom Drysdale was a selfish asshole, but in that moment, he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his daughter.

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

My GOD I suck at titles. Might write a part 2 if anyone’s interested! Also, my inbox is open for requests!

[ayellowcurtain]

Could you do an elu fic where Eliott is coming out of a depressive episode and wants Lucas to make love to him inside him because he needs reassurance that Lucas still wants him and finds him attractive even after being down for weeks?

Lucas keeps waiting for the time he’ll be able to see Eliott again, it’s weird to not live under the same roof as him. Eliott explicitly asked Lucas to stay away and Lucas shouldn’t take it personally but it’s hard when the person you love is looking at you like you’re the most annoying thing, triggering them into getting worse.

So he’s waiting, trying not to think about how Eliott is doing every second of every day.

The second he recognizes the phone number being from Eliott’s parents’ place, Lucas picks up right away, afraid of what he might hear. His brain always thinks of the worst-case scenario.

“Lucas?”

“Hi! Hi, Mrs. Demaury. Is everything okay?” Lucas pauses the movie he was trying to watch on his computer to distract himself.

“Yes, yes, sweetheart. He’s...still in bed but he’s been asking of you so I was wondering if you wanted to come to see him…”

Lucas lies on his bed, pulling his covers over his head. That’s all he wants but he doesn’t want to cross Eliott’s boundaries. What he wants and what his mom understands he wants can be two very different things.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“Of course. I promise that if that wasn't the case I wouldn’t have called.” She sighs and Lucas finds a little bit of confidence in her tiredness. It’s horrible to think that but if she was overly optimistic he would feel that her call was just a big red flag, crossing Eliott’s wishes to get her way.  

“Okay. I’m on my way.”

Lucas closes his computer and rushes to put on some sneakers and a jacket, not carrying how terrible he looks with his comfortable sweatpants and an old hoodie.

He doesn’t care about the looks he gets while sitting on the bus, nervously tapping his feet constantly, biting his nails.

It feels like forever but it’s only been two weeks since they haven’t properly seen each other. Lucas thinks he might find a completely different Eliott even though it wasn’t that long.

“He’s taking a shower!” Lucas feels Eliott’s mom jumping a little during their welcoming hug, so excited with such a mundane task. And Lucas feels it too, looks at her, struggling to keep his tears. When Eliott is down, the very least thing he wants to do is take a shower. So this is great, amazing news.

“He knows that I was coming?” She nods her head, still smiling but clearly tired from stressing so much. Lucas steps aside, kicking his shoes off while she locks the door.

“I told him when I found him in the bathroom.”

“Do you think he’ll eat if I make us something?” Eliott loves Lucas’ food. He’s no chef but it’s one of their things, and Lucas is more than happy to cook for Eliott any day. And his mom is probably exhausted and in with no desire to cook - it runs in the family, the lack of interest for cooking - and she sighs so loudly, dropping her hands against her sides that it makes Lucas laugh.

“Oh my god. I know why he loves you so much.”

She puts her hand in his back and leads him to the kitchen, the fanciest kitchen Lucas has ever seen.

“Feel free to do anything you want, my love. The pantry is right behind that door,” she points to the big door right next to the industrial oven, “And I’m gonna get him some clean clothes.”

It feels like they’re planning a sad surprise, not sure how Eliott is but so excited he’s a little more responsive.

She runs around the place, grabbing clean clothes right out of the dryer, still warm and comfortable, and runs back down the hall, where Lucas can hear the water running, imagining Eliott having to lower his head to fit under the showerhead. Lucas misses him so much it feels like a first blind date that Eliott’s mom is setting for them.

He decides on some cheesy, delicious pasta that comforts him on his bad days. For once he can make it properly, using the expensive cheese he can’t afford but Eliott’s parents can. He makes almost the whole bag because he’s also starving and if Eliott doesn’t eat, his parents can enjoy it.

It’s so nerve recking that demands Lucas’ full attention, trying to find all the ingredients, trying to not let the pasta overcook and make it in the perfect time that when Eliott is done with his shower, the pasta will still be warm, the cheese will still be soft.

Suddenly, there’s a shadow next to him and he looks, finding the love of his life right there, leaning against the counter slowly like he’s sore from working out too much, unable to move normally.

“Hi…” Lucas tries not to be too loud but it’s hard when he’s this nervous to be around Eliott again, being seen by him.

Eliott smiles, his hair still damp and not brushed or styled at all, the tips falling forward a little bit, “Hello.”

“Are you hungry?” Eliott nods his head, looking at the pan, Lucas almost ready to turn it off and wait for it to cool down for a moment.

“A little bit.” His eyes are smaller than usual, a little bit red and puffy but Lucas doesn’t ask. Eliott wouldn’t be here, standing and talking to him if he was still angry. So Lucas does what he’s been desperate to do, holding the wooden spoon with his other hand so he can run his fingers through Eliott’s soft hair, putting it to the side so he can properly see his boyfriend completely. Eliott smiles and closes his eyes when Lucas slips his hand down, touching his still flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

Every time Eliott apologizes, his voice is so heavy with embarrassment, shame, and frustration that it makes Lucas want to hug him so tight and never let go. It makes him forget how hurt he was when they were fighting, every time.

“It’s okay.”

Eliott puts his hand over Lucas’ and slowly they put their hands down and Eliott moves on to do some other thing. Lucas follows him with his eyes to find his mom behind the island, setting the dining table for the three of them, clearly going a little too far with her limits but she’s looking at Eliott and she doesn’t find any extreme despair for sitting to eat with her and Lucas so she smiles and continues, always moving quickly.

They sit and talk while Lucas is putting his pasta in three bowls, two bigger than the third one and while he puts them all in front of each chair, Eliott’s mom rushes to the fridge to get them some cold water.

She acts how Lucas is doing with college and how is his mom doing and they make small talk over dinner, happy to hear Eliott when he makes a comment or two. Lucas starts gathering all the dirty dishes but she stops him, smiling.

“Please, don’t you worry about the dishes! You made us some delicious dinner, the least I can do is put this in the dishwasher and give you two the rest of the night off.”

Lucas looks at Eliott, worried he might be overstaying but Eliott smiles at him and gets up, grabbing Lucas’ hand so they can go to his bedroom.

He’s in awe that he’ll get to spend a few more hours with Eliott, probably watching some movie, with Eliott lying his head on Lucas’ chest but he’s caught by surprise when Eliott pulls him closer and kisses him the second they’re safe inside his bedroom, one arm going around Lucas’ waist, his long and often distracting fingers pressing against the small of his back under his shirt.

“Eliott…” Lucas hisses, feeling his whole body instantly respond, melting against Eliott’s touch, “We should...watch a movie.”

He tries to be rational but Eliott starts kissing his cheek, down his neck and it’s hard to say no to that, ever. Eliott lifts his shirt slowly and Lucas should keep his arms down, say they should just chill for tonight but he’s already shirtless, watching Eliott kiss his chest, his hand in the back of his neck.

Eliott walks them to the bed and Lucas lets himself be selfish, kissing his boyfriend until he gets out of breath.

He’s always with a one-second delay, still in awe that he has Eliott back, kissing his navel while pushing his pants down his thighs, carefully pushing down his calves. Lucas wasn’t expecting this eagerness and no matter how much he loves it, he can’t stop worrying that easily either.

“Eliott...Eliott.” He holds his face with both his hands, really needing a minute of actual conversation to make sure they should be doing this.

Eliott grunts, lying on top of him with his whole weight, pressing his forehead against Lucas’ chest before looking up. Lucas feels a little exposed being already naked with Eliott still wearing his soft sweatpants, lying in between his legs but it’s the type of exposure that feels like he’s in a rollercoaster, taking his breath away.

Eliott looks up at him and Lucas feels his own heart beating so fast, so happy to be with Eliott again, holding his hair to the side so they can see each other.

“I miss you. I miss us. I don’t want to lose you, for you to find someone better, who you’re attracted to and doesn’t give you more problems-”

Lucas pulls him up and presses their lips together.

“Don’t say that. You know it won’t happen.”

“It could. I’m a mess, Lucas, and you’re so fucking beautiful.”

He wants to say how he couldn’t care less about the rest of the world if Eliott is not with him but he’s faster, kissing Lucas again, pressing their hips together, pulling a moan out of Lucas.

“I want you, please. To feel that you still want me. No condoms.” Eliott pants against his lips and Lucas can’t control how it makes his back arch even more, looking to keep their bodies as close together as possible. He nods his head and rolls them in bed, getting rid of Eliott’s sweatpants and underwear too, needing to show him how crazy Lucas is about Eliott and only him.