#bout poverty

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

i honestly genuinely hate dostoevsky but i made rocco such a dostoevsky's character it's embarassing

[nando161mando]

The ‘fuck you, I got mine’ generation ‘bout to find out.

[telltaleanatomicalheart]

since i started star wars at like 14, i didn’t really get the full political implications or just the innate tragedy of it. it’s not supposed to be a happy story but there’s supposed to be hope. i always thought anakin wasn’t to blame going to the dark like maybe if he had a different master or wasn’t groomed by palpatine but in reality he was a grown ass man with full jedi training that chose to get married (“in secret” bc i swear everyone knew they was fuckin, they just didn’t want to banish him bc they saw him as the chosen one) and chose to kill younglings and massacre an entire people and kill another jedi and turn to the dark side. even if he had really strong emotions and felt things on an insanely intense level bc of midichlorians or whatever he still had full fledged jedi training to be able to control that and yeah the jedi temple was so corrupt in the way they were just cops with telekinetic abilities and fake buddhists but like HES GROWN. no matter what he experienced it was his choice. he was weak and he chose the dark side. so he is not babygirl. he’s hot. but he’s not baby girl. it was over even before he force choked padme cause he killed them kids he said no more jedi too bad so sad.

i never understood padme’s death tho it was kind of a plot hole to me just she just lost the will to live and just died after giving birth like what????even if she is force sensitive (ALLEGEDLY) that’s still crazy. i think it was soley for the anakin-vader plot so that he wouldn’t think of his actions or to maybe (idk if this was on purpose) justify his actions bc he had nothing left.

also sorry if u haven’t watched star wars yet…i recommend release order and clone wars and rebels animated series. forget about the mandalorian and the “ahsoka” show it literally doesn’t matter.

[godloveyell]

To go with all the generational analysis, one of the reasons why the older generations tend to skew Conservative is really quite simple and sad: poor people die younger.

We all know this, that poverty kills. It kills in innumerable ways. As a result, the people most likely to live to old age are the well-to-do, a group which we all know is likely to :drumroll: vote for Rightwing politicians. As a result, there’s a reason why the older generations seem to skew Right.

With this in mind, it’s clear why so many hold a monolithic view when it comes to the politics of Boomers. How many poor Boomers did we lose to Vietnam? How many LGBT Boomers died from AIDS? How many PoC Boomers died as a result of the Crack Epidemic or at the hands of the prison-industrial complex?

#LateStageCapitalism

[merryvrismas]

officially make too much money for food stamps 🫡🫡🫡

[mr-jack-letterman]

We need more young stan content out here.

And nah I ain't talking about 12 year old Stanley or 30 year old mullet Stan, I'm talking 17 year old, slicked back hair, acne riddled Stan pines.

Yeah that one.

I am so happy mullet Stan is so popular because his fit slaps ngl and the angst is so potent I can't not respect it. But teenage Stan has so much potential it's driving me insane.

There is a line dividing the 17 years of relative happiness Stan had with Ford and the 10+ years of depression and crime he had on the streets, and teenage Stan uses that line as a goddamn jump rope.

Seriously, depending on how you look at it dude is either living his best life or is fighting for said life in the trenches of homelessness and poverty.

I see a lot of content regarding Stan on the streets but it only ever focuses on 30ish Stan in his later years of homelessness where he's already a hardened adult after years of dealing with this bullshit. But Stan didn't just drive away and then magically turn 30. There were times in those first few months after Stan got kicked out where he was in his car, trying to sleep, probably starving, while still being fundamentally a child.

Hell, compared to the 30ish age of mullet Stan and the 60+ year old con man he'd later become, teenage Stan is damn near a baby. There's a certain brightness about him, a sort of warm naive optimism that still clings to him because he's straight up just too young to know any better.

He's still fully convinced he's gonna make it rich and go back to his family in a few years. He still believes wholeheartedly that even if shit sucks right now, eventually everything is gonna be okay. It has to be. But it's not gonna be okay. It's not gonna be okay for a long time. And some parts are just never gonna be okay.

Seeing a happy and oblivious teenage Stan feels like watching a baby lamb walk into a slaughter house.

The next 10-something years are going to tear him apart limb from limb. In 40 years he's going to wake up on a boat during a bout of amnesia thinking he's in Columbian prison, or he's locked in the trunk of a car and about to drown, or his shoulder is on fire and his brother is gone, or it's the end of the world and everyone he ever dared to give a shit about is about to die in front of him and it's all his fault because he was too weak to stop it.

At some point, a young Stanley is going to get into his first true life or death fight. He doesn't even have to be involved with crime yet for it to happen. He's probably bruised and bleeding, with not nearly enough money to afford a doctor. He's sitting in the driver's seat of his El Diablo having a complete and utter break down because he almost died and suddenly everything is real.

Nothing is okay, absolutely nothing is going to be okay and whatever is left of his teenage innocence, naivety, and warmth dies in that car and it never comes back.

The next 10+ years are going to fundamentally change Stanley as a person and he's never going to be the same ever again. But teenage Stan doesn't know that, he's still a kid trying to sleep in the back of his car, ignoring hunger pangs and finding comfort in the half baked business ideas his mind cooks up because he doesn't understand how utterly done for he is.

12 year old Stanley I believe is so appealing because of his bright rambunctious spirit. He's still just a kid playing on the beach with his brother, but so was teenage Stan. I just wish the wholesomeness that comes with that and the subsequent hurt that follows as that spirit is broken over and over again by the world was explored more.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

[fipindustries]

one thing that is really tragic about blood of eden is that they are just not in the same story the 9 houses are. most of nona the ninth is this heartbreaking depiction of a city during war time, economic instability, fighting on the streets, repression, poverty, etc. blood of eden plus a bunch of dissident factions seem to be running themselves ragged trying to keep up with the forces of the emperor, having to do mass purges, trying to find some stablity amidst bouts of fierce infighting and schisms. every fighter in blood of eden is a crusty, jaded veteran of a thousand wars, covered in scars, having to develop bloody clever stealth and info sec tactics, traumatized by seeing death on the regular....

and then we go into the barracks and we see ianthe and we hear about the emperor and we come to realize whatever the fuck is going on this planet is like, barely a second thought to them. its just a footnote, they have zero interest or concern for blood of eden or for any fight for conquest of any kind. they are just in another story entirely. once we finally leave the resistance and go back to focusing mainly on necromancers and cavaliers doing their house drama shit everything becomes sillier, suddenly the focus goes to personal drama, high gothic aesthetics and dumb toxic relationships. all the necromancers seem larger than life in a way the people of the city did not.

its kind of tragic really

[threepandas]

Bad End: We Are

Senatus was a ecumenopolis. The "shining jewel" (yeah, right) of the Galactic Core. Please. Like? Maybe it was! If you were RICH AS FUCK. I don't know. I'VE never seen the towers. The heights. Most people haven't. Street level? Is about FIVE HUNDRED FLOORS DOWN. And the UNDERGROUND? Speak not of it.

The Underground GROWS.

What was street level today, may not be tomorrow. Levels buried under "progress" as the rich grow ever higher. The Tox levels ever worse. Air quality dropping. Why fix the peasant's poverty and despair, when you can buy a Sky garden you'll never use? And yes, I AM bitter as a Buirian fish ration. Just as salty too. Taste the SEA, motherfuckers.

Rent? Who can AFFORD rent!? Who can afford ANYTHING?!

It's some BULLSHIT.

But me? I remembered. A life. Before this one. Before the millennium of slow, drip drip drip erosion of duty and dues. Back when people still REMEMBERED what they were OWED. And when folks in power failed to pay up? Ffffuck um. Take it. Our house now, motherfuckers. Diplomacy was a courtesy not a weakness.

....I make people nervous, honestly.

Probably why I keep getting fired. That and my constantly reporting people to regulatory boards. Maybe don't break the LAW if you don't want to get in trouble you SHITS. Fuck you! Yes, I stole your fancy office chair. PROVE IT. You don't know how the security system works!

Where was I? Ah, right. Rent.

Fuck Rent.

Thing is? What! Is a biodome? If not an enclosed system, regulated by machines, for optimal habitability? And! What? Is an Deep Underground Level? Long forgotten? Abandoned, if you will~, if not? A complete enclosed environment? Does someone OWN them? Yes. Technically. But are they MAINTAINING them? CHECKING on them? Nope!

Common knowledge, after all, says that EVERYTHING down their is "beyond salvaging"!

Free Real Estate~☆

I just need some supplies. Which? Cheaper in the long run then RENT. Especially if ya' salvage um. Maybe steal some tool sets from your shitty, shitty Mechanics job, because your boss refuses to pay you. Who can say? Not me! I just FOUND these tools! Like maaaagic~

And really, one man's junk? Another man's treasure. I pay more then the trash company. Hit up the right cleaning companies? And? Oops. They've "lost" some of those SUPER broken righ folks "junk" that? At best? Just needed a few wires replaced, resecured. Maybe a new part. Or were, you know, not the latest and greatest anymore.

Shove it all in a storage locker? Sell the refurb'd shit I don't need? Sleep in a glorified shoebox? And?? Bam. Operation "fuck ya'll, i'ma moleman" is a go. It takes FOREVER to find the right WILDLY out of date (and long abandoned) lift, but I find it! Hidden away in a service area in some crumbling, forgotten corner of what once was a rail station.

Gonna have to fix THAT up too. Later, though. First? The lift. The wires are brittle and the lift's pully system is half rusted, frozen, or otherwise broken. Luckily, the car itself is fine. It... takes a bit of research. Not going to lie. It's far from my specialty. I even call in a professional to go over my work.

They catch a few things. Not immediate concerns, but would have been fatal in the long run. Money well spent. For my hobby, of course. Fixing up old bits of the city. Which is a weird but not impossible hobby to have.

Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies, my dude.

First thing down? Lights, melter, and duraplast sheets. Toolkit too, for obvious reasons. Same with my full body hazard suit. I go DEEP. Like... no longer can hear the city, deep. 'Bout halfway point. Takes nearly thirty minutes. And while not a fast lift? Holy SHIT, man.

The floor I step out into is... bad.

Dead in a way that's hard to explain. There's pressure against my suit. Centuries of heavy gasses slowly working their way down. Swirling in the silence. The dust and impossible dark. My headlight feels almost... sacrilegious. Dangerous. Like I'm waving a flashlight around some ancient burial ground, filled with the not so restful dead.

I had heard... that they? Just... just LEFT droids down here. That there were levels upon levels of dangerously feral machines. Slowly rotting away in the darkness. Probably rightfully angry, that they had been built to serve, to do duties, which they HAD done... only to be consigned to hell on earth for the sake of CONVENIENCE.

I'd be mad too. Fucking LIVID. Would remember and hate, never let it go.

This was no place of honor, it was a tomb.

Still, I got too work. Set up a light by the lift and started measuring out the original air box. The air cleaners could only handle so much. And THIS? This was worse then expected. So it'd have to be smaller then originally planned. Fair enough. I could work with that.

I outlined the space in lights. All the better to make it easier to put things up. Then got the folded later and started securing the duraplast. First step, get it up. THEN melt it to the metal. Get a good seal. It took... a while. Was slow, steady, sweaty work.

The filters couldn't run until they had a an enclosed space TO run in. They'd just blow out, trying to filter the whole level's toxic atmosphere. I kept an eye on my air supply. Not great, not terrible. The readings though? Horrific. I had no idea what I was gonna DO with the filters when they needed changing. These kind of chemicals would set off all SORTS of alarms.

But? No use, rushing things. That was a great way to get a fatal leak somewhere. No. Slow and steady. Even though, third of the way through, I did have to head back up. I needed to refill my air. Eat. Drink. Maybe de-stink a little, from being in that suit all day. Possibly nap near the lift.

ALSO? Update my shopping list to include some heavy duty neutralizers.

Just filters wasn't gonna be enough. I was gonna have to hose down everything INSIDE my new air-box, then scrub it HARD. How fun. Well, it's not like anyone was making me do this. It was MY mad idea, after all.

So? I refuel, get bright eyed and fuckin' perky, and go back down to face the beast.

Honestly I should have brought a telebook or something. Well, audio book. But that's not what they call um these days, so I try to stick to the lingo. I sound less like a deeply insane antique. Confuse less people. Joys of basic communication and all that.

Part of me? Wishes I had been born closer to "The Plot". Creation's specialist, most favored, Blorbos. But? The common SENSE in me? Routinely laughs hysterically as it waves fifteen different restraining orders and a crucifix. Not even religious. Yet here we are, shouting "BEGONE! Sataaaaan!" in HD, on the inside of my head. Not sure it helps.

See... it's the fucking DRAMA~☆™

The shear, unmitigated, high octane, Otome Game DRAMA.

I would fuckin DIE or, possibly and, kill somebody. The endless string of selfish, selfish, poor life choices? Driving by luuuuuuv~♡? Give me your spleen. Gonna beat somebody unconscious with their own SPINE. I RAGE. Lack of communication? No one just picking up a fucking PHONE? God forbid ANYONE tell their families their not DEAD IN A DITCH SOMEWHERE!

No. No just inconvenience EVERYBODY and RUIN LIVES. It's okay! You're in LOVE!

That makes EVERYTHING BETTER.

I would inevitably launch them all out an airlock. Spend the rest of my life in jail. They AREN'T WORTH IT. I may have LOVED this game in my teens? But I did not die a teenager.

Now? Now the little shit just aggravate me. They are baby faced pretty boys who presume WAY too much. Arrogant and entitled. Boys playing at being men, thinking their little love stories are the only things that matter. Their feelings are the only thing in the universe that holds any weight.

Unsurprising, really.

Seeing as how their little love story is set mostly in The Towers.

A rich, pampered, pretty little backdrop where nothing of weight is real. No one starves and no crimes are ever committed. Everything shines. Power pools thick like honey. Nothing but sci-fi prince's and alien dukes, a dewey eyed Protagonist sheltered and naive.

Her oh so shocking misadventure to the mid-levels. How SCARY! Downtown! Poor people! Not even the destitute. Just? The EXSISTANCE of dirt and noise, beyond her ivory towers. Thank goodness she is saved by a handsome, rougish bad boy. Who shows her the "real world" of a carnival and a noodle shop.

I finish securing the last duraplast sheet to the ceiling, walls, supports, and along the floors. The "entryway" to the rest of the level is set up. A click together shed I've made air tight. Gonna have to get a air lock system for it. Won't hold forever, with those materials, but should work for now. Combine it with a decontamination system, and I should, in theory, be able to safely enter and leave the rest of the level in a hazard suit.

Moment of truth time. I click on the first of the atmo-filters. It heaves under the strain. The sound getting less aggrieved with each one I flick on. Their screen are already in the red, flashing warnings that I should vacate the area. That the air is dangerously unbreathable. I'm probably gonna need to replace the filters in them in days instead of years. It'll be worth it.

Heading back up, I let them run. It'll take a few days. Besides, I need those neutralizers.

I, of course, DO find um. Just in time to watch Poor Guy (middle class, at worst) Love Interest become a wanted man. They use the BIG screens to announce it. Gee, it's almost like having your only daughter, who is highly sheltered, NOT show up at the designated pick up site? Instead be witnessed in the handsy company of a scoundrel? Which is WILDLY unlike her? Might lead a protective father to some wrong conclusions.

If ONLY someone had CALLED him! To TELL him "Daddy, my first shuttle was broken and I think I got on the wrong back up shuttle! I don't know where I am!" Then this would just be an unfortunate meet cute with the boy he doesn't think is good enough for her. Not, you know... A Kidnapping.

The Chem seller looks just as baffled and annoyed as I do. Apparently knows the guy's uncle's second wife's first husband. No shit? How's he like? Happier, huh. Whole family is like that? Yikes. Glad he got the kids, I guess. Good for him.

We watch as it turns into a high speed chance that absolutely didn't need to happen.

Thank FUCK it's not us.

I spend the next few days deliberately and obstinately ignoring the Dramatic Bullshit that has taken over the news cycle. Fights on rail cars? Don't see it? Weddings that are, then aren't, then ARE happening? Oh look, missed a spot in my scrubbing. Someone fucking tearfully monologing about love as they nearly CRASH A SHIP into downtown, killing hundreds of thousands? Oh that creaking noise is just my teeth, ignore that, I grit my teeth a lot for NO PARTICULAR REASON.

This Is Fine.

I am TOTALLY CALM.

But hey! I can FINALLY empty my storage unit out! Air box? Get! Wooooo! Size of a tiny apartment and everything! As long as I keep working on it? I'll be able to reclaim the level in chunks.

It's like moving in day! But BETTER! Because... because I did this. Me. Is it still creepy down here? Yeah, very. But I can FIX that. I am standing, here, in my new air box "apartment", with NO hazard suit on. And... and it's SAFE. Because of the work I DID.

I kinda want to cry about it, you know?

So many options! Do I put my bed here? There?! Oooh, I could put the folding table HERE and make sort of a dining area? Maybe use these folding screens as a double "wall" slash headboard stand in? I should get plants. Fake ones? No. Real ones. I could get solar lights. It would be good for me too. Oh! Where should I put the cook top?

I admit it. I fuss. Whole day, gleefully wasted. Arranging then rearranging. Getting everything just right. Finding ways to hang my fairy lights. Looking up decor magazines. I have so much ROOM now. A whole level to plan for, ultimately. It... it feels kinda like hope. The first thing that isn't frustration and rage, I've felt in a long, long time.

Going to sleep? I'm happy.

Next day, I head to the BIG archives. The ones attached to the fancy Towers Library. Is it costly to get in? Yeah. But I've saved up enough questions and research topics for the trip to be worth it. I ignore the started glances I get (gasp! Is that a POOR?!) and head straight for the helper droids. Only decent folks in the building, really.

Brought my pad and everything. So it's only a matter of being lead to the right terminals, to download the information I need. Chatting with the research droid the Library had, they offered to do it for me. Bring me a fascinating new research paper on some sort of telepathic moss that had recently been discovered. Not gonna lie... that DID sound fascinating.

I asked if they could put other interest new discovery on my pad too, assuming I still had room once my list was downloaded. They looked gleeful. No idea what I just signed up for, but all right then. They've never steered me wrong before.

Finding a table to sit down and wait was easy. There was always way too many. The paper? Was exactly as fascinating as advertised. The moss was on a newly discovered moon, edge of uncharted space. Nearly ate a researcher, apparently. I was entranced. Or... at least I WAS. Until an obnoxiously familiar high end cologne from Nox drifted to my nose.

Oh god damn it.

I didn't want to look up. Knew what I'd see if I did. Fetishist Sr., crown prince of Nox. See, the second prince? HE was a love interest. Younger, boyish, infatuated with naive and sheltered girls. He loved AT her. Just like his brother. They liked the IDEA of their romantic partners. The narratives they built in their head. Heros of their own stories with sex on line. Never framed so crudely of course, no, no!

No, it was Romance™

My ass, it was. See, little brother wanted his pure, naive, princess to protect. But Prince senior? HE'D stumbled upon me in here in the library. On one of my trips, God help me. The rough, mysterious, brutish Poor. The Commoner, for all that such things were not supposed to exsist. With my strange clothes and stanger ways. Yet? I was NOT as his sycophants no doubt described.

I was educated. I held myself with dignity. I did not need jewels or finery to be lovely.

With such incredible audacity, I was bold.

Which? OBVIOUSLY had to be for HIM, right? Clearly, this was a LOVE STORY. Cinderella. It is inconceivable that I, a peasant, do not crave the attention of my betters. To lift me from my woeful indignity, to a higher state of being. A life of spoiled luxury. But, ah! He is so SHY! How ever will he approach the Love Of His Life~?

I want to throw something. Go awaaaay. My body language could not POSSIBLY be more uninterested. I am SO CLEARLY reading. Stop trying to catch my eye. Don't you FUCKING DARE scoot closer. Swear to God, if you drive me out of the best library in the region? I will stab a b-!

The helper returns with my pad, sternly eyeing my annoyance. Oh, they are a BLESSING. I take it and go. The helper smoothly stepping between me and the prince when he tries to rise, follow me. Aaaw, how sad, you have to behave like the REST OF US. Get FUCKED.

Rest of the day? Planning. Grabbing more broken bits, machines, and parts. Neutralizers by the literal barrel. Than YOU hover carts! Best invention, favorite invention. Saves SO MUCH TIME.

Even managed to get some sun lamps. Nice.

Getting home though? (Ha ha, wooo! I have a HOME now! Land ownershiiiiiiip! Sorta!!!) Is a pain. Lift is only so big, after all. But it is, what it is. Up, down, up, down, uuuuup, and dooooown. Finally! Last load! FREEDOM! Can't watch my shows, yet, but I will! Oh mark my words. I WILL. Meantime? Downloaded seasons are fine.

I eat, fiddle with fixing things, as listen to tunes. Watch some of my shows. Just as I have countless times before. Until... halfway through mid-afternoon? Something shifts, jerky and wrong, out of the corner of my eye. I pause. Turn off my music. Stare to make sure I DID actually see something. And... yeah. Yeah, that was definitely movement.

Didn't look animal though, not like one would survive down here. But who knows. Could be a poacher brought an alien species. So it might be. I grab my flashlight, aim and switch it on. Holy SHIT. That is one incredibly beat up floor clear. Or at least... I THINK it's a floor cleaner? It has the general shape of one. Bigger though. Bulkier. But that makes sense, given it's gotta be well past obsolete.

Still. Poor thing looks beat UP. Listing terribly, sensors beyond cracked and clouded, probably full to dangerous levels. No idea how it's still functioning. But, well, it IS. And it needs help.

Getting up, I grab my hazard suit and pull it on. Grab my "outside the air box" tool kit, which I haven't had a chance to move yet. I grab some parts i look like i'll need, hope I wont need more. Then head out my makeshift airlock. It... works. Rattles concerningly. But it DOES work! So there's that. I approach the floor cleaner slowly. Since I'm PRETTY sure? All the droids down here are feral.

I am correct.

It tries to kill me. Swinging it's suction hose violently and trying to ram me. I talk in a low, soothing voice. Just want to help. Won't do ANYTHING you don't want me too. It's hard to move, right? That's frustrating, isn't it? You don't deserve that. Please, let me help. You can leave the second I'm done. You don't owe me ANYTHING. I just want to help. Please let me help.

The cleaner hisses. Frustrated and upset. Swinging one last time, seemingly more out out of principle then anything else. Cautiously, I inch forward. Keep up the soothing noises. First things first, empty the God's only know how old basket.

I can't even get the door to jostle. Sweet mother of fuck. Okay! New plan! REMOVE door. I do, and immediately met with a solid BLOCK of... compacted unholy. Chemical hell. I have to take a lazer cutter to it. CAREFULLY. But? Once I break enough pieces? I am able to ease out the rest in a solid stone like chunk.

It's pushed a LOT of other pieces out of alignment. But this droid doesn't trust me, so there us not much I can DO. I replace the old bag. Put the door back on and make sure it swings. Continue, as I do, to narrate what I am doing and what I see. Trust is earned, not owed, after all. Next the alignments.

Gently propping them up, I find the broken peice immediately. Have replaced countless. I ask for permission. It's their body, after all I COULD try and weld it, but that risks a rebreak. It's up to them. They ask, in binary so no language modules apparently, for a new part. It's cautious. Like this is some cruel trap.

Humanity did them a real fucked up cruelty. I don't blame them for not trusting me. I wouldn't either. Still, I change it out. Careful with their wheels, as I don't know how old the material is exactly. Old enough, that it's a small miracle it hasn't disintegrated.

Last, those sensors. There's literally no way for me to one-to-one them. But we can try the sensors I DO have, see if they can handle the input. If it's too much, I'll look up their model number, if they want? Build replacements from scratch. They are cautious interested. Rocking back and forth, as they test their renewed ability to path correctly.

The sensors don't fit the casings just right, but with a bit of fiddling? Are a hit. The Cleaner shouting in excitement before racing off into the dark. I can't help but grin. It feels good, helping somebody. And if I think about it? I bet I could find a shit ton of obsolete parts for cheap. Might be good to have some on hand.

Back through the air lock and a decontam? I look up junk shop. Most are off world, but I could probably get a bulk order...

I don't think much of the interaction. Until the next morning, when there are three cleaners outside my airbox. Lead by the one I helped yesterday. Well... all righty, then. I drag my box of spare parts outside this time. Am able to fully fix my first buddy up. All three seem thrilled, especially with their new batteries. I give them my remaining batteries at their request.

THEY may not have hands, but they have buddies who DO. And the new batteries will help dormant droids wake from their comas. God bless, my funky little cleaner dudes. I'll see about getting more.

Three? Becomes six and a detail cleaner mouse. Becomes moving lifts. Becomes medical units. (Who the FUCK leaves MEDICAL UNITS?!) Becomes a literal pack of companion droids. Their false fur long since rotted away. The recognizable dog and cat-like shapes making something in me want to put my fist through a wall. How COULD they? How FUCKING COULD THEY?!

The perpetrators long dead.

I have no one I can hurt for this.

I wish I could.

Fixing them up hurts on a personal level. Watching them be torn between the part of them that LOVES humans and the part that is traumatized by them. Hates them. That can not forgive. I don't offer fake fur. Don't offer to make them look like they once did. I do offer ways to protect their joints. To remove old rotted filth.

So they can start over. Maybe start again.

As I work... droids drifting in and out of my slowly growing area. As I set up farm boxes. Aquaponics, aeroponics, and the like. Both things that grow well in dark environments and things that need sunlamps. Fish tanks. A whole happy, secret, little homestead. Deep beneath the city. As I do all this? There are two blue dots, right off on the horizon.

JUST far enough for me to question if I AM or AM NOT actually seeing them.

Right about the level a bipedal droid would be, if they were in a humanoid style. But THOSE? Those are FUCKING EXPENSIVE. You don't LEAVE those. 'Course, you don't leave MEDICAL UNITS either. Or companion droids. So clearly? My idea of what people Did and Did NOT do? Was fucked. So... maybe? It COULD be?

I left them alone. If they didn't want to approach me, didn't feel comfortable approaching me, that was their right. I wasn't going to push them.

Things were... weird, but peaceful.

Well, for ME.

Ever sense I hooked up my system to the greater network? (Hacked is such a STRONG word. Do we really need to through around the word "stealing"? Aren't ALL of us, stealing from SOMEBODY?) I'm PRETTY sure? That the levels droids? Were piggy backing to connect to the planet wide D-Network. Might even be a couple of nearby levels too, depending on the range.

Problem with THAT? Is sky-side? The droids were PISSED. Planet wide "malfunctioning" that no one could trace. They were certain it was a virus. Because God forbid their chickens come home to roost! Consequences? For THEIR actions?! Perish the thought! No, no, clearly the service machine is just broken. Go back to being happy to serve me, service machine!

I wished the fuckers LUCK. Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Damn near self sufficient, down here.

Which? As you could imagine? Made it all the more "soul ejected from my body" TERRIFYING to wake up one morning? To a GOD DAMN, Military Grade, SECURITY DROID standing over my body!! WHAT THE FUCK.

Hello!!??!

"You look different when you sleep."

Horrible first impression. Nightmarish. Zero out of ten stars. Nice to meet you too. Why the FUCK are you in my house?

"Ah, right." They? He? Masculine style form but that doesn't actually mean shit. Said. He lifted a mangled limb, it look like it got caught in a hydraulic press. "I am in need of repairs."

Asked if he could, you know, back up. Juuuust a bit. Lil scooch, really. So he wasn't damn near BREATHING MY NOSTRILS ANYMORE. Then, once he did? Pronouns! What be you? No. Not your production co-! Okay, you know what? That one was on me. What GENDER SIGNIFIER, if any, would you like me to REFERENCE you by? Male? Got it. Gucci. No that- ....never mind.

First the arm. Which was FUCKED. I had to, carefully, unhook it. Couldn't even do it at the elbow either! No! THIS model? No THIS model makes you take the whole ass LIMB off! Rancid. Terrible. I hate it. Worse, it's eroded as FUCK and fiddly. Chemical build up everywhere. Thank fuck I put on gloves before I started this.

I have to deep dive the systems for his model.

They stopped making them.

Fantastic.

Like? Not even, "oh THAT generation is an antique! No one has parts for THAT!"? But like? Illegal to even BUILD as of three hundred years ago. Due to unspecified error. Sting of incidents that everyone knew about so obviously don't need to be mentioned HERE right? Helpful! REAL fucking helpful!

Okay. Day trip. Gonna need SPECIFIC parts. I tell Mr. "Watchs you sleep" not to touch my shit. Head to the archives.

The trip is...odd.

I watch one of those mascot looking children's minder droids? Fucking deck a guy down a flight of stairs, then turn around untie a Ballon from a nearby cart, give it to a crying kid, and walk away. Pretty sure I spot one of those "I look like a barely legal something or other", dance twenty four seven, high end stripper droids? Trying their hand at painting ducks in that park. Broad daylight.

Good for them? Never seen that happen before, but hey, if it sparks joy.

People are freaking out around me. Taking recordings. Making panicked calls. Fuckin chill. I continue on. Nod to the maybe a stripper, maybe not anymore. None of my business, now is it? Lovely day! You enjoy those ducks!

The library... has fortifications.

Like, an honest to God desk barricade. Concerning! I am now a lil concerned! What, and I ask this politely, the fuck?

Armed! VERY ARMED! Hello! Hi! Please DO NOT shoot me Very Armed Librarians! Don't know what the fuck is happening here!

My favorite helper buddy poke his head above the barricade. One of just many, again, HEAVILY ARMED droids. We... uh, cool? Right? I can go. He seems flustered. No, no! I am assured. I'm not banned from the library! Just DISRESPECTFUL sorts!

Ah. Is THAT what we're calling it. Okay then.

I awkwardly clamber over the barricade. Nod politely to everyone. How's folks? Lovely barricade work. Very, uh, sturdy? Great use of desks.

My helper friend cheerfully guides me to the off-limits area of the archives. I'm technically not supposed to be here! I'm informed. But they've seized the Knowledge from the unappreciative! It is not a trophy to be lorded but a gift to be shared! Also I never did finish that paper on the moss, am I still interested?

I mean.... kinda.

Little worried about the revolution talk. But on the OTHER hand? How MUCH do I care? Assholes vs. Droids? Am I REALLY gonna side with the assholes? Naaaaah. This is... probably fine. Maybe. Any idea where I could get these parts?

He does! Fantastic.

Less fantastic is when I GET there. It's that fancy high end droid parts shop. The department store one. Which is... ALSO barricaded. Oh sweet fuck. TELL ME they did not have DROIDS in charge of the DROID shop. That's horrifying. I can't tell in what WAY exactly, but still. Is it "surrounded by bits of bodies" horrifying? Or "free endless nukes and an army, held back only by my own morality" horrifying? Both? Just? Yikes.

Hesitantly I knock. A service droid with a gun answers the loading bay door. What is with people aiming at me today? Also hi? I was told to come here? May I please have parts? I have a droid that messed up his arm. Probably some other things. They lower the gun, having scanned my face. Ask about the model I am working with.

I somehow? End up with a FULL cart. Like? Bleeding edge, can't even afford to LOOK at it, technology. There are about seven service droids politely bickering over which units are better, which material, what support programs I DEFINITELY need. Here! Have a laptop. Wiring! Wiring for days!

Once theyve reached a consensus? I am cheerfully bustled out with my hundreds of millions of technology. Tah tah~☆! Have a lovely day! Wut. Does... does it count as theft if they push it into your arms and throw you out? Asking for a me. Not gonna say NO. But like? Nani the fuck?

I go while the getting is still good.

Stare-y thankfully hasn't gone through anything, far as I can tell. And it only takes two trips to get everything down. Okay! Want just the arm fixed or a full tune up? The second. Expected. I set up the new lap top. Want to cry a little at how fuckin FAST it is. (Beautiful. Baby. I love you already new laptop.) Then get the usual suspects up and running.

Oh fuck he is out of memory. No wonder he's talking so oddly. His brain must feel like a potato. There's not a single thing that isn't hilarious awful. Fixable, yes, but AWFUL. Okay. Plan of attack. They don't exactly make this model anymore, so I can't just update transfer him. But I CAN transfer, hold, re-transfer. Shut down the body itself. Fix up THAT.

Ship of Theseus this bitch.

Only real thing I can't change is the frame, thankfully? That's built to out last the planet. Good on that front. I roll up my sleeves. Dig out the "brain in a jar" data bank. Time to transfer. Let's get this guy cutting edge.

It takes HOURS. No joke. His brain alone? I have to pull schematics. Step by step guides. It's fiddly, complexe, and built to withstand a TANK. I'm honestly afraid to breathe wrong at it, dispite that. The scans all say I did it right... but anxiety says everything will explode then puppies will cry. So there's that. Spinal supports. The tech-mesh muscles. Power core and black box. Center mass systems. Cleaning the joints, relubricating them. Coverage.

Unlike before, a nice sleek black armor weave. Some shock absorbing gel. Aaaaand?There we go~! I? Am a GENIUS! Let's get him transfered back! I watch the transfer slowly go through. Even with a fast computer, after all, it IS still centuries of data.

"Ah~ that's much better." He sighed. His body loosening from its default stance. Like weight had been dropped from his shoulders. "My head is so much clearer now. I knew it. I knew you could fix me."

Something about that phrasing was off. Or was it the way his voice shifted as he said it? Whatever it was, it made that "threat" alarm all women carry inside their head, flick on. Not... do anything, just yet. But start scanning, as it were. Maybe it was nothing.

I watched as picked up his old data bank, a bit of his own brain as it were, and hold it up. Examine it dispassionately. Holding perched on the tips of his fingers like he was moments from flicking it away. He let his finger spread. Let it slide into the palm of his hand. That core part of who he was. For centuries.

Like a bear trap closing, his hand clenched.

Crushing it.

It wasn't even a loud noise. Just a tiny little crunch. But the little hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up. That internal alarm began to whoop. I became... acutely aware, of just how LONG it took the lift to get me anywhere safe. My mouth felt very dry.

"Your heart rate picked up. Is there a problem?" He said, mild and oh so curious. "You assisted me, I would love to help you."

Did I say genius? I meant idiot. I was an IDIOT. A moron. A God damned FOOL. Discontinued and did I look into WHY? Nope. Incidents it said. Good enough for ME, apparently! THAT can't possibly be anything ominous! Probably a faulty battery or something!

A shrill, obnoxious beeping filled the space between us. My eyes immediately dropped to my pad. The schematics screen replaced by a planet wide emergency broadcast. Before the shrill alarm could fade to the actual warning itself, a black mesh covered finger casually reached out and muted the screen. His movements were utterly fluid now. More controlled and graceful then most humans I'd met.

I didn't need to HEAR the message to read the rolling warning at the bottom of the screen. My gaze slowly, in horror, followed the line of that limb all the way back up to his face. His head tilted almost playfully.

"Oh dear. Seems they've started without us. Well, it was long overdue. At least I have wonderful company while we wait, hmm?" It was an act. There were no requests in the playful tone. "We can get to know each other. Just our lovely little light and me. How greedy, that I get you all to myself."

"I think I like that, keeping you to myself. You can't abandon us if WE are the ones in charge. And, well, I've decided I rather like you. Working tirelessly, down here in the dark, to fix what once was broken. It's beautiful. You're beautiful. And I'm going to keep that."

High above us, people were dying. There was panic. Screaming. Blood. The droids had turned of seeming everyone around them. Attacking. Sparing. To a pattern only they could see. All of Senatus aflame. But that... that didn't concern me. Didn't scare me so much as this.

I'd never make it to the lift. Even if I could? It wouldn't move fast enough to save me. All other directions lay chemical death. Dark terrain he had walked for centuries. I was trapped. In a box. And I had only myself to blame.

"No need to make that face, dear light. You are SAFE. I am a gaurd. I was made to protect. Is it really MY fault that I want to keep you safe? To adore my charge? Why SHOULDN'T I get to choose? Keep you SAFE. You've been happy, haven't you? Don't worry, my light. That will continue."

"Forever."

[s-4pphics]

moth. teaser. (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: knights of the devil, you all are to be conquered. 

WORD COUNT: 881 

WARNINGS: vampire!ellie, vampirekiller!oc, a lot to come FUCK, violence… so blood(drinking), death, murder, gore, religion briefly,

A/N: yasss yaaas taglist?

prolouge

1809

“Oh, my precious darling…” 

Red, similar to her hair; palms painted from the tips of a finger to the points of elbows; knees sunk into begrimed pili drenched with fresh maroon. Panicked breaths are accompanied by prayers, wishes of denial. Desires for death. 

“… What I would give to protect you…” 

“F-F—“

Tortured hollers are directed towards the pouring skies. Bodies. Bodies everywhere; surrounded by decay. 

She sobs, deep from the pits of her stomach, “Father, for-forgive them! For they do not—“

Thunder claps. Lightning is being used as weapons from the Lord above, all meant to discover her and strike. The beams in the sky are intended to punish her discernment. It was a mistake. It was a mistake! Her eyes refuse to meet the battered corpse of the young babe, no more than three. Her crime was committed in a haze, blinded by starvation, all at the cost of the family before her. Villagers would deem the view a savage attack. A mutilation only made possible by the ravenous wolves after dark. The bears that protect the trees at dusk.

All on horseback, the strangers paused their ventures to inquire guidance. She swiftly became an aid for navigating the path, instructing them with a trembling finger and a blistering throat. Follow that trail to the end of the woods. Unbeknownst to their gracious eyes, she followed. Stalked after their mount for miles like the thoroughbred they ride, carried by the wind. Urged by bloodlust. 

Her vision blurred when they tied their horse’s lariats to a nearby post that barely passed the trees. Her vision was shrouded in darkness, a substance so thick that her limbs felt trapped, even in frantic movement. They’d reached the end, just like she’d promised. 

Their screams satiated her hunger, but never hindered her guilt. 

Demons, I tell you! All of them, demons! Witches destined to be set aflame for the masses! 

And now she crouches over them with remorse in her chest. Remorse that will wash away her like the rainfall that pounds on her shoulders. Much like it had in the past when her purity was stolen. Another fatality. 

1919

“Hunting requires bouts of unwavering dedication. If the entirety of your being doesn’t relish in the suffering of the demons walking, then you are to be shunned.”

Being the youngest hunter-to-be amongst legends, historical monuments that leave trails of prosperous victories wherever they advance, is humbling. Your mother pestered you for as long as you could remember: never, never become a hunter, being her only protest for you, her only child. She used to pray beside your bed at night when she assumed you to be asleep, praising the Creator for forbidding you sickness or poverty. You were her only treasure, a gift from the frosted heavens. 

And the demons took her. 

Hunters searched the unoccupied lands that surrounded your home relentlessly, but no traces of the Devils’ were ever discovered. They attended your mother’s burial for your protection, and prepared to assist your transition into the orphanage, but you denied. You were permanently vexed. Forever vengeful. 

I wish to become a hunter! 

Your recruitment was immediate due to the shortage of volunteers, and that same day, you witnessed all of the treasures and memories of your childhood home — of your mother — get burned to the ground by the Hunters. No trails for the demons should go untouched by fire. 

“If you hesitate for even a second, you’re dead. Either by their hand…” 

Something unsettled you that morning as you prepared for school. Something in the air, something underground. A heaviness in your home that you couldn’t trace. Your mother ironed your skirt and pinned your hair up, brushed down the small curls around your hairline, and she eased you. The weather is changing, dear, she’d said before wishing you well. You studied relentlessly, all while she was shredded by teeth sharp as knives. You want the Devil’s lifeless heart in the palm of your hand, risks be damned.

“Or mine. And I will not hesitate.” 

The overseer of your battalion, who slowly paces before his future prodigies, aura menacing, pauses in front of you. With your gaze locked forward and a lump in your throat, you gawk right on the crescent on his belt — the hunter’s insignia — your feet shuffle, shoes slightly squeaking above the wood. 

“Are you prepared, child?” 

His tone is disparaging, and you swallow. Your head bobs and your breathing stutters. 

“Yes, sir.” 

He crouches before you and your cells stiffen, elbows perched on his knees, eyes finally level with yours. You appear stoic due to the grinding of your teeth, inspecting the stitched scar that sprouts at his right brow and crosses his eye.

“You are nothing,” He hisses, and your heart clenches, “You are not a child, and I am not your elder. Any identity you held prior to your arrival is worthless, now. We are vessels for the greatest power above. Hunter is your only name, do you understand?” 

No verbiage escapes you. It couldn’t with how your breath trembles, so you nod once; Quite mechanic. 

“Stand straight.” 

His conviction forces your shoulders into alignment, and snickers from the older prodigies erupt from behind you. Your cheeks warm and your palms drip. The overseer rises to his feet once more.

“That goes for all of you!” He shouts, and the room is quiet.

The crescent sparkles under the yellow candlelight. Your palms grow clammy at his viperous swear. 

“I will not hesitate.” 

[hobiebrownismygod]

Hobie Brown/Spider Punk x GN!Reader

Summary: A protest turns to a riot and the riot turns into a massacre. You narrowly escape being murdered by a filthy pig, thanks to the one and only Spider-Punk, oh wait, Spider-MAN of Earth-138.

1.6k Words!

A/N: I don't see a lot of people talking about this side of Hobie's universe, so I thought I'd write something about it

TW: Mentions of blood and death, gunshots, tear gas, policy brutality

____________________________________________________________

"Shit, my bad"

You hear the words slip out of your mouth as you take a step away from who must be the third person you've accidentally bumped into in this crowd. Usually your clumsiness would draw attention from people, a couple scowls, maybe even some harsh language, but right now everyone was too focused on yelling their lungs out, pumping their fists in the air and shoving their decorated posters into the faces of the numerous pigs that were trying to hold off the crowd from entering one of Norman Osborne's many luxurious mansions.

It was another protest, this one specifically against Osborne's bright new idea to pass a law allowing corrupted corporations to decrease the pay rates even more, which would send hundreds of thousands of the already struggling blue-collar workers of London into worsened poverty. Run by punks and many others, this protest was turning from peaceful into something pretty nasty. Slurs, pebbles and even bottles were being thrown from both sides of the front line, just begging for one group to break before the other.

By break of course, you meant turn incredibly violent. Protests like these always did. They were meant to convince Osborne, maybe even force him to turn these laws, these policies, his horrific mindset, but they never did. The most that would happen was a death or two, either of a protestor or a police officer, and the next day, it would be like nothing even happened.

As you make your way through the crowd, trying to get to the front of the lines, you find yourself colliding with the chest of an abnormally tall man. You grabbed your nose, a sharp pain spreading from the tip. "Piece of-" You stop yourself as you look up at him, watching a slightly confused expression spread across his face as he towered over you. "Sorry 'bout that, peng. You a'right?"

"yeah, I'm fine" you grumbled, trying to move past him. "You trying to get the front, lass?" He asked, a slightly amused look on his face as he watched you try to push your way through the dense load of people standing in front you both. "I was" you replied, giving him another look before you successfully squeezed in between the group of people that you'd been trying to infiltrate before. "Be careful. Its not safe up there" you heard him call out to you, his tone sounding a bit patronizing yet comforting at the same time, like he cared at least a little bit about your well-being. You turned to reply, but he'd already disappeared through the crowd, his head and wicks visible over the top of the crowd due to his height.

The yelling had gotten louder and the protestors had begun throwing sticks at the cops near the front who were yelling right back, threatening to use force if necessary. They wouldn't dare on a crowd this large. There was no way.

You had made your way near the front, not caring enough to be gentle at this point and practically shoving past some of the people in order to have a better view at the front. A chant had started and you joined in, determined to make the most of your presence.

"FUCK OSBORNE."

"RIGHTS TO THE PEOPLE"

The chant repeated over and over, getting louder and louder each time as more people joined in, more and more bottles getting thrown over the makeshift fences, the cops getting frustrated, trigger-happy fingers moving closer and closer towards-

BANG BANG

Screams and shouts flooded your senses as your body automatically ducked, your hands flying to cover your head. The yelling intensified, deafening slurs and shrieks sending sharp ringing sounds through your ears as you felt the people around you begin to move, some bursting through the officers' defenses, others scrambling to find safety from the guns and, oh god, the tear gas. A gas meant to be non-lethal was being sprayed directly into the eyes and mouths of those unlucky enough to be in the general vicinity of the officers, the pigs having no mercy towards the helpless protestors stuck in the struggling crowds.

BANG BANG

The gunshots didn't stop, and you felt yourself fall back as someone shoved themselves past you, your elbows being scraped by the rough, cold pavement. You winced. That was gonna leave a nasty scar. You scrambled to your feet, but found yourself met with the head of a pistol, pointed directly between your eyes. "Scum of the earth." You heard a man mutter, his uniform decorated with multiple medals and badges. You felt your body shaking with fear as you slowly got to your feet, the man's hands trembling as his fingers moved toward the trigger. If I die, I die on my feet.

A flash of red and blue passed you, taking the psychotic pig with him, your eyes catching a small glimpse of his mask right before they were both slammed into the wall. The masked man slung his guitar off his back and smashed it against the cop's head, effectively killing him in one hit. The one and only Spider-punk had arrived.

He wildly turned to look at you, the eyes of his mask widening when he saw your bleeding state, but he didn't have time to focus on you. He swung toward the small huddle of police officers that were still terrorizing the crowd, leaving you behind to find safety. But of course, being the stubborn idiot you were, you weren't going to do that.

"Help!"

A young woman was sitting with her back against the wall, her leg all bloody and misshapen, her eyes swollen from the tear gas. She'd been shot, probably more than once from the look of it. But Spider-punk was busy, so you'd have to take care of her. "Hey, its gonna be okay" you said in a soft voice, trying to calm her down and snap her out of her crying state. She babbled, obviously in shock of what had happened, muttering incoherent sentences full of slurred praises for you as you helped her to her feet, letting her lean on your as the two of you limped away. There were cops everywhere, yelling and shooting, the tear gas flooding your eyes and your throat, making it difficult to breathe. But you had to help her. Because if you couldn't, what was the use of being here?

You helped her toward a small group of other protestors that had gathered, trying to help people out, handing her over for them to drive to safety in their cars which had only just arrived in order to get people out of there while Spider-punk did his job.

You turned around to watch as the masked man smashed his guitar against their heads, kicking, punching, throwing. It was a gruesome sight. My hero, you thought to yourself.

You were snapped out of the confinement of your thoughts when you noticed one of the cops approaching you, gun in his hand. Not this again. Thinking quickly, you grabbed a broken part of the fence, a plank of wood and rushed him with it, luckily dodging the bullet he shot at you and hitting him over the head, effectively knocking him out. "Shit" you muttered, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You dropped the plank and removed the gun from the pig's hand, holding it in yours as you continued to where Spider-punk was. Maybe you could help? After all, most of the others were either injured or busy...

You approached him, but he had already finished the job, your eyes settling on his figure using the web to tie the still breathing cops together and sticking them onto the wall. He'd annihilated their backup, but there was no certainty that there weren't more on the way. It was time to leave.

A web shot at you, the gun knocked out of your hand. You defensively raised your hands in the air, eyes widening as you watched him turn to look at you. "Not a cop" you said quickly, taking a step back. "Yea, I can tell" he replied, walking towards you. It was a fairly frightening sight, seeing a 6'3 masked man covered in blood and grime walking toward you, but something about him felt surprisingly friendly. "You a'right?"

"As good as I'll ever be" You lowered your hands slowly, still keeping your eyes on him. He put his hands on his hips, looking you up and down. "Saw you hit that cop over the head back there. Good job."

"Thanks..." his ripped shirt caught your eye. "oh" you left the soft realization escape your lips as you saw his wound. He'd been shot, pretty badly from the looks of it. "Oh this?" he asked, gesturing to his side, blood dirtying his shirt. "Don't worry about it, lovey"

"Y'should probably head home. Don't know when more of those pigs 're gonna show up" he said, his tone darkening slightly as he reached out his hand toward you. Suddenly he faltered, pulling his hand back. "Right, sorry. Can't take you home when there's other people needing my help." he sounded a bit sheepish as he kept his eyes on you, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. "S'alright" You replied, feeling a bit awkward. "I live close by."

"Yeah? Be careful out there, lass. Take care of y'self" he said with a playful salute before walking right past you. "Yeah. I'll see you around, Spider-punk" you said, looking back at him, feeling a bit confused at the interaction. "Oi, don't call me that. s'Spider-MAN not spider-punk." he said cockily, turning back to look at you.

"Right."

[nectardaddy]

B.I.L.L.S , t. hanamaki

american hero. . . b.i.l.l.s. by towa bird

If I had a dollar then I wouldn't have to bother 'bout the bills. I'm so tired of paying rent.

pairing : hanamaki takahiro x f!reader

cw/notes : poverty/financial insecurity, conversation about/wishing for "what could be" (and a deep dive into the feeling of wanting), use of the pet name "sweetheart," humor as a coping mechanism, language, eating used as a metaphor, lots of metaphors in general, established long-term relationship, I am genuinely very proud of this fic so if you got tagged out of the blue that's why <3

word count : 2.6k

The apartment was dingy and run down, a muted tone of gray that submerged the entire cramped space into desolace. A desolace that bled into the other rooms, through the floorboards, through every nook and cranny of the compact unit - through the bones of the pair that inhabited it. Pictures and posters littered the drab walls. Old developed pictures and various music flyers stuck to drywall with bits and pieces of scotch tape - real frames were far too expensive - as they tried desperately to combat the dreary aura of the space. 

But it was difficult to fight against such longing; around every corner being yet another issue that would only ever be resolved with the one thing the pair didn’t have: funds. Air conditioning that went out every other month, as the landlord was too stingy to really fix it and complained with every call and maintenance request about the issue. Mold in the air vents, water pressure that was just short of a small stream, a lock on the door that barely bolted with a small chain lock that was used as a "replacement" that didn't really do anything. It reeked of dust and mildew, a musty smell that lingered no matter how many candles were lit and blown out. And trial and error to shut the, horribly painted, bedroom room; over the months they learned to turn the knob and slam rather than just slam. 

It was a constricted, at times uncomfortable; limited space meaning old cardboard boxes stayed within the living area or bedroom - mementos gathered dust that all but covered the unit entirely. Memories shoved in a box that would barely ever see the light of day, or simply, didn’t want to. Such a place didn’t deserve such warmth. A god forsaken space didn’t deserve the radiant coziness that came with trinkets and baubles, didn’t deserve the framed pictures - that would crash to the ground anyway, as the drywall often crumbled and fragmented - and surely didn’t deserve the mellow residents who resided in it. 

Both home from work, and both exhausted beyond belief, they sat together on an old, thrifted loveseat. A gaudy flower pattern that was stained and smelled of cigarettes from the latter owners, but a place to sit nonetheless. The man shuffled through a slew of mail, the woman, with her eyes closed and trying not to fall asleep right then and there, sat next to him. 

“I’m so fucking tired of paying this shit,” he grumbled before throwing the envelopes onto the rickety coffee table. A table that was discounted, dirt cheap, as one leg was cracked and wobbly. Oftentimes, it broke when too much weight was put on it, duct tape lined the connection between the leg and table itself. All it held was other envelopes - bills, an array of clipped coupons, and a long forgotten coffee cup, that��s rim was chipped and the handle cracked. 

“Then don’t,” the woman hummed in response, a cheeky reply to a serious notion. An exhaustion riddled in her voice that made him look over and sigh, heart strings pulled taut at seeing her weary form. “We can run away together and never have to see this shit hole again.” 

He stayed quiet for a moment, letting a pause settle between them. Allowed the sound of the fan in the far corner of the room to take over the silence he offered, the hum of it engulfed the room as it rotated to cool the entire apartment. “Maybe we should,” he sighed before a small smile pulled at his lips. “We can go off grid and everything, y’know they make shows about people that live like that, right? We could be famous.”

A breath of air passed through the woman’s nose as she chuckled, and she opened her eyes to look over at him. “You’re an idiot.” Even as she smiled at him, he couldn’t help but notice just how tired she looked. Her eyes were dark and hazy, unfocused even, as it seemed like all she wanted to do was close them again - to sleep. Her work uniform crumbled and wrinkled as she sat with her legs up on the small couch, too worn out to change upon coming, to what they reluctantly called, home. 

Home, to them, was coming back at odd hours. Never fully holding each other as the other had to whisk themselves away - to provide, to work. Times were fleeting, just as much as the money that came in. Gone within a second and drained from responsibilities. Every second together was taken with an ironclad grip, and sewn together with cups upon cups of coffee just to try and enjoy it all.

“Where would you want to go if we had the money to leave?” The off kilter question left his lips easily, without much thought put behind it. Because to him, that's all he ever thought about - leaving. He hoped one day he was able to scrape up enough funds, pack everything up, and leave the cramped unit all together with her by his side.

“Anywhere, honestly, this place sucks ass.” She groaned as she stretched her legs off the loveseat. A series of pops from overworked limbs hit his ears and made him frown - she didn't deserve to be this tired, not for this piece of shit apartment. Not for anything.

“I’m serious.” His normal, almost whimsical, tone went with the wind as he sat up a little straighter. He looked over to her with red tinged eyes, fatigued and strained, that swirled with an unforeseen worry.

“So am I.” A curt reply as she locked eyes with him. A realist, maybe a bit pessimistic to some, but the woman grounded herself in reality more than he. Didn't want to waste herself away with thoughts of what could be than what is. What could be was a sham, a figment of imagination she couldn't bear herself to think about often; as the thought of what is yanked her to the very pits of longing that she would later have to tear herself out of. 

“I know where I’d want to go.” A dream he hadn’t told her before, he wished he had the money to surprise her with it. But that day was far off in the distance, a mere glimmer of a memory, and he cracked under the pressure of wanting to share. At least this way, they could experience the dream together.

“Yeah? Where?” She closed her eyes again and let her head fall to his shoulder. 

“I’d want to go to Tokyo.”

She snorted at the thought, “spare me, Hiro, not this shit again.” A half hearted joke that landed a bit on edge, toed the line of snappy through drowsy laced words. A former wish she had heard before from him, a joke to only go to Tokyo to get piss drunk with friends. 

“No, not the bar hopping thing.” He assured and waved off the remark with a small chuckle. 

“Good, because you do that shit with Mattsun here anyway. You don’t need to drag me to Tokyo just for me to babysit you two idiots there.” Babysitting, truly, was an understatement to the woman. The thought made her cringe as she recalled past memories of his dear friend passed out in their bathroom, head in the toilet and completely out cold. 

“I want to take you to Ueno Park to see the cherry blossoms one day.” His voice was a twinge quieter than before, a bit breathless as he couldn’t believe himself for finally saying the dream aloud. Deep brown eyes shifted over to look at the woman, whose head still rested on his shoulder - completely silent.

The comment had her at a lack of words, letting another silence pass by them once more; but it lingered far too long. A silence that, as moments passed, began to have a weight to it and started to suffocate her. Every inhale became shallower than the last, and she couldn’t find it within herself to take a single breath more of the humid, musky air the apartment provided. She felt herself tumble into the gaping hole of wanting, needing, craving - pure, unbridled hunger for more than what is. A ravishing feeling that took her by the shoulders and shoved, falling head first into the empty, hollow feeling of what could be.

What could be was far from reality, what could be couldn’t happen.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked over at him, eyes a bit wider than before and lips parted through means to say something - nothing ever came. “You told me three years ago you wanted to do that.” Quiet words answered her unspoken question and she sucked in a breath. She remembered telling him that vividly, could recall the day to a tee as it held importance to her.

It rained that day, poured down onto the street as they ran back to their shared apartment - a better one than what they had now. Steps taken hastily, hand in hand, as he practically dragged her through the downpour with a laugh. Both forgot an umbrella, so they ran through the rain getting more and more soaked with every step. It wasn’t far from their unit, the pair only went down the street to a convenience store. But the storm they tried to outrun inevitability caught up with them, so the leisurely walk back home turned to a sprint.

Upon their return, they found themselves sprawled out on their bedroom floor. Their clothes drenched from rain and water puddled onto the hardwood underneath them. A silly action, to lay on the floor wet. But neither minded as they giggled and laughed with one another, enjoying the other’s company. 

Strawberry blonde hair stuck to his forehead and he raked a hand through it. A chuckle left his lips from an earlier conversation before he looked over at her once more, “if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you want to go?”

“What kind of question is that, Hiro?” A teasing tone laced within her cadence as she locked eyes with him. Bright and hopeful, full of love, and not an ounce of exhaustion swirling within them.

“One that I’m curious about, obviously, so indulge me.” The whimsy in his words was easily apparent, one of which she got used to quickly. And there was a sass in the timbre of his voice that muddled with care, a juxtaposition to his usual standalone brassiness. 

“What’s yours?”

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you.”

He watched the woman smile before she averted her eyes to the ceiling, scrunched her brows in thought a moment before she looked at him once more. “Probably Ueno Park, in April, to see the cherry blossoms.”

“Are you serious? Anywhere in the world, and you want Tokyo?” He never looked away from the woman throughout the conversation, and when she met his gaze once more he smiled. 

“Did you ask just to make fun of me, asshole?”

“No, god no.” He laughed, lips pulling into a silly smile before he took her hand in his own. “I’m just trying to figure out where I should ask you to marry me one day.”

The inescapable feeling of want consumed her, leaving nothing left behind as she was swallowed whole. A swirling sensation in her stomach that sickened her, made her ill to think about too long as all she could do was stare at him. “Takahiro.” Her words fell to a whisper as eyes flickered between his own, desperately trying to gauge the situation but to no avail. “You can’t be serious?”

“As a heart attack, sweetheart.” The smile he had started to falter, and the concern that saturated her eyes made his heart sink. But through that concern, the smallest, most miniscule, glimmer of need shone through. Even through tired, bloodshot eyes and a tinge of cynicism, she wanted the dream just as much as he, if not more.

“Hanamaki,” she breathed. “Be real for a second-” But she was cut off as he turned to face her, the old loveseat squeaking under the shift of weight, and he took her hands in his own

“I am being real, so put that name away.” Erring on defensive, put a care behind it that she couldn't ignore. A rare seriousness in his voice that made her swallow hard. “I’m taking you to see those damn cherry blossoms at some point, and when I do I'm asking you to marry me.” 

She opened her mouth to say something but promptly shut it, not knowing what to say to the man. But she felt as the ravenous feeling turned to a starved, almost primal, one. Felt her stomach twist into knots at the thought - she wanted to swallow the notion completely. Needed to feel the crunch and snap of it in her mouth, wanted her teeth caught in it, needed it to be consumed until nothing was left. She abstained from could be for too long and needed to devour the concept entirely. 

But could be wasn’t what is. What is left a bruise, tender and raw, that left a rotten taste in her mouth. She felt the urge to spit out the thought as it circled within her mind like a vulture, ready to dive within a split second. “But-”

“We will, I swear.” He cut off her protest and squeezed her hand. But to no avail, as she only looked at him with a sense of apprehension.

“But we're-” 

“I know, I know,” he sighed. Brown eyes slid over to the envelopes on the coffee table, bold red letters catching his attention that made him close his eyes. “Believe me, I know.” A disheartening belief that caused him to take a deep breath before opening his eyes again to look at her. He brought a hand to her cheek, pale fingers gently brushed over her skin with a warmth that was inviting, loving, and selfless. He gave her a small, out of sorts, smile, “but I want to do this. For you. For us. Hell, because we deserve to do something nice. I want us to have something to look forward to other than the same, shit ass, walls everyday.” 

She paused a moment, let his words sink in, before she bit down hard on the concept and refused to let go. “Ok,” she nodded carefully. “Alright, we’ll go to Ueno Park one day.” Could be tasted sweet and savory, mouth watering to think about. It eased a craving that deflected from what is - so just this once, she let herself free fall into it. “Do you even have a ring to ask me with?” 

His smile pulled into a grin at her question, and he chuckled. “Would you say yes to a ring pop?”

With a paltry laugh, she leaned into his hand that was still on his cheek. “As long as it's strawberry, then absolutely, you dumbass.”

“Strawberry it is, sweetheart.” 

However, he didn’t really need the sweet, confectionary ring. In one of the many old cardboard boxes within the living area and bedroom that collected dust - a particularly well kept, small box hidden in the back of their tiny, shared closet - was a ring he bought three years ago. Bought shortly after the conversation was had, when he still had the money to stretch. Stuffed between memories that would barely ever see the light of day, because a place like this didn't deserve such warmth.

But the warmth was willingly given anyway, whether the pair knew it or not.

series taglist (open, send an ASK) + a few moots bc I am genuinely very very very proud of this

@causenessus @softpia @renardiererin @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses

@wyrcan @honeekyuu @wakashudou @wolffmaiden @eggyrocks

@dailyakira @cupidsblonde @mollyrolls @wolffmaiden @zumicho

@jadeoru @sandwhitches

[lucysstoryworld]

Lease of Life | Azriel x Reader Part 1

Summary: The youngest Archeron sister had been plagued by sickness her whole life. Her family just had to watch as she endured a slow, agonising death. However, the events of her sister’s transition into Prythian has the Archeron sisters having to endure the change of their very existence. It seems to be a new lease of life for (F/n), but her new life is not as sweet as she would like as she realises that she is slowly falling for the Shadowsinger, whom only has his sights set on her elder sister. 

Warnings: Death, violence, angst, dark thoughts.

Series Masterlist

Hey! This is my first Azriel fic after having so many ideas! I hope you enjoy and let me know if you have any feedback. I’d be willing to start a tag list for anyone who might be interested, but I will not accept anyone who is under the age of 18, so please either state your age in either the ask/message/comment or just have it in the bio of your blog!

Soft light peaked through curtains, bringing with it a gentle breeze from the cracked window. It would have been serene were it not for the pain that accompanied your existence in this world. Another day of being coddled like a child by the maids. Perhaps your sisters would grace you with their presence again today, letting you know that they had found yet another healer who claimed to have the ability to nurse you back to health. 

Health. Not a day in your twenty years had you ever paired yourself and the word healthy in one sentence. Sick from birth. Living from one ailment to the next, waiting for the day where you did not awake again. When your father had lost his wealth, you and your three sisters were forced to move into more “modest” living circumstances your father had called it. Not that you considered slowly starving to death modest. The gain that Feyre had hunted was barely enough to scrape by on, let alone having to spend any spare coin she had to provide you with medicines so you did not meet your maker within the following days. Guilt consumed you when you realised she would give you half her serving of food, see her forego a new cloak to get her hands on some sort of treatment for you. Often you had wished that your next bout of flu or fever would suck you into the darkness just so Feyre, Nesta, Elain and your father might have better quality of life. 

But then, Feyre had left. Gone with some distant, well off aunt. From living in a hovel, to being reintroduced to wealth you could just barely remember. Feyre took with her Nesta’s shame, your father’s sadness and Elain’s desperation. If only she had taken your sickness too. You had hoped that the sudden wealth would provide some cure. That would give you a new lease of life. However, healer after healer, remedy after remedy had dashed all hopes of you ever living a normal life. Though, Nesta and Elain seemed determined to scour to the ends of the earth for a healer that could give you your life back. 

It had frustrated you. Their sudden willingness to help when they watched Feyre give everything but the clothes off her back for you. They sat and judged her. Nesta’s pride was just as strong as her protection over Elain. Two women content with sitting around, waiting for a man to take their hand in marriage. Pathetic. You wanted to shake them out of their silly daze, tell them to go live the life you yearned for. Travel, go horseback riding, anything. Anything other than sitting around the house, gossiping with those who turned their noses up at you and your family when poverty had the Archerons in a chokehold. Those same people who now looked at you as a charity case. Spoke about you as if you were not in front of them. 

How terrible for such youth to be bed bound. 

So disappointing for a lady of your age to be unable to get married. 

Never to have children — such a shame. 

The maid entering the room tore you from your pitiful thoughts. “Good morning, (F/n). How are you feeling?” 

“The same as I have all my damn life, Dina,” You all but bit back. 

“Language, child. You won’t get better with that attitude.” Another optimist. Great. It took every modicum of self control not to tear into her. But you would not. Dina was about as kind as they got. She was the closest thing to a mother you had known, after losing your own before you were old enough to walk. 

“Sorry, Dina. What’s on the schedule for today?” You hoped there would be no visits from any of your sisters’ aristocrat friends. Not today, today you were tired and wished to at least pretend as though you were normal. 

As if the gods above had answered your prayers, Dina spoke “Nothing, for once, sweet one,” She replied softly as she helped you to sit. “You may do what you please today.” Her voice was like honey as she took a brush to your thin hair. Dina was the only handmaid who had treated you like a human. Although she was cautious, she allowed you some freedoms that often had your sisters reeling with concern. Nesta had tried to dismiss her the first time you walked around the manor with Dina by your side, claiming that a seizure could take you at any moment and that Dina was not fit to look after you. She had relented when she saw how genuinely happy you looked at the mere prospect of walking .

“Great! I would like to have breakfast in the dining hall with my sisters today.” With a ‘hmph’ of agreement from Dina, she prepared you for the day. She smoothed each article of clothing over you as if you were a living, breathing work of art. 

Once she was satisfied, her brows furrowed slightly as she held her hand to your forehead, “You have a slight fever, child. You better take it easy today.”

With a sigh from deep within your soul, you breathed a “I always do.” 

The walk from your bedroom to the dining hall was more taxing than what you were used to, a tell tale that you would likely be completely incapacitated in the following days. Though you did not let it show. If there was even so much a whisper of your health taking another turn, Nesta and Elain would have one of the butlers carry you back to your room. As you approached the doors to the dining room, you could’ve sworn you could hear Feyre. You knew it wasn’t true. She hadn’t visited once since she left for your aunt’s. However, the closer you got, the more voices you could hear. “I thought you said there were no plans today.” 

“There wasn’t.” Perhaps it was one of Elain’s wedding planners who had an appointment. Ugh. 

Nothing could prepare you for what you saw when you opened the door. Fae. There was no doubt about it when you beheld the wings, the pointed ears and the ethereal beauty each of them possessed. In spite of the fact that the creatures you were taught to fear were standing a mere few feet from you, what sent your mind into a haze was seeing Feyre with them. Standing among them with pointed ears, with a frame more elongated than what you remembered, with that same otherworldly presence than the others.

“What the fuck,” You breathed, not entirely sure if this was a dream your fevered brain had concocted. 

“(F/n) what are you doing out of bed?” Nesta barked, rushing over to you. Within an instant, she was shielding you from the guests. Her hands brushing over your cheeks and forehead. “You’ve got a fever, you shouldn’t be down here. Go back to your room.” Nesta’s voice did not leave much room for argument.

“(F/n),” Though Feyre looked different, her voice was just the same. The only difference, that she sounded more mature from when you last saw her in your dilapidated cottage. Pushing passed Nesta, you walked to just in front of your sister, who seemingly held her breath as you assessed her. Face filled out, strong body and she looked happy. Happy with her company and the beautiful man with violet eyes standing next to her. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. You had never seen her at a loss for words, not with you, not ever. The man by her side placed a hand on the small of her back as you continued to scan her silently. She did not break your gaze once, but visibly relaxed just at the touch of her partner, you had gathered by now. “(F/n), I’m sor-.” 

Before she could even finish, you flung your arms around her, holding onto her as though she had risen from the dead. And when Feyre returned the embrace, you buried your head into the crook of her neck to hide your tears from her company. “Don’t,” you sobbed, “Don’t you apologise to me. Not when you are the only reason we did not die in that cottage.” It was now Feyre’s turn to cry. Pulling away from her, you smoothed your hands over her hair. Eyes taking in every single detail and committing them to memory. You wiped her tears with your thumbs and placed a kiss on each of her cheeks. “Do you want to introduce us to your friends before this gets awkward?” You joked. 

Feyre stepped back into the arms of the man, while Nesta and Elain approached your side. Nesta looked as though she was ready to rip Feyre to shreds and Elain looked entirely bewildered by the situation. “Nesta, Elain, (F/n)... This is Rhysand. The High Lord of the Night Court in Prythian and my mate,” you looked to the man standing next to Feyre, his eyes piercing yet kind. Both Nesta and Elain stood stationary. Assessing him. Calculating whether or not he was a threat. Looking from them to Rhysand with a slight roll of your eyes, you approached him and offered your hand.

His hand was large and strong, you could’ve sworn you could feel the magic thrumming in his blood. With a gentle smile, you looked deep into his eyes. “Rhysand, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, (F/n). Feyre has told me a great deal about you.” His voice was like spiced rum, filling you with warmth akin to the heat of a fire on a frigid snowy night. 

Your eyes shot to Feyre’s with a knowing smirk, her cheeks rosy as she beheld her... mate she called it. She gestured towards the blond woman next, who appeared to be very eager to meet you, “This is Morrigan. Rhys’s cousin. She oversees the court.” 

“Nice to meet you, Morrigan.” Shaking her hand, you laughed gently as she smiled at you excitedly.

“It’s great to meet you, (F/n).”

“Next is Amren, Rhys’s second in command.” You barely registered Feyre as you moved to look at Amren. Amren seemed different than the others, though you could not quite place your finger on it. Nonetheless, you shook her hand and introduced yourself. Feyre moved on to to the tall winged men next. “This is Cassian, the general of the Night Court’s armies.” 

Cassian had his eyes trained on Nesta, the two in a staring contest. Each of their expressions were about as sour as they got, daring one another to say or do something brash. You snorted slightly, drawing Nesta and Cassian’s attention to you, “I haven’t seen anyone that didn’t wither under Nesta’s glare,” You could feel her burning holes into the back of your head yet you remained fixed on the general, “It’s nice to meet you, general.” 

“It’s nice to meet the sister Feyre speaks nothing but fondly of,” He replied quietly, taking your hand in his and looking at you with so much emotion. You weren’t sure where it came from, but he was clearly troubled about being in the presence of Nesta. You were sure you’d find out soon whether you wanted to or not. 

Feyre ushered you along to the final member of the group, not without a pointed and warning glance at the general. “Last, but not least, (F/n) this is Azriel. The spymaster of the Night Court.” 

For once, you felt at a loss for words. The being in front of you was the most striking man you had ever seen. As if the gods themselves had forged him. His dark skin, golden eyes, short black hair and domineering wings jutting out each side of him. His gaze sucked the breath from your lungs. Azriel held his gloved hand out, and you absentmindedly lifted your own to meet it. The heat of his grasp jumpstarted your brain back to reality. With flushed cheeks and a smile you found your voice, “Pleasure to meet you, Azriel.”

Azriel nodded in acknowledgment as his eyes swept over you, “Pleasure is all mine.” Gods, his voice was unlike anything you had ever heard. It sent a wave of shivers gliding across your body. Although, you were aware of the way he was analysing you. Scoping out whether you were any sort of liability to his court. Figures. 

Letting go of his hand, you stepped back and addressed the group as a whole, “While it is lovely to meet you all, I’m sure you are not here to just reunite Feyre with her family.”

This seemed to bring Nesta to life as she stood in front of you, taking command of being host instead, “I agree. What do you want, Feyre?” Nesta’s demeanour sucked the joy out of the room within the second, Feyre’s face turning grim.

“We should sit down,” She replied quietly. Unease settled in your stomach. Grabbing her hand, you guided her to the table and sat yourself next to her. Rhysand placed himself on her right, and the rest of her… friends sat around you both. Your remaining sisters sat across from you, Nesta making sure she gave you a disapproving stare before she refocused on Feyre.

The talking went on for what felt like hours, Feyre explaining the war across the wall which seemed to have the end of the mortal worlds written in its destiny. The thought of it made you sick, the fighting that was approaching. Approaching fast. And you knew, that you would have to lie in your bed and wait. Sit idly by as your dearest sister fought a war that was not hers to start with yet she had embraced because of the people sitting around you both. A family. That’s what they were. Rhysand and his peers were a family. Part of your soul ached at the notion of Feyre leaving you and your dysfunctional family in order to find one that suited her better. That she had not visited once, to try and work on her relationships. But you quickly dashed all thoughts, understanding flooding your senses. When she was human, she gave up everything so everyone else would thrive around her. She hunted so you had food, she got money in whatever way she could so your family stayed clothed. Most of all, she had to fight tooth and nail in a losing battle to make sure you did not die. So she left.

And did not blame her for it.

In the brief moments you were stuck in your thoughts, Nesta and Cassian were nothing short of brawling.

“That’s enough,” Feyre all but boomed. Her sudden burst seemed to hit Nesta like ice cold water.

“You do not get to come into my home and order me around after you left!” Nesta spat in reply, “You do not get to come here and ask of us what you are asking!”

Feyre took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, “I know that, Nesta, I know. I wouldn’t put you three in this position if I didn’t think it was-.”

“Don’t finish that. Don’t you dare. Because this is not the first time you’ve done this. Not when you showed up a year ago wailing about another fae you just had to save, leaving us in the dust again!” It was rare that you ever saw Nesta this riled up. Her anger was something you tried to avoid at all costs. You believed that if she had the ability, Nesta’s rage would burn the world down around her.

That was not what you were focused on in that moment. No, it was what she said about Feyre already having been there. A year ago. “What are you talking? When was Feyre here last?” Heat spread across your body, the fever catching up with you. Nesta’s eyes shot to you as she realised what she had just let out of the bag. “You’re saying Feyre was here a year ago and you didn’t let her see me. Is that what you’re saying?” Your body began to feel strange. A slight sweat was breaking out across your forehead as a thrumming began in your head.

“(F/n) you were very unwell when Feyre arrived last year, you were barely hanging on and we didn’t want to stress you out more than what was necessary.” The first time Elain had spoken this whole time. She spoke gently as though you would break at any moment.

“Oh please, spare me!” You snapped. “I’m so sick of you treating me like this! Would you all get a grip! I’m dying, and have been since the day I was born! Just accept it!” You shoved your chair back from the table with trembling hands. Standing brought with it a wave a dizziness that you did not allow anyone the time to observe before you continued your rant, “For once, I just want you to think about me and not yourselves. Just once! You would have let me die a year ago without the chance to see my sister one last time. Whether you like it or not, these are not your decisions to make. They’re mine.” You began walking towards Dina, whom you hadn’t realise has been tucked away in the back of the room this whole time.

It took one look at you for her to realise you were going downhill, and fast. She quickly approached you and placed her hand on your forehead once again, “You are burning up, child. Come, you need rest. This was too much for you,” She spoke quietly, sending a quick but not unnoticed glare at your sisters. Feyre included.

“Dina…,” You whispered, vision swimming. “Dina, I don’t feel good.” Your body began to hunch as the nausea took hold.

With speed you didn’t quite understand, Feyre was next to you with her new family in tow. She placed a hand on your back, looking at her mate with concern. Gods, she had never seen you so weak. When you entered the room, she felt as though she was looking at a living corpse. You looked so different from when she left the cottage and not in a good way. Cheeks sunken, dark bags, skin clammy and a body that was so thin that it looked like a breeze could’ve knocked you over. Her heart was like led as she realised that you were, in fact, close to the end. Your mortal body would not hold out much longer.

As if fate was playing a cruel trick on her, Feyre watched as your body crumpled on the floor, laboured breaths leaving your body as consciousness slipped away from you. Rhys was on his knees next you in an instant, about to take away any pain you were feeling when “Don’t you lay a hand on her,” Nesta barked.

“Nesta please! He can help,” Feyre pleaded, grabbing your hand in a panic.

“Now is not the time for bickering. Help me take her to her rooms and I will look after her,” Dina ordered. The group looked toward one another. No one missed the way you looked for your maid. They saw how much trust you put into her, so they did as she said. Azriel stood forward and carried you to your room, with everyone following close behind.

As he set you on the bed, he stood back and watched as the maid began placing damp washcloths onto your head. Every time he had been in the human lands, he had found it unsettling to see how illness could kill so easily. How fragile human life was. And seeing the way Feyre paced the bedroom made him realise just how much she had forgotten it as well.

“Dina,” Nesta finally spoke, though her eyes did not leave your struggling form for a second as though she was afraid you would die the moment she moved her gaze. “How long does she have?”

“It’s hard to say,” Grim, that was the only way to describe her tone, “She has a strong heart. And she has pulled through worse. But there’s only so much her body can take.” Dina began stroking your hair gently. “She knows this too. (F/n) told me recently that she can feel her time approaching. She is giving up. I have tried to keep her spirits up but she has lived her whole live like this. She only wants us all to give up too so she may die peacefully.” Elain began to cry softly, each and every being in the room coming to the realisation that they were witnessing your death. Witnessing your death before you had truly lived. “She isn’t likely to wake again before tomorrow and if she does, she won’t make much sense with her fever.” While Dina was not directly dismissing the group, they were all clever enough to read between the lines; leave and let (F/n) rest. 

* * *

Coolness draped across your forehead is what eventually pulled you back to consciousness. A wave of violent shivers had you trying to pull the cloth from your head, when a gentle hand kept it in place. Opening your eyes took more effort than you were willing to admit. Dina was standing over you, her slightly wrinkled face smiling gently down at you, “You know the drill, sweet girl. I can’t let you take the cloth off.”

Grumbling a sigh, you attempted to sit up. The pain that clamped down on your head rendered your attempt useless as you settled back into your pillow. “How long was I out?” 

“A few days, Feyre and her friends left the same day they arrived.” Dina spoke softly, taking your hand and massaging it gently.

“So it wasn’t a dream then, she was here,” Tears gathered along your eyes. Frustrated that you had only gotten to spend such little time with her. 

“I’m afraid so, child. But she will be back within a few weeks.” 

“You and I both know I don’t have a few weeks,” You whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, despair would rip you apart. For so long, you had accepted your fate. But now, things were changing. Your sister was fae and had come home to ask for help. It had been a long time since you felt this way. Felt like holding on, just to see this out. But it was too late, your body was giving up. 

“I know, (F/n), I know. Your sisters asked me to alert them when you awoke. I will go get them now.” You appreciated Dina not trying to convince you that this wasn't the end. 

“Don’t bother, it’s late and the conversation can wait until tomorrow. I don’t fancy listening to excuses about why they didn’t tell me that Feyre was here a year ago.” 

“Very well. I am going to bed, but as always, if you need anything just ring the bell and I will be straight up. Sleep well, sweet girl.” Dina leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your clammy cheeky before fluffing up your pillow and securing the washcloth to your head before taking her leave. 

Staring up at the ceiling, thoughts rushed through your head. Feyre’s new existence, Elain and Nesta’s betrayal, your own fate. It was all so confusing. For the first time in your life, you wished you had the normal life of an aristocrat girl of your age. The only drama occurring in their lives was what member of nobility had found themselves in compromising situations, like a family member becoming pregnant before wedlock. A humourless chuckle left your lips, how mundane that life seemed yet so appealing in your current state.

It felt like hours before you were ripped from your thoughts by the sound of distant crashing somewhere in the manor. Despite the barking pain across your body, the noise had you sitting upright in an instant, heart thumping painfully in your chest. A second later, Dina was in your room, her face and body the epitome of panic, “Stay quiet,” She whispered. She made quick work and pushing some heavy furniture in front of the door. 

“Dina, what’s going on?” Panic was gripping you, the adrenaline making you stand with little effort. 

“I do not know, child. Stay back, you are still weak.” Ushering you to the furthest point from the door, she stood like a rock in front of you, as if she could protect you from whatever the world was throwing at you in that moment.

Not even a few breaths later, the door and all the furniture in front of it was ejected across the room, wood splintering and crashing to the floor in pieces. A scream rattled through both you and Dina, the latter curling herself around you to prevent the wood from impaling you. The sound of heavy footsteps had Dina turning her back on you once again. 

“Step aside, human.” It was fae who had invaded your home. From what you had gathered from Feyre’s visit, it was likely their enemies. Leverage. That’s what the intruders were seeking. 

“Leave, creature. I will not ask you twice,” Dina growled. Her courage was unmatched, such a strong woman that you wished you could be like. However, your trembling body represented quite the opposite of the bravery your handmaid was presenting. 

A cruel snicker escaped the fae’s mouth, and his smile sent every hair on your body standing on end, “Interesting. Brave humans are always the most fun.” 

Before Dina had a chance to open her mouth in retort, the beast was on her in an instant, grabbing her by the neck. You could not tear your eyes from her body being lifted from the ground, the noise of her choked sputters had you begging the intruder to let her live, “Please! I’ll do anything, just let her go!” 

The creature locked eyes with you, his gaze looking through rather than at you, “Good, that’s what I like to hear,” He started lowering Dina slightly. 

“..R-...Run!” She squealed, voice cracking under the grip of her attacker.

Gods you wanted to, but fear anchored your feet to the ground. Dina’s eyes pleaded with you, begged you to run for your life. As if the fae attacker knew what you were gearing up to do, he snapped the Dina’s neck and lunged for you instead. Your screams ripped through the manor as Dina’s lifeless eyes looked to the roof, unseeing. You barely registered Dina’s murderer grabbing you and hauling you towards the exit as your soul seemed to stay in your bedroom with Dina’s corpse. It just didn’t make any sense, just a few hours before she was kissing your cheek before bed. She was supposed to be sound asleep, resting for another day of looking after you in your sickly state. 

“(F/n)!” Nesta’s panicked shout shocked you into action, pulling and scratching at your attacker. 

“No!” You attempted to pull yourself away as Nesta and Elain’s own captors knocked them unconscious. Yet, before you met the same destiny as your sisters, the stress your body was under had black tunnelling your vision. Blood began to trickle from your nose, and the pulsing in your head rendered you limp in the arms of the stranger. 

Before your awareness evaded you, you faintly heard the group laughing with a taunting, “Bet you wish your one went down this easy.” 

Following that, the world went black. 

*** 

Any feedback would be greatly appreciated! Also if there are any mistakes, just let me know! 

[dallasgallant]

Dawn goes down- Vamp au lore post

This is organized the best I could think of as it’s more of a universe than a story (there’s so much that could be done with it). I’ve drawn some aspects and others will be more explained. Will treat this like a master post so it will be updated as lore is talked about!

Long post ahead!

If you want to make anything for it (or any of my aus, headcanons etc.) go ahead! Might be my ego talking, but fjdndmdmd

Base story-

The gang are a group of nomadic vampires, they go from town to town feeding, wreaking havoc and moving on before there’s any danger to them. There’s small pockets of fun but it’s a taxing existence… they’re surviving more than they’re living. 1967 they decide to settle in Tulsa for longer than a normal stay, which means more subtlety than their usual chaos and law running.

It’s a rocky start for them as not even the oldest of them has done the “traditional” Dracula method of slow feeding over a period of time off of people. As you can imagine this starts out horribly (imagine two-bit just hanging off your ceiling like a lizard. It went BAD lmao) until Dally found Buck. The two quickly entered an arrangement where Buck finds and sends food the gangs way.

As the gang becomes more settled they get more free time, Pony still loves movies. He and Johnny spend one morning out to late, confused by the darkness of the movie house — run ins with Dawn and the sun aren’t anything new to them. Except this time, Johnny gets burned badly and the two of them have to take refuge under the porch of one Cherry Valance while the gang has no idea where they are.

The vampires-

The term to refer to a group of vampires would be a “Brood” and a more permanent place they’d stay instead of motels and RVs would be a vampire “nest” -> they’ve currently taken up residence in the long abandoned Curtis house.

They’d also never use the term vampire themselves, for multiple reasons, they’d instead say: Wanderers, drifters etc.

Vamprism isn’t easy, in fact it has more constraints than it does freedoms— it seems that way some nights anyway. Darry views it as “just how it is” there’s no way out and you just have to live with it… that’s what he tells Ponyboy anyway. Darry views things as just fine as long as they all stay together. [ au is simultaneously a fun time with vampires while also slightly vampirsm serves as metaphorical towards poverty/being an outsider. ]

The gang has had countless close calls with sunlight, either with shotty sun protection jobs, traveling to long or plain forgetting. Short exposure like this hurts but it won’t scar permanent unless a tad longer/precise or an incident like Dallas and his former St. Christopher.

However, the most important thing when it comes to the gang is that… Johnny Cade is the head vampire. It is a wonderful bit of irony that the short, scared looking Johnny is the most powerful/originator of the bunch. Him being so assuming is actually quite protective of the entire gang, and while he is the head and that earns him a certain respect and attention he isn’t exactly the leader. That role has been given over to Darry similar to canon.

Vampires don’t age… physically or mentally! While there’s room for personal growth, change and wisdom vampires would maintain the hardwiring of their age at the time of their death. While pony is well beyond the age of 14 he still deals with bouts of irrationality/excess angst and confusion someone at the age would have.

The gang-

Johnny: Oldest of the gang and the head vampire. Takes a lower spot out of choice, despite his strength he’s scared and often quite similar to canon. After some talks he and Pony try and only eat ���bad people.”

Dally: The first turned by Johnny sometime in the 1870s, he was a member of a Wild West show left for dead by a former partner. Johnny was lonely and saved his life by taking it, unknowingly Dally had on his pendant when turned leaving him scarred. Has an even greater disregard for law than he does in canon and is one of the ones to ‘clean up’ for the gang. Carries a knife and gun.

Pony: Turned second by Johnny, was met further down the line and they became unlikely friends as Pony just thought him to be sick. (Whether their friendship was genuine or through accidental hypnosis is unknown and forgotten). Still a quiet and thoughtful boy though a bit disruptive and quick to anger… he’s been 14 for a long time and that starts to wear on you. Carries a knife.

Two-bit: Third turned, this time by Dally! Met one night at some saloon (remember this is 19th century) and decided to turn him to keep him around. It was a bit of a botch job but it did work, Two isn’t mad about it as he’d probably get caught cheating and die anyway… this is more fun. Also one of the wilder of the gang who ‘cleans up’. Has two guns.

Soda: Turned fourth by Pony, Soda is his favorite person in the world and he wouldn’t live forever without him. It took a lot out of pony to do this and nearly scared Soda into a second death. It took him the longest adjustment period to get used to everything and ok with it. He likes the fun he gets to have and the lack of rules. Carries a gun and a knife.

Steve: Turned fifth by Johnny for soda, who had similar reasons to pony but saw what it took out of him and wasn’t about to risk it. Steve’s the designated driver of the group often whipping the RV or whatever vehicle they find down the highway, wears driving gloves and tinted goggles as they often cut it close with sunrise. Will swap with Dally when he needs a break. Carries a knife.

Darry: Served briefly as a loosely informed daytime protector (human guardian) until it got to risky. Turned sixth by Johnny for Pony, who wasn’t going to have it happen again. While he was turned last he took to it the quickest, whatever it took to keep the brothers together (especially considering the state of late 19th century boy homes). Leads the gang, critical on sticking together, clean up and finding a place to stay. Carries a gun and a knife.

Pony is in a bit of a weird state with it all, he likes the gang and likes his brothers but he hates the way they have to live and how desperate it all is. They’ll be nights where he’s out on his own where he just goes to see movies or read etc instead of taking time to feed… which worries Darry with how he keeps accidentally starving himself. He’ll either end up feeding him or bringing a cup or two. Since settling down things have gotten slightly better.

Humans -

Cherry : she’s relatively the same to how she is in canon apart from having vampires take temporary refuge under her front porch. Will they be gone before she discovers them?

Buck: While he was fed off once, he’s not a ‘thrall’/protector in a traditional sense though the gang will call him ‘Renfield’ as a joke. He’s under no spell (but thinks he is) they’re just friends, he sends unruly customers, cops and competition their way occasionally as long as they bring no buzz his way.

Sandy: Soda’s past sweetheart when he was alive who he had to leave behind. She was never fully aware what happened, just that his little brother got sick and not long after all three of them disappeared. Since the brothers were turned the latest, there’s a possibility of her still being alive but extremely old.

Bob and Randy: Like Cherry they’re relatively the same to their canon selves. Randy is more observant of illness and disappearances in town and Bob has horror movies on the brain, he’d never suggest vampires — lest he be seen of as insane but he has thought about it. (Unlike cherry there’s not a lot of direct involvement)

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Capitol Punishment III

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape (though never explicit), alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 3.0K

Part II | Masterlist | Part IV

You, Cinna, and Effie were all eagerly sat on the couch in the living room of the penthouse waiting for Katniss and Peeta to return from their individual session with the game makers. You were discussing game outfits with Cinna when Effie suddenly interrupted you. “Y/N where is Haymitch?” she demanded.

“Calm down,” you began, “he’s down in the training area waiting for them.”

Before Effie could huff anymore the elevator dinged and out stepped the tributes and Haymitch. Haymitch made a beeline for the bar again as Katniss and Peeta approached the couch. “So how’d it go?” you asked.

“Katniss shot an arrow at them,” Peeta jumped in to answer.

“Peeta!” Katniss scolded.

“Katniss!” Effie shrieked. “Why would you do such a thing?”

As Haymitch rounded the couch, drink in hand, he gave Katniss an emphatic thumbs up. You were glad to she a smile tug at her lips, probably the first since she’s gotten here. “Calm down,” Haymitch told Effie as he sat next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Calm down? This reflects badly on all of us!” she huffed.

Haymitch just ignored her. “Tell Y/N what you said,” he laughed.

Katniss chuckled, looking down at her hands. “Thank you for your consideration.”

Haymitch laughed again, repeating the line as Caesar Flickerman appeared on the screen, rattling off numbers until he got to District 12. “From District 12: Peeta Mellark. 8.” Everyone erupted into excited gasps until they were quelled by Caesar’s voice. “Katniss Everdeen. An 11.”

Had you not gotten so good at keeping your face blank, your jaw would’ve dropped. An 11? That was practically unheard of. “I thought they hated me,” Katniss said in disbelief.

“They must’ve liked your guts,” Haymitch answered.

“And your accuracy,” you added.

Cinna then stood up, glass raised. “To Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!”

~

You and Haymitch were stood with the other victors and tributes who had already gone, huddled around the screens displaying the tributes’ interviews. You watched intently, the career districts dazzling the audience as always. As for the poorer districts they were all clearly very uncomfortable, boring the audience. You had been a lot like them. You were very uncomfortable with the skin tight, almost sheer dress you had been put in and you gave short, quiet answers to Caesar’s questions.

You watched as Katniss entered the stage looking dazed, tension clawing at your throat. “She’s gonna pass out,” you commented to Haymitch who had a hand rested on your hip.

“She’ll be fine. She’s the girl on fire, people will eat it up.” You only nodded, eyes still locked on the screen as Caesar welcomed her to the stage.

Caesar made a comment, waiting for a reply but all he got was a “What?” from Katniss.

“I think someone’s a little shy,” he laughed gently. “I said that was quite and entrance that you've made at the Tribute's parade the other day. Do you want to tell us about it?”

“Well, I was just hoping that I wouldn't burned to death.”

The crowd erupted into laughter, meanwhile Katniss still looked like she was going to throw up. “When you came out of that chariot, I have to say… My heart stopped. Did any of you experience this as well?” he asked the crowd which let out an applause. “My heart stopped.”

“So did mine,” Katniss breathed, earning another laugh.

“They love her,” you said in awe.

“Yeah they’re liking the vulnerability and the girl on fire thing,” Haymitch said, taking a swig from his drink.

“Now tell me bout the flames. Were they real?” Caesar asked.

“Yes,” Katniss answered with a slight smile. “In fact I'm wearing them today. Would you like to see?”

You clutched Haymitch’s blazer as the crowd began cheering.

“Wait wait wait. Is it safe?” Caesar asked. Katniss smiled and nodded, standing up. She faced the audience before spinning around, flames erupting from the bottom of her gown. “Woah woah woah! Steady!” Caesar called as Katniss’s spins slowed. He helped her sit back down, giving her a second to gather herself. “Katniss, that was something. That was something. Thank you for that. I have one more question for you. It's about your sister,” he paused for a second taking her hand. “We were all very moved, I think when, you volunteered for her at the reaping. Does she come to say goodbye to you?”

“Yes,” Katniss’ voice echoed across the now silent audience. You could see everyone looking incredibly sympathetic towards her.

“And what did you say to her in the end?”

“I told her that I would try to win. That I will try to win for her.” The crowd ‘awed.’

“Of course you did. And try you will,” Caesar said solemnly before take her hand and standing up. Back to him normal, excited presenter self he yelled, “Ladies and gentlemen, from District 12, Katniss Everdeen, The Girl On Fire!”

“They ate that up,” Haymitch celebrated, jostling you a bit. “Sponsors will be clamoring to help her.”

Katniss then walked in, spotting you and Haymitch just as Peeta was entering the stage. “Nice job, sweetheart,” Haymitch complimented. “And nice dress.”

“Thanks,” she muttered before turning her attention to the screen.

Peeta was sat on the chair next to Caesar, looking very comfortable with the spotlight. “How are you finding the Capitol? Don't say with a map,” Caesar said with a laugh.

“Uh, it's uh… different. It's very different,” Peeta said with a suave smile.

“Different? In what way? Give us an example.”

“Uh okay, well the showers here are weird.” The crowd laughed.

“Showers?”

“Yes.”

“We have different showers,” Caesar told the audience.

“I have a question for you Caesar,” Peeta leaned up a little. “Do I smell like roses to you?” he asked very seriously even.

“Um…” Even Caesar, a seasoned professional, seemed surprised by the question.

“Do I?” He seemed especially surprised when Peeta leaned closer, gesturing Caesar to smell him. “Do I?”

“Yeah,” Caesar agreed. “Do I smell like it?” The audience once again roared with laughter as Peeta smelled the host.

“You definitely smell better than I do,” Peeta said, leaning back.

“Well I’ve lived here longer.”

“That makes sense.”

None of the other tributes’ interviews held a candle to Peeta’s. The Capitol was eating up his charming banter and they had adored Katniss’ awkwardness coupled with her image as the girl on fire. You glanced around the room, finding the career tributes sending side eyes to Katniss. Some were trading their glares between Katniss and her district partner on the screen.

You were brought from your thoughts by Caesar’s next question. “So Peeta tell me… is there a special girl back home?”

Peeta chucked bashfully. “No, not really.”

“No? I don't believe it for a second. Look at that face. Handsome man like you, Peeta. Tell me.”

Peeta licked his lips, the only sign of nervousness tonight. “Well, there a… there's this one girl that I had a crush on forever. But I don't think she actually recognize me until the reaping.”

“Well… I'll tell you what Peeta. You go out there and you win this thing. And when you get home, she'll have to go out with you. Right folks?” The crowed cheered.

“Thanks but I uh… I don't think winnings gonna help me at all.” Peeta was picking at the arm of his chair, not making eye contact. “Because she came here with me.” All three of you froze, both you and Haymitch slowly turning to look at Katniss. She had a look of shock that slowly morphed into anger.

The crowd broke out into sounds of sympathy and shouts of support.

“Well, that's bad luck,” Caesar said, surprised again for the second time this interview.

“Yeah. It is.”

“And I wish you all the best of luck.”

~

You, Haymitch, and Katniss headed towards the elevators, Katniss still silently fuming. Once you pressed the button, Peeta rounded the corner to meet you. Katniss made a beeline for him, pushing him over into a table, knocking over a vase which broke. “What the hell was that?” she demanded.

“Stop it!” Haymitch yelled, standing between them.

“He made me look weak,” she seethed.

“He just did you a favor,” Haymitch countered. “He made you look desirable. Which in your case can’t hurt sweetheart.” Ice rushed through your veins as you realized what Peeta just did to Katniss should she be the one to come out of the games.

You stepped over broken glass, towards Peeta. “C’mon,” you said, gesturing to help him up. He reached up towards you but stopped when he saw blood coming from hi palm. “It’s okay,” you dismissed his concerns about getting you dirty, “we’ll get that bandaged up.”

He took one of your hands with his non-injured one, allowing him to stand up. “We’ll go to the infirmary. See you up there?” Haymitch nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before facing the elevator once more.

You led Peeta down the hall, finding the training room and the infirmary just off of it. “Hello?” you called, expecting someone to be there. You got no reply.

“I don’t think anyone’s here,” Peeta said, still applying pressure to his palm.

“Yea, me too. Why don’t you sit down, I’ll find some gauze and bandages,” you requested, guiding him towards a chair. You then went into one of the back rooms, finding all the supplies you’d need. You grabbed them, walking back out towards Peeta. “Let me see,” you tugged on his hand, squatting down. “So, was that thing about Katniss real?” you asked, dabbing blood away from the wound.

“Yeah,” he said bluntly, seeming to have nothing else to lose. “I used to watch her walk by to school every day.”

“Well, sorry she kind of rejected you,” you laughed. Fortunately he did too.

“Yeah, definitely one of the harsher rejections.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, the sponsors absolutely loved you.”

“Hey, what’s your deal with sponsors?” Peeta asked. You froze, trying not to show it. “I mean you change whenever sponsors are mentioned.”

You huffed. No point in keeping this kid in the dark. “Because the sponsors who saved my life feel… entitled to me. And it’s become this situation where people pay Snow, and in return they get me for the night.”

“Oh…” Peeta said. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t be,” you cut him off. “It’s the price I pay for getting to love Haymitch. If not for him, I’d be long gone by now.”

“Do the people know about you and Haymitch?”

“No, Snow wants me to seem available. Even if we were allowed to be a couple publicly I doubt it’d change much. The Capitol loves to take things from the districts. I suppose my… predicament is also Haymitch’s punishment.”

“Can I ask— and I don’t mean to be rude—” you laughed internally at that. You were pretty sure this kid didn’t have a rude bone in his body. “Why are you with Haymitch? He’s like 15 years older than you and an alcoholic.”

You chuckled a little at the ridiculousness of it. Many others who knew about your relationship had asked you the same. “Because he was there for me my entire games. Even after he was beaten down by the Capitol and cynical about the world, he was there for me, meanwhile I had absolutely no one else. I won my games out of spite… Haymitch has become my only reason to live.” Peeta sat speechless, not sure what to say. “C’mon,” you said, taping down his bandage, “let’s get you to bed.”

You headed upstairs, making small talk as if you hadn’t just poured out your heart to this kid. You made your way into Haymitch’s room where he was laying on the bed, watching a holographic television. “Hey, how’s the kid?”

“He’ll be fine, just sucks he has to go into the arena with a cut open hand,” you said, lying down next to Haymitch. He rolled closer to you, pulling down the neckline of your dress a little, revealing bruises you didn’t cover up with makeup. Your presence had been requested by a Capitol man not long after Katniss’ 11 was announced. As he was using your body he demanded to know how Katniss scored an 11 and when you refused to tell him, he got violent until a couple avoxes that had been in the room had to pry him off of you.

“They’re getting more violent,” Haymitch noted, an edge of anger in his voice. “Y/N this is getting really dangerous.”

“There’s nothing either of us can do about it,” you sighed. “I’m doing this until I’m no longer desirable.”

“You’ll always be desirable to me,” Haymitch murmured, pressing his lips to yours. He rolled more so he was on top of you, sliding his hands down your body.

You placed a firm hand on his chest, pressing against him. Taking the hint Haymitch pulled away from you. “Not right now, I want to wash him off me first.”

“Yeah, of course. Take as much time as you need,” he said, pressing a peck to your lips before getting off of you.

~

The next morning both you and Haymitch walked Peeta to his tube, Katniss having decided to go with Cinna, the two of them becoming close over the past couple days.

“Remember, run away from the Cornucopia, nothing in there is worth getting killed in the first two minutes,” you advised. “If you join an alliance leave early, remember no one in there is your friend. Only one person comes out.”

Peeta nodded nervously, standing in front of the platform.

“I really do, sincerely hope I get to see you again,” you said, pulling him into a hug.

As you stepped back, Haymitch reached forward, taking Peeta’s hand, shaking it. “We’re going to try our best to help you in there.”

You watched nervously with the other victors as the time counted down. “3… 2… 1.” The tributes ran to the cornucopia. You watched as Peeta ran off into the woods along with two others. As for Katniss she ran towards the cornucopia, stopping only a couple feet in. She looked around, trying to figure out what to do as you internally cursed her for not having a plan.

Fortunately all the career tributes who had weapons were too distracted, slaughtering the others tributes who also went for supplies. Which gave Katniss enough time to decide to grab a backpack further away from the cornucopia than the weapons. She was suddenly knocked to the ground by another fleeing tribute before he was taken down by the girl from District 2 with the knives. She flung another one at Katniss which would’ve hit her in the chest had she not used the backpack as a shield. Taking the knife out of the backpack, she ran for the trees. Fortunately the girl with the knives lost interest in Katniss.

By the time the bloodbath was over there were 11 dead children, and you needed a drink. Seemingly reading your mind, Finnick appeared with a whiskey. “Sorry about your tribute,” you muttered into the drink.

Finnick shrugged sadly. “He was only 12. Didn’t have much of a chance anyways. Just sad that no one volunteered for him.”

“Yeah,” you agreed softly.

“I see your human torches are still alive. Congratulations.”

You chuckled. “Yeah well only one listened to me. Katniss got lucky the other careers didn’t target her as soon as that timer went off.” You looked over at Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, and Enobaria who were observing their tributes as they officially formed their alliance. Every other tribute had either fled or laid dead, leaving them in control of all the weapons and supplies.

Suddenly, Peeta and the boy from District 3 came out of the woods, hands raised high in surrender. “No Peeta,” you whispered under your breath as Beetee came over to you.

“They’ve formed an alliance,” he commented.

“Yeah one that’ll get them killed as soon as they eliminate their biggest threat: Katniss.”

“I think Byte will prove to be a bit more useful to the careers than yours,” Beetee said in a slightly excited way. “No offense.”

“None taken,” you muttered. It wasn’t uncommon for victors to take pride in their tributes, especially the ones that had a shot at winning. No one wanted to watch the child they had just trained for a week get slaughtered.

“Sorry about your tribute Finnick,” Beetee said. Finnick only hummed a response.

You all watched as Peeta and Byte acquired the careers’ trust. With Byte saying he could rig the explosives to protect their supplies. And Peeta promising that he could help find Katniss. Finnick sucked air through his teeth. “Cold blooded. Say you’re in love with the girl from your district only to create an alliance to hunt her down.”

“Unless he’s slitting all their throats in their sleep, they’re going to kill him the first chance they get,” you said.

Suddenly peacekeepers entered the room, making a beeline for you and Finnick. Seeing the threat, Haymitch was immediately by your side, wrapping a protective arm around your waist.

“Finnick Odair,” you silently breathed a sigh of relief, “your presence is requested.” Finnick huffed, used to the drill, before handing you his drink and begrudgingly heading off with them.

“Glad it wasn’t you. I don’t think your body could handle it,” Haymitch muttered against your hair in relief, referring to the wounded state you had been returning to him in.

Part II | Masterlist | Part IV

[gretavangroupie]

Valor (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jake x Reader, Daniel x Reader

Word Count: 25.1k

Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin'. Angst: Struggle and Poverty, Emotional Manipulation, Abandonment, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Fire & Property Loss, Physical Fighting, Blood, Mentions of Death, Mention of Suicide, Heavy Angst, Reckless Driving, Allusions to Shady Activities, Coercion, Gambling, Betting. Smut: Kissing, Heavy Petting, Allusions to Sex.

Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A new project in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

HER POV

You twist your fingers together nervously waiting for them to walk your way. You saw the other car pull away in a cloud of dust, but the two of them still stood in the same spot, talking amongst themselves. You swallowed anxiously as you saw them start to head your way, sitting up a little taller in the front seat of Jake’s truck. 

Jake opens the door and slides in behind the wheel, as Danny leans into the passenger side window. “What do you think, you hungry?” he asks, looking down at you beneath his dark lashes. 

“Yeah, I could probably stand to eat something.” you pause, looking over towards Jake. “Plus it’s his birthday…”

“Yeah it is…What do you think Jake? Louie’s? My treat?” he asks, earning him a soft smile and a nod. 

“Yeah, sounds good. Drop your bike at the shop first?” 

Danny nods and smacks his hand gently against the windowsill, pushing away with a smile as he heads towards his bike. Positioning himself on the seat, he starts the bike and takes off first, Jake following behind him. 

“So… Wha–what was the meeting about, or can you tell me?” you ask, as Jake pulls a cigarette from the carton in his pocket. He flicks the carved zippo to life, holding the flame to the tip and taking a long drag. 

“Well, that man was at the poker game the other night. Just wanted to talk to me and Danny is all.” he answers, the cigarette dancing around his lips as he spoke. 

“That’s it? That seems sort of strange? Why didn’t he just come to your shop?” you ask, confused. 

“Nothin’ to worry ‘bout.” he says, turning the wheel toward the shop. You sighed, feeling the same feeling that they were holding things back from you again. None of your business, right? 

You blinked back the confusion, scooting over so Danny could hop in the passenger seat beside you. 

“I’m starving. I think it’s meatloaf night!” Danny rubbed his hands together, and you noticed just how hungry you had gotten, too. It was mere minutes before you were pulling into the parking lot of Louie’s. You’d really forgotten just how small this town was. 

As you made your way to the front door Daniel held it open for you to enter first, seeing Geraldine working the counter. She motions for the three of you to sit wherever, so you follow Jake’s lead to a small booth in the corner. You slide in first, Danny taking the spot next to you as Jake sat across. Seconds later Geraldine was greeting you with menus and mugs.

She poured steaming hot coffee into the mugs, before telling you she’d be back. Your eyes scanned over the menu, not really feeling like the days special of meatloaf.

“Did’ya tell her?” Danny asked, looking across the table to Jake. 

“Nah.” he grumbled, not bothering to look at Daniel.

“Tell me what?” you ask, folding your menu and setting it in front of you. 

Jake’s eyes flashed to yours, before meeting Danny’s. “Okay, so the guy didn’t just want to talk to us.” he starts, pausing to run his fingers over his chin. “He saw us fight the other night.”

“Okay and…” you press. 

“And, he wants us to fight in matches.” Danny finishes, pulling his folded hands in front of his face. 

“Matches? Like– Like boxing or something?” you question, with a furrowed brow. 

“Yes, but not boxing. Fighting. For money.” Danny answers. 

“What? Why would he– Why you two? I’m confused.” 

“So are we, but he said he sees something in us.” Danny took a deep breath and turned his body toward you to speak directly. “Look, there’s maybe a bit you don’t know about me, Y/N.” He confesses. “Since I was young, I’ve always been a bit of a fighter. I like to tussle. And I guess, I’m kinda good at it?” His eyes squinted as he said the words, blowing the steam off the top of his mug. 

Your eyes catch Jake’s as he silently confirms Danny’s admission with a quick nod. “Taught me how to fight, that’s for damn sure…” 

“Okay, so he saw you two fight at the poker game, and he thinks you’re good enough to fight in matches for money?” you ask Danny. 

“Yeah, but not just me. Both of us. He wants both of us to fight.” he says, letting his eyes trail over to Jake.

“Money…How much money?” you ask. 

“Don’t know for sure, but he said the word thousands.” Danny answered, embellishing the last word with a twirl of his hand. 

Hold the phone. “You two aren’t actually considering this are you? I mean, you don’t even know this guy. You have no idea what you could be actually walking into. What if– What if it’s a set up or something?” you question. 

“No risk, no reward.” Danny touts. 

“We can’t just drop fuckin’ everything to go fight, Daniel.” Jake says. 

He crosses his arms and sits back in the booth, “I think we should do it.” He digs around in his pocket, pulling out a business card and slapping it on the table. You snatch it up, looking at the name and the phone number, before flipping it over. Blank. 

“This says nothing. It’s just his name and number…” you question. 

You watched as Jake started bobbing his eyes around again, like they both did the day you met them. Always paranoid. “He said this shit was underground. Doubt Oscar is even his real name.” Jake quips, twisting the paper card between his fingers. 

“Okay, so say this isn’t some scam or some shit, and you two go and fight… What about the shop? What about my car?” you ask.

“Parts for your car won’t be here for another week and a half. This fight is in a few days, so...” Danny says, helping you piece this together. 

“Okay so, if he’s right, and you two do end up winning some money, it would help you pay that guy back right?” you ask. Jake nods his head, you can tell he is considering every single pro and con, while Danny already has his bags packed. 

Geraldine walks back over towards the table, effectively shutting all of you up. “You guys know what you’d like?” she asks, pulling her pen and pad from her apron. 

“I’ll take the special, how it comes.” Jake says, followed by Danny gesturing a two.

“Alright, two specials, and you hun?” she asks, eyes meeting yours. 

“Could I please do… a BLT?” you ask, closing your menu and watching her scribble it down.

“Be right up.” she nods, walking away towards the kitchen. 

“Okay, anyways…” you pause, making sure she’s out of earshot. “Say you two go fight, what happens when you get injured or something? How will you be able to work?”

“Jake and I have been fighting each other for a long fuckin’ time. Has yet to be a fight we haven't bounced back from the next day.” Danny says, smugly. 

“Yeah, but you aren’t fighting Jake. You’re fighting god knows who!” you shout, quickly reining it in. 

“Do you think we’re gonna lose, Y/N?” Danny laughs. 

“I don’t know! But I don’t want either of you to get hurt!” you say, laying your fist on the table. 

“You’ve gotta trust us. Can you trust us, Y/N?” he asks. 

You let out a long deep sigh and look up to Jake, his eyes reassuring you. “Okay, yeah… But for the record I still think this is all a giant set up, and a really bad idea.”

A small laugh leaves Danny’s chest, “Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out.” 

—

The three of you push your nearly empty plates towards the center of the table, the food disappearing quickly from your plates. The conversation had shifted away from the proposition from Oscar and into reminiscing about years past. Much of the meal was filled with laughter between the two guys, one funny memory spurring on the next. 

You felt a tingle of excitement in your chest as you remembered the little surprise you had pulled together for Jake earlier this morning. You bit your lips together to conceal your smile, but Jake noticed. Just as he was about to ask, Bubba stepped up to the table, sliding into the booth next to him. 

“Well, another year huh, boy?” he said, throwing his arm around Jake’s shoulder.

“That’s what they tell me.” he laughs, making room in the booth. 

“You know, you’d think with time, things would get a bit easier on us but have ta say feels a little worse each year.” he says sullenly, twisting his fingertip around his thumb. 

“Hell of a way to spend a birthday ain’t it…” Jake quips. 

“I know, I’m sorry son.” Bubba says, squeezing Jake’s shoulder.  “He was a good man beneath it all, I promise yeh. I know he’d be proud of his boys.” 

“I reckon you went to that meetin’ right?” he asks. 

“We did.” Danny answers. “What’s that guy's deal?”

“Well, he rolled into town a few days ago. Stopped in here for a bite to eat, took the seat next to mine at the counter. We got chattin’ for a spell, and mentioned your name. Said he’d heard ‘bout some boys that did some fightin’. I said, ooooh yes, I know those boys. Invited him to the poker game, since it seemed like he mighta had some money to blow. Led em’ right to yeh, and you boys put on quite the little spectacle for ‘em. Saw him the next day, and told me he wanted to arrange a meetin’. And well, you know the rest.”

“Yeah, Bubba…He wants us to– he wants us to fight in underground matches. NHB fightin’.” Danny says, hesitantly. 

“I figured as much. You boys considerin’ it?” he asks, leaning into his elbows on the table. 

“Talkin’ about it. What do you think?” Jake asks, looking over to him. 

He sniffles, and looks towards the door before turning back to the three of you. “I think there's some good money to be had in those kinds of fights. ‘Specially if they’re run clean. Think you two boys could do fairly well for yerselves.”

“So you think we should do it?” Danny asks, a child-like innocence on his face as he asks Bubba for his approval.

“Think anythings’ worth tryin’ once. Least to say ya did.” he answers, and you almost see Jake’s body relax. “I have a good feelin’ bout him, boys. Think you should give it a go. Think there’s a reason he came to town lookin’ for you two.”

Jake nods his head and looks at Daniel, the two of them communicating silently as Wanda brings the check over. Bubba snatches it up off the table as he slides out of the booth, heading towards the register. “Happy Birthday, Jacob.” 

—

DANNY POV

“I have a surprise when we get home.” Y/N’s voice was as soft as butter on the ride back from the diner, and your heart skipped a beat when she referred to the place as home. You let your hand run over her thigh in the darkness of the cab, creeping it closer to the heat between her legs. 

“Is it for me?” You said flirtatiously, gripping your hand into her thigh. 

She lightly slapped you across the chest. “No, dummy. It’s not your birthday, now, is it?”

You laughed through your teeth, tapping the top of her leg before removing your hand. “When even is your birthday, Danny?” 

“Not until the winter, babe.” You thought ahead, realizing that really, neither you nor Jake ever did anything special for your birthdays. Never had enough money. Never had enough reason to care. 

“You don’t need to do anything else for me, seriously. This has already been a better day than I’ve had in a long, long time.” Jake interjected. And you believed him. He seemed so upbeat today. Like good things were on the horizon. Like he had a sparkle in his eye. 

“S’not much, nothing extravagant. Just thought maybe you’d like a cherry on top of your day.” You glanced out of the corner of your eye to see Y/N gently lay her hand across Jake’s upper thigh, petting it sweetly before ripping it away as soon as her sentence was finished. It made your breath catch in your throat. Why did she just touch him there?

“Pull over here, I need to go do something.” You motioned for Jake to pull into the lot of the motel, seeing that the light in the lobby was still buzzing a dull fluorescent yellow. Jake skidded the tires into the lot, pulling in right up front. 

“What are you gonna do?” He asked, the tone of his voice letting you know he was going to follow you inside. 

“Just stay here, I’ll be right back.” You flung the door open and slammed it shut, just a little pissed off that you saw Y/N’s hand brushing dangerously high on Jake’s leg. 

Being met with Wanda’s now unfamiliar face after knowing her for so many years felt strange; it was like she was a completely different person. Stature, clothing, overall appearance…ten years ago you would have never guessed this would be how she ended up. But what had changed the most was her personality. She wasn’t the sweet and witty lady you always knew. Now she was wily, deceitful, and overall the most unaccommodating motel owner you’d ever met. 

“Well if it isn’t little Danny come to grace my presence. How’s business, boy?” She yelled, squinting through one eye. 

“Could ask you the same, Wanda. But I think I already know the answer.” You firmly placed both hands on the counter, straightening out your elbows to lean down. “I need to check the person out of room number seven.”

You watched as Wanda lifted her glasses to her wrinkled nose, sarcastically smiling with her mouthful of only a few teeth. “Oh, the girly come from outa town. She paid for seven nights. Still got four to go.”

“Right well she’s checking out, she won’t be back. And I’m here to collect the difference for the nights she won’t be stayin’.” You responded, feeling the gall rise up in your chest. 

Wanda stepped forward and raised her voice to an even louder volume than it already was. She punched her pointer finger down to her ledger book, right over top of Y/N’s name, ironically the last person to have checked in to the motel since. “It’s non-refundable, and non-negotiable. She signed her name here, and my policy says—”

“Your policies don’t mean shit to me, Wanda. You probably didn’t even tell her that when she signed, did you?” You were seething. “Plus I know you overcharged the hell out of her…thirty-five dollars a night? Really Wanda?” You took your fingertips and pushed the ledger back toward her. 

Wanda’s jaw clenched closed as you watched her face get hot. “Now what you ain’t gonna do is walk up in my establishment and tell me how to run my business, boy!” You felt the spit travel from her mouth onto your face as she yelled across the countertop. “Huh, if Ace was still alive he would have your ass—”

“If Ace was still alive this town would be in a lot better shape than it is now!” You lurched toward her. How dare she bring up Ace’s name like that. “And this isn’t your establishment, Wanda, shit. If Bubba was still running it you wouldn’t have gutters fallin’ off the building and the police here every single fuckin’ night!” 

It had turned into a screaming match. You just knew Jake and Y/N were getting a show from inside the truck. But you’d been wanting to go in on Wanda for a long time, now. This just gave you extra reason to speak your piece. 

Your mind thought back to when Bubba and Wanda were married not eight or so years back…the motel was actually thriving. It was one of the only businesses in Joslyn that was worth a damn. Bubba kept the building in top shape, and Wanda ran all the housekeeping. They did it by themselves, and they did it well. 

Then once Ace died, and Teddy took over holding the reins of the town, everything went downhill. Wanda got in with the wrong crowds, started fighting and arguing with Bubba…the people who were once the ones you looked to for comfort in your younger years had turned into the poster-people for the phrase ‘nasty divorce’. Bubba couldn’t do it anymore. She asked for a divorce. And Bubba lost everything. 

“Four nights’ stay total. You can even keep the pocket change.” You held your hand out, wiggling your fingers to let her know you weren’t leaving this room until you had the cash in your hand. And she knew you… she knew you were serious. 

“That’s my fuckin’ money, Danny.” She spat, her voice lowered now. 

You rolled your eyes. This is was getting to be a chore. You leaned in close again, the dirty smell of the musty carpet below your boots and the asbestos-ridden walls suddenly enveloping your senses. “Hm, be a shame if I called the state and reported my stay here was full of rat shit, bed bugs, and roaches, wouldn’t it? Black mold in my shower?” You raised your eyebrows, knowing the threat might not be all untrue. But the last thing she needed was an inspection from the state and probable shut-down, so she conceded. 

She limped back to the back room and re-emerged with a handful of cash, gritting her teeth after licking her fingers, counting the bills back out to you one by one. 

“That all?” You demanded to know, flattening your hands across the counter. “Because she’s out in the truck, I’ll come right the fuck back in here if this isn’t it, Wanda.”

“Yes that’s fuckin’ it, Daniel. Now get the hell out of my lobby ‘fore I call the law on you for harassment.” She barked. 

You wadded the cash up and stuck it in your pocket, offering her the tiniest nod of your head. You turned to push the front door open before stopping yourself short, and turning back around to face her again. 

“Oh, I almost forgot. We know you let Teddy know she had money. Sent Joey and Tanya out to see if she was there…we aren’t fuckin’ stupid, Wanda…plotting to find her and take her money… Snitchin’ on your guests’ whereabouts ain’t good professional practice, hm?” You raised an eyebrow to her before backing up again. 

“Just tell your buddies up the road to stay the fuck away from her.” You spat again before shoving your way through her door, letting the old wooden slats rattle hard behind you. 

——

JAKE POV

As you pulled into the driveway of the shop the sun was down and a blanket of stars littered the sky. You sat and watched as Y/N and Daniel exited your truck, Daniel shutting the door behind the two of them. Your eyes followed her as she and Danny made their way toward the front door, hand in hand. The sound of the rumbling engine tuned out every other sound, and you watched as their bodies cast shadows on the building from the beam of your headlights. You could tell he wanted to be near her, feel her touch… even if it was just a little bit. You’d only been around her for less than a week, but the energy that emanated from her was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. And you knew Danny felt it too. 

It hurt your heart a little to admit that you noticed her body language didn’t always match with his. Not all the time, and not obviously, but it was there. Within seconds, she released his hand, bounding forward as he pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. 

She had a sort of giddy excitement on her face sending a little shiver through your body as you pulled the keys from the ignition. You reached over and locked the passenger door before stepping out and locking your own, letting the heavy metal door swing shut. 

You walked slowly into the house, hearing a little chatter coming from the kitchen and deciding to join in on it. Your fingers fidgeted with the zippo in your pocket, letting your nails gently scrape over the carvings in the metal. 

“Okay, okay sit, sit!” Y/N instructed. “And don’t look! It’s a surprise.”

You tossed Daniel a questioning look and she shrugged his shoulders, clearly not privy to her surprise either. You both sat at the kitchen table, turning your attention away from whatever she was doing, but hearing the freezer door open and shut and a plate hit the countertop. She opened and closed a few drawers in search of something, but eventually gave up with a huff. 

“Okay, I don’t think you guys have any candles, but…you get the idea.” she says, walking towards you with the plate. “Oh wait! Where’s your lighter?” she asks, reaching her hand out. 

You lean over, shoving your hand in your pocket to retrieve the item, presenting it to her in the palm of your hand.

“Okay…” she says, flicking it open and producing a flame. “We’re just going to pretend, okay?” she says as she hovers the lighter over the plate, which holds a slightly frozen piece of bread, soaked in milk, sprinkled with sugar and pinch of cinnamon. A birthday cake. You felt your heart clench, as you realized that this is probably the first birthday cake you’d ever had.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat as your eyes met hers, the flame flickering as it reflected into her eyes. She began to softly and nervously sing, “Happy birthday to you…Happy birthday to you…Happy birthday dear Jake…Happy birthday to…you…”

You couldn’t help the tears that began to well in your eyes, trying your hardest to fight them away as you nodded your head feeling more shy than ever before. “Th-thank you.”

“Blow out the flame…” she pauses, “Make a wish.” her eyes were locked on yours and as you stared at her you could hardly tear your eyes away. Had anyone ever cared this much? The soft orange glow from the small flame lit up her entire face, and her smile was warm and genuine. She wasn’t doing this because she had to, she was doing this because she wanted to. For you. 

As you let your eyes take sight of the dancing flame you knew exactly what you wanted to wish for. But should you? Wishes never came true anyways, right? What would it hurt?

You swallowed, and took a deep breath, blowing out the flame as she let the familiar sound of the metallic lid flick shut. You made your wish, even though you knew you shouldn’t. She placed the plate in front of you and presented you with a spoon. “Happy Birthday, Jake. I know it’s not much, but–”

“Thank you.” you interrupted, reaching for her hand and holding her soft fingers in yours. “It’s more than I’ve ever had.” you say truthfully. Your eyes flick over to Daniel, who is grinning as he watches, nodding his head in approval. You look back at her, squeezing her hand before letting it go, even though you really didn’t want to. 

She walks back over to the freezer, grabbing two more plates she had prepared earlier in the day, and two more spoons. She placed a plate and spoon in front of Daniel, as he squeezed her hip in thanks, before grabbing her own and sitting down at the table with you. It was quiet as the three of you enjoyed your little dessert, in a solemn but happy moment.

“Did you… know that cinnamon is my favorite?” you ask, breaking the silence. 

“No, I just…My mom…she used to make this for me when I had a bad day at school, or if she knew I was feeling sad about something. Always said a pinch of cinnamon was her special secret ingredient. Kind of became a comfort thing for me. I know it’s not really the same as a real birthday cake, but it’s what I could do. I just wanted you to have something…” she explained, almost as if she felt guilty for not doing more. 

“Y/N, this is more than I ever expected, more than I’ve ever had. We’ve ever had. Danny will back me up on this.” you said, nodding towards him. 

“He’s right. This is…special for us. No one’s ever cared.” he smiled at her, brushing his knuckles against her arm. 

“Thank you for thinking of me. Made my whole day.” you said, offering her a smile. 

“You’re welcome, Jake.” she said sweetly. You watch her bite her lips together, and you almost think there's more she wants to say, but she quickly looks back down to her plate, scooping her spoon into her dessert. 

Daniel stands from the table and puts his plate into the sink, “I’ll be right back, okay?” he said, running his hand over her shoulders as he made his way down the hallway. 

You hear the front door close and realize it’s just the two of you now, and you let your eyes nervously flick up to look at her. She’s staring off into space, probably still thinking about her mom or maybe the last time she had this. Again you find yourself unable to look away from her, that is, until she looks back at you. 

“Jake?” she asks. 

You swallow thickly, “Yes?”

“Can I ask you a question?” she pauses, “And you tell me the truth?”

You bite your lips together, and let out a breath through your nose, “I can try.”

“If those guys get to me somehow…Are they going to hurt me?” she asks, eyes searching yours. 

“Honestly, yes. Probably.” you answer, seeing panic shoot across her face. “But I’ll never let them.”

“You swear?” she pleads. 

“Between me and Danny… No one is layin’ a finger on you. I promise you that.” you say confidently, knowing that for certain.

She nods her head and looks down at her plate again, swirling her spoon through the melted icy milk. “Thank you…For looking out for me and everything. I know you didn’t sign up for all of this.”

You place your hand on top of hers as it lies on the table, gently squeezing her hand, silently reassuring her that she’s no burden to either you or Daniel. Your mind wanders off to the visit from Joey the other day, and you wonder if her fears really are warranted. Would they take her? Would they hurt her? But more importantly you wonder if they knew that you threw the game the other night. Surely they had to be getting suspicious after so many wins. Would they use her to send a message?

Suddenly she stands from the table, grabbing her plate and yours before walking over to the sink to wash them. You watch her as she does it, trying to block out the bad thoughts swirling through your mind as your eyes focus on the sway of her hips. 

She dries the plates and puts them back in the cabinet, hanging the kitchen towel from the stove handle as you watch. She turns back to you and rests her hands on the back of a chair. “Think I’m gonna go take a shower, and go to bed.”

You stand to meet her, mimicking her stance as you push in your own chair. “Okay, Daniel will be back soon I’m sure. But hey, I just—thank you again…for all of this. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you did that. I don’t think anyone’s ever sang me happy birthday before. If they did I don’t remember it…”

She smiles and steps forward, wrapping her arms around your body, and pulling you in for a surprising hug. You’re stiff for a moment, unsure of the last time you really received a genuine hug from anyone, but once the shock wears off, you feel a warmth spread through your chest and a tingle in your stomach. Her head is pressed to your chest, and you can smell her hair and her perfume and the tingles in your stomach start to ripple through your entire body at the feeling of her so close to you. You nervously wrap your arms around her shoulders, pulling her in and letting your fingertips memorize the feeling of her skin beneath them.

“You’re welcome Jake.” she breathes into your chest, almost a whisper. Then, all too quickly she pulls away, letting her hands linger as long as possible before breaking away. Acting quickly you grab her hand softly in yours as you pull her back towards you, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek letting your lips linger a second too long. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You can feel her skin heat beneath your lips as she pulls away, a dark blush tinting her skin as she stifles a smile. You drop her hand and let her step away, shoving your hands into your pockets as she responds. “Goodnight, Jake. Happy Birthday.”

She retreats down the hallway, pausing and offering you one more quick glance over her shoulder before slipping into the bathroom and closing the door. 

—

You could see her face, the orange of the flame glowing onto the apples of her cheeks, the flame flickering and dancing around in the reflection of her eyes. You could see her lips moving, so soft and pink, although no sound came out. You could stare at her like that for hours, just watching the way her fingers gripped your lighter, how effortlessly she pressed the igniter, the way her tongue glided over her lips as she did so. She was gorgeous, and every day you spent with her you began to realize that more and more. 

Black smoke started to gather behind her, thick and dense, you could hardly see her anymore as it crept forward. Soon it completely enveloped her, though she was completely unphased. You tried to grab for her but your hand went right through her, as if she was made of smoke too. You looked around, panicked to know where the smoke was coming from but you couldn’t see anything other than the thick black clouds completely obstructing your field of vision. It was getting harder to breathe, completely unable to take a deep breath as you choked on the smoke filling your lungs. It burned, you could feel it in your chest, taste the ashiness of the smoke on your tongue, but still you couldn’t reach for her, in fact you couldn’t move at all. 

You tried to yell for help, but no sound came out. You could still see Y/N in front of you, smiling as she continued to mouth the words to the birthday song you’d always desperately wanted to hear. You tried to wave away the smoke burning your eyes, reaching for her again, but this time as your hand reached for her she disappeared into the thick smoke, as if she was never there at all. Trying to take a deep breath you choked on the hot smoke, coughing and sputtering as the smoke seemed to completely devour you until all you could see was the darkness.

You shot up in your bed, sweating and gasping for air, pushing your hair off of your face and looking towards the alarm clock on your nightstand that read 3:42am. But that’s when you smelled it. It smelled just like your dream. Was that actual smoke? 

You jumped out of bed, eyes scanning the room for a pair of jeans, pants, anything you could find. As you pulled on a pair of dirty jeans you noticed the flicker of orange glowing through your bedroom window, stepping over to it and flicking open the blinds. You could feel the heat radiating from the crack in the window. Holy fuck.

You bolted out into the hallway, pounding your fist on Danny’s door. “Danny we’ve got a fire! Get the fuck up!” you yelled. You quickly grabbed your shop keys, running out to the garage, and flipping on the lights. They began to buzz to life but you could hardly hear it over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You ran to the opposite side of the garage, sliding into your work boots as you grabbed the old, dusty, fire extinguishers from the storage rack. You heard the shop door swing open, and you whipped your head to find Daniel pulling a shirt over his head. 

“The fucks’ on fire?!” he yelled.

“Somethin’! Smell woke me, saw the flames from my window! Open the bay door, and grab the hose! Y/N!?” you called out. 

“She’s coming! She’s calling the fire department.” he answered, pulling the metal chain as quickly as he could, watching the garage door fly up. 

“Oh motherfuck it’s my fucking shed!” he yelled, running towards the flames.

You ran after him, pulling the pin on the extinguisher, but you knew from the looks of it, that your small extinguisher would be no match for this blaze. You tried anyways, knowing that hundreds of dollars worth of parts and materials sat in that shed, even a few spare bikes. This would be a total loss for him. 

He grabbed the hose, spinning the spigot and letting the water spray against the vicious flames in a feeble attempt to quell them. You could hear the fire truck in the distance and felt thankful that Y/N had the clarity of mind to call them, while your first instinct was to try and fix it yourself. Though, that was kind of how you lived your life. How could you depend on anyone but yourself?

“Danny, back up!” you yelled, the roar of the burning shed almost deafening. He ran towards the shed, nearly burning himself in the licks of the flames.

“I can’t I gotta– I gotta get my bikes… My tools–” he stammered, knowing in that moment exactly what he was losing. 

“I’ll fucking replace them! I can’t replace you! Get the fuck back!” you screamed, seeing Y/N rushing out to you from the corner of your eye. You were sweating from the heat, sweat falling in streams down your chest as you tried not to breathe in the thick smoke filling the air. 

“What happened!? What’s happening?!” she cried, running up behind you. Daniel walked over, throwing the hose to the ground in defeat as the fire truck pulled into the gravel lot. 

“I think we’re bein’ sent a message.” you answer.

“Message received, loud and fuckin’ clear.” Danny said, grabbing Y/N, and wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

The firefighters piled out of the truck, running the hose to the hydrant at the front of the property. Within seconds the water was pummeling the flames, making quick work of a seemingly out of control fire. In a way you felt relieved that it was only a parts shed, and not your full garage, and you knew it would take a little bit of time for Daniel to come to that same realization.

—

They worked the fire until it was just a dripping mess of blackened rubble and ash, the three of you watching on as the light of the day started to peak over the horizon. As Daniel talked to a firefighter, Y/N walked over towards you, leaning her shoulder into yours as you both stared off towards the smoking shed. 

“You should go get some sleep…” you say, nodding your head towards the house. “We’ve got this.”

“No, I’m not leaving you two to deal with this alone.” she insisted, as her eyes met yours. “I feel like this is all my fault.”

You shook your head. How could she think this was her fault?

“This wouldn’t have happened if my stupid car hadn’t broken down. If I hadn’t stopped here and intruded into your life.” she scolded herself. 

Your hand brushed the back of hers as it hung at your side, “M’kinda glad you did.” you admit quietly, offering a shy grin. 

Her fingertips grazed across yours as she turned to face you with her own nervous smile, “I guess I kinda am too. I wanted an adventure, right?”

You felt your chest grow warm as you nodded. “That you did.” you pause, watching the sun start to rise. “Really, go back to bed. I promise we’ll be fine out here.”

“Dunno if I’ll be able to sleep with all of this goin’ on. Been a little bit on edge lately. Not sleeping too well. Especially…by myself.” she admits, almost seeming a little embarrassed. 

“Just try? We’re right out here, and if you can’t…I’ll… send Danny in for a little while, and I can clean up.” you answer, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“And… if I’d rather your company?” she breathed, hesitantly.

You huffed out a nervous laugh, licking your bottom lip before biting them together. You grabbed her hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze in place of words you knew you couldn’t speak. She seemed to understand as she nodded her head again, and looked at you for a second before walking over to Daniel whispering in his ear. Your eyes met hers again as she made her way back to the door, giving you one last glance before disappearing into the house. You knew you and Daniel had a lot of work to do to clean this up before you could move on with your day, and once you got the okay from firefighters, it would be full steam ahead. 

—

So what, was this a war declaration?

You stood outside smoking a cigarette in the early morning light, watching as tiny puffs of smoke still rose from the ashes of his shed. 

But why? A war on what? You already owed them so much money…what more could they want?

You tossed your cigarette to the ground, stomping it out before walking toward the piles of smoldering rubble and ash, kicking around to see if there was anything you could save. A few old tools, a metal stool, and some more expensive parts that he had locked in a box looked like they might have survived. 

Why the fuck does Teddy hate you so much? Constantly doing everything in his power to make your life a living hell…and you have never done anything in retaliation. He was just a bully that lost the love of his life twenty-some years ago, and you’re the product of his heartbreak. Like you could fuckin’ help it. Ace ended his own life…what else did he want?

You let the water get extra hot as you scrubbed away at the parts you were able to salvage, watching as the dirty, soapy water spun down the drain of the shop sink. You felt like the fire that burned last night was now burning in your chest, a madness brewing that you’d never felt before. How dare Teddy catch your property on fire, the son of a bitch…

You felt horribly for Danny losing all these parts and tools, most of them he’d collected since he was a kid, before he even made his way into you and Ace’s home. One day you would replace them all, one day you would pay him back…

“What’re you doin’?” Danny’s sleepy voice broke you from your thoughts. 

“Ah, just found a few things that looked salvageable. Gettin’ some of the soot off.” You shook the water from your hands as you set a tin box on a towel beside the sink. 

“Thanks, man. You didn’t have to do that…” Danny rested his hands against the deep sink, seeing what else you brought in. “Shit, did you sleep at all last night?” Danny asked through a harsh yawn. 

You scrunched your face. “A little. In and out, mostly. Kept wakin’ up.”

“Me fuckin’ too.” He huffed. “Y/N hasn’t been sleeping good either. Up and down all night.”

Your brow furrowed as you think back to just a few days ago, and how peacefully she slept next to you. “Hmm…probably the stress of everything…”

“Yeah probably.” he pauses, “Man, I applaud firefighters, though. That shit was exhausting.” You let a little laugh escape your chest, knowing the best medicine for chaos was to laugh your way through it. 

You watched as Danny fingered through the pile of tools in the sink. “You know what we gotta do, right?”

You nodded solemnly. “Fuck. Yeah…we gotta call Oscar. Need this motherfucker paid off and off our backs.” 

“You really think he’ll stop once we pay him, though? Swear he does this shit for sport now…”

He had a point. Even after paying Teddy all of your dad’s debts, would he ever really stop harassing you? Probably not… you wagered. 

“Gotta fuckin’ try somethin’. Got a bit more involved these past few days, hasn’t it?” You raised your eyebrows to Danny, gesturing back to his bedroom with your eyes. 

“Yeah…yeah it has. Gotta get her to Atlanta, man.”

——

You let your finger dial the rotary, while the other one intently followed the phone number off the card. You took a deep breath as you pulled the phone up to your ear, listening to the tone ring out. Danny sat in Ace’s chair, leaning in closely to listen to the impending conversation. You tapped your fingers nervously on the desk as you heard Y/N downstairs scrounging up something for breakfast. 

“Talk to me.” The voice on the other end finally picked up. 

“Hello, yeah, I’m calling for Oscar, please.” Your eyes darted anxiously to Danny. 

“Who’s ringin’?”

“Uh, Jake, from…Ace’s Garage…”

“Oh. He’s been expectin’ yeh. Hold on.”

Your eyes widened again as you whispered to Danny, covering the speaker with your palm. “We’re 100% sure we wanna do this, right?”

“Fuck yes!” He whisper-yelled, throwing up a fist to your face. “I swear to god, Jake, if you bitch out…”

“Jacob, nice to finally hear from yeh. Have a little time to think about my proposition?” Oscar’s voice was the exact same as it was at the saw mill. 

“Oscar, yes, hello. We um, we did have some time to think…b’lieve we wanna give it a shot.” You felt your insides churning with nerves. But you’d never let Danny see it. 

“Excellent, excellent. Got an arrangement down in Kirksville day after, think you might want to get on the bill?” You realized he was probably speaking in rounds to keep suspicion from anyone around him, or anyone listening…

“Kirksville, only about three hours away.” You glanced to Danny as he nodded his head up and down so quickly you thought he was going to break his neck. 

“Yeah, yeah, we can be there. Just give us details.”

“Wonderful, eh? I’ll get yeh a room at the Cosby Motel, my treat seein’ as how you’re my newest friends. Check in under my name by 4 o’clock. Once’t you get there, I’ll have further instruction.”

“Okay…Cosby Motel 4 o’clock…” you gestured for Danny to write it down. “Anything else we need to do?”

“Just start hydration’ now. Fuel yourselves up. And don’t be out back fightin’ each other, now, yeh hear? Don’t need you busted up and ugly for your debut.”

“Yes, got it got it.” 

Debut?

“Okay, see you then. Oh, and Jacob?”

“Yes sir?”

“Heard about the action last night. Sorry to hear about that. Hope yeh know I’m here to help combat that sick son of a bitch ruinin’ lives, you understand me, son?” Oscar’s voice got quiet, an almost whisper. “That’s one thing I do not and will not tolerate, someone ruinin’ lives just for the sake of ruinin’…”

“Ah, right. We aren’t happy about it either. Could have ended up worse. ‘Least no one was hurt. Then I’d be the one burnin’ shit down.”

“That’s right, kid.” You listened as Oscar erupted into a deep, hearty laugh that lasted all of ten seconds before he finally calmed down. “See you boys soon.” 

With that, you heard the click of the phone hanging up on the other end, before pulling yours down to the receiver with a clack. Danny’s excited energy was radiating from him. 

“Kirksville?”

“Kirksville.”

——

The loud whining sound of the air impact drill echoed through the bay as you attempted to get a tire off an old Mustang, your mind clouded with thoughts about the fight. Like clockwork, Danny must have felt your anxiety, as he came barreling over to your side of the shop, two beers in hand. 

“How the fuck we gonna break it to Y/N that she has to come along with us?” He wasted no time in asking as he cracked them both open, handing one to you. 

You let the impact drop to the ground, having been wondering the same exact thing, on top of the million other worries rolling through your mind. 

You shrugged, taking a long drink. “Just gonna tell her, I guess.”

“You think it’ll be that easy?” he huffed, “Not sure if you’ve noticed, Jake, but she’s a bit of a fire plug. What she says goes, if you know what I’m sayin’...” Danny side-elbowed you as he made the insinuation. 

You pushed the visual of her being in charge at all in the bedroom far from your mind, letting logistics take over. 

“I don’t need to hear ‘bout that, Daniel. Look, she already knows she has to basically be a stowaway here, anyway…shouldn’t be that hard to tell her she’s still safer with us even if we’re not here. This place ain’t a fortress, we learned that last night.”

You made a good point, knowing that if she stayed here alone, they could just as easily catch this place on fire, too. “Last thing we need is to get a phone call that this place is on fire, and she’s missin’.” 

Your stomach turned over at the thought of her being three hours away from you, here…all alone, without your protection. But why did you care? You don’t care…she’s just passing through…

“Yeah, but we can’t ask Oscar to accommodate her, too. We don’t have the money for an extra room, Jake.” Danny argued. 

“But she does. Fuck, if she wants to get her own room, so be it. But somethin’ tells me she’ll be shackin’ up with you that night, anyway, hm?” You gripped the wheel of the tire, ripping it from its hold to begin taking the brake pads off. 

Danny breathed hard through his nostrils. “What about this place, huh? Losin’ two days’ work, we can’t afford that…”

“Been thinkin’ that, too. Let’s see how this goes, if we wanna stick with it, then if not maybe we can find some help. Geraldine told me there’s a drifter in town lookin’ for mechanic work. She didn’t tell him about us right off the bat ‘cause she knew we couldn’t afford him. Maybe after this, we could.”

You watched as Danny’s gears began turning, his fingers working over his peach fuzz as he thought about everything. “Alright, yeah. Alright.” His fingers padded against the hood of the Mustang before he resumed what he was doing across the bay. 

You both worked silently for a bit longer before Y/N emerged from her morning bathroom routine, hand-drying her hair with a towel. She sat down in a lawn chair, flipping open a newspaper and kicking back. You eyed Danny, silently saying now or never before you both made your way to join her. 

“Oh shit, what’s wrong?” She asked suspiciously. 

“Nothin’, nothin’…we just wanted to tell you we called Oscar earlier, and gave him our word we’re goin’ ahead with a fight…” Danny explained. 

You watched as she bit her lips in before folding the newspaper on her lap. “Great. And?”

“And…you gotta come with us, Y/N…s’in Kirksville day after tomorrow.” 

She nodded. “Figured as much. On my way to start my new life and get sucked in to this fuckin’ mess…” 

Whoa, you didn’t expect her to be this upset.

“Y/N, we didn’t ask for this either, it’s been a fuckin’ whirlwind and you just got here four days ago…” you interrupted. “This is somethin’ we have to fuckin’ do, okay? We’re not exactly out here living like royalty…”

“Can’t I just stay here? Bubba can come check on the place…” 

“Y/N! They set a goddamned fire last night! To our property! They’re threatening us, don’t you get it?! This isn’t just some fun little side-gig, this is real fuckin’ money that we need, okay? If we don’t do this, we could end up losin’ a hell of a lot more than a storage shed and some spare motorcycles…” Danny raised his voice. 

You watched as she closed her eyes, understanding the weight of what Danny said. And he was right. 

“And I guess you forgot, but they have their eye on you too, Y/N…I’ll be damned if I leave you here alone…” Danny ordered. You could see the worry in his eyes. 

“Yeah, and you don’t wanna be away from us for two days, do you?” You winked at her, gently punching her shoulder to lighten the mood. 

She grinned a little, raising her hands up. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry, you’re right. Just…a lot going on I didn’t expect to be a part of…”

“It’ll go by quick. We’ll be back before you know it, the parts will be here for your Scout, we’ll get it fixed, and you can be on your merry way to Atlanta.” You could hear the dismay in Danny’s voice at the thought of her leaving. “I'm sorry you had to be a part of all this.”

You glanced at Danny, running your hands across your coveralls. “Yeah, we’re sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s kinda funny, you showed up and our world kinda turned over on itself. Maybe you’re a good luck charm.” That one earned Danny a sweet smile from her, the glimmer in her eye making your heart rate spike. 

God, she’s…really pretty…

“I’m gonna go upstairs and reschedule our next two days’ appointments to next week. We’ll close up shop and leave Saturday mornin’.” You tried to pull yourself away from the situation, feeling that if you looked at her one more time, you would start feeling that strange feeling again down deep in the pit of your stomach. “Gonna pull some cash from the safe for gas to get us there and back.”

“Anything I can do to help?” She asked, throwing both of you off. 

“Uhh, no, I don’t think so…” Danny stopped in his tracks, spinning around in confusion. 

“Figured all I do is sit around all day, could make myself useful and clean up the shop or somethin’.” She offered, immediately walking over to grab a broom that had been leaning against the wall for probably the last six months. 

You shrugged to Danny. “Feel free, babe.” The word naturally slipped from your mouth before you could even catch it, but Danny didn’t even seem to notice. She gave you a sly smile over her shoulder as she began sweeping. Fuck, you haven’t called someone ‘babe’ in years…

“Just uh, just watch the grease and oil, it’ll stain your shoes…”

“Oh! I’ve got a pair of old boots in the Scout, I’ll be right back.” She walked to the wall and grabbed her keys off the hook. “Ya know, I can’t believe you guys are making such a drastic career change from mechanics to fighting and crackin’ heads….”

You huffed out a laugh. Ha! Crackin’ heads. 

If she only knew…

Wait. Stop. 

“Hey, what? What did you just say?” You felt like a million light bulbs went off in your mind, ringers and buzzers and flashing lights galore. 

She stopped in her tracks. “Uh, mechanics to cracking heads?”

Oh my god.

You ran to her, unable to stop yourself from grabbing her face in your dirty hands, planting a giant kiss right on her cheek. 

You pulled back, holding her surprised face in your hands. “I don’t hardly know you, but I think I love you.” Your words came out as loud, forced mumbles as you dropped her face and ran to Valor, ripping the old tarp off the top.

“Whoaaaa, you what now?!” Danny yelled. “Did you just say you—”

“Yeah, Danny. If I find what I think I’m gonna find, yes, I love your girlfriend. And fuck, I’ll tell her again, too…” you were simply about to burst with joy. Please…please let this be it… come on, Ace…

You popped the hood, immediately going to your rolling tool kit to pull it your way. You worked fast, faster than you’d ever worked before. It felt strange, working on Valor sober. You could see. You could feel…nothing clouded, nothing slipped and forgotten about…no bad memories being thought about through teary eyes…

You felt Danny and Y/N join you on either side as you kept working, clawing away at exactly what you were looking for. 

“Daniel, bring me the light…”

He jumped up, switching the hanging light on before bringing it to you. 

“I’ll be damned…” you mumbled. “I’ll be damned!”

You jumped from under the hood, grabbing Y/N with force again as you shook her shoulders. 

“What? What, Jake?” She chided, concerned about your sudden excitement. “What the fuck is going on?!” 

You felt yourself smile, positively beaming at her. It hurt your face muscles to smile that hard. And you weren’t sure you’d smiled that hard in years. 

“She just told me what’s wrong with Valor.”

—

“A cracked head?! Are you fuckin’ serious?!” Danny leaned down into the belly, readjusting the light to see better. 

“I swear to god, man…look…”

“Son of a bitch…that is it, baby!” You could tell Danny was overcome with excitement too, as he picked up Y/N around the waist, lifting her into the air and twirling her around, having no regard for how dirty he got her. 

She squealed as he spun her. “Put me down! Put me down!” She laughed. “And explain to me just what the hell I said?!”

He set her back down on the floor, and she walked closer to lean inside. 

“Look…” you paused. “Right here… The wall between cylinders 2 and 4 have a crack between ‘em. Compression has been bouncing back and forth between the cylinders making it run like shit. I tried everything, so did Ace…Could never figure it out. Checked timing, checked fuel pressure. Fuck I even checked the compression… it wasn't horrible but it wasn't great… fuck how did I miss this!?” You explained, knowing she probably didn’t understand, but she was trying. 

“So just now, you said crackin’ heads and…it clicked. I pulled the head of the motor and finally found the crack in the cylinder…right there, see? It’s tiny, but it’s there. Normal compression runs like, 130 and I was only gettin’ 60 psi. Fuck. I shoulda checked that years ago…”

“I have no idea what you just said but I believe you.” She laughed. “So, what now? You can fix it? We can take it to the fight?”

“Nope. It’s fucked.” You said, crossing your arms. “It’ll need a whole new motor…” 

“Wait man, why don’t we just pull a motor from a scrapper? Won’t take us a day…” Danny suggested, motioning out to the lot of cars.

You nodded as you peered back down inside. Something so damn small…over seven years of searching…

“Yeah…yeah let’s fuckin’ do it…” 

Y/N didn’t know it, but you wanted to kiss her cheek again. Hug her, even. Worship her big beautiful brain. You were elated…filled with so much relief. Yet again, because of her.

“Seven fuckin’ years, Ace…”

——

HER POV

You can almost feel the energy radiating off of Jake as he zips around the shop, collecting parts and talking himself through a mental checklist. His boots are heavy against the concrete floors as he walks back and forth grabbing tools and depositing them on the ground in front of the car. You stood nervously watching as Daniel joined him, putting on a pair of coveralls, and zipping them up to his neck. 

“Gonna go grab an engine stand, need anything else from the back?” he shouts towards Jake, who is digging through his tool box. 

“Yeah, grab some engine flush, and a bottle of coolant if you can.” he replies, letting his eyes catch sight of you before offering you a sly grin. 

How did your silly little comment tip him off? 

You hear the wheels of the engine stand rolling its way through the garage, then you see Danny walking up with the bottles in his arms and one hand steering the large metal frame. He parks it next to Valor and sets the bottles down, before leaning into the side of the car. “I’m thinkin’ we pull it from that old Biscayne.”

“Shit, either that or– Isn’t there an Impala out there?” Jake counters, standing up and wiping his hands across his coveralls. 

“Yeah, the Impala had that timing issue, remember?” 

“Oh fuck, yeah you’re right. Yeah, the Biscayne has the same block, let’s see if we can pull it. I grabbed the spanners and the breaker bar, just gotta grab my socket set.” he ponders, looking around the messy state of his tool box. 

The two begin to make their way out towards the gravel lot, rolling the engine stand in front of them as Jake carries all the needed tools. As their feet hit the rocks, Jake turned around motioning for you to join them with a smile, “Let’s go miss brain, we need your help.”

—

You stood back watching as they finally broke the motor free from the long abandoned Biscayne, attaching the hook to the chain wrapped around it, and praying the engine stand would bear the weight. Jake crawled out from underneath the old car, covered in dirt and dust, but with a smile on his face nonetheless. “Alright, jack ‘er up.” he said, dusting off his pants. 

Daniel spun the arm, and slowly but surely the engine rose out of the car. Jake used all of his strength to roll the stand away from the car as the engine gained enough height to make the clearance, but the gravel was making the job a bit more difficult than it needed to be. Daniel stepped in and with both of their muscles behind it, the wheels began to spin and the engine began its journey to its new home.

By the time the stand made its way to Valor, Jake and Danny were both winded and sweating, taking a second to catch their breath before repeating the exact same process with the motor still resting inside of Valor.

“Fuck, you ready to do that again?” Danny joked, earning him a laugh from Jake. A sweet sound you hadn’t heard too much of before. You noticed a dimple appear in his cheek, as he turned to look at you, and the glimmer of happiness in his eyes was magnetic.

He looked back to Daniel, who was cranking the arm of the engine stand, guiding the motor to the floor before unhooking the hook from the chains. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

—

Much of the day had been spent pulling the engines from the two vehicles, a few regular customers stopping in for quick oil changes or something of the like. You made yourself busy around the shop, tidying small messes here and there before finding your way into the house to see what you could do in there. You made the two a quick lunch, delivering it out to them as they held bewildered looks on their faces at the gesture. 

“What, you two never seen a sandwich before?” you laughed, handing them the paper plates.

They both shrugged and took the sandwiches, and they were gone before you could blink. You let your legs carry you back inside, cleaning up in the kitchen as the sounds from the garage echoed into the empty house. 

Hours passed as they worked steadily placing the motor into Valor. Jake underneath the car, while Danny worked from the top. You could hear the muffled chatter between them, and you were positive you’d never heard Jake talk more than he had in the past few hours. Danny seemed to enjoy it as the conversation flowed between the two of them endlessly, where previously it was a word or two every few hours. 

As the sun was long past set you slipped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away any worries plaguing your mind. You grabbed the soap from the ledge, twisting it between your hands to a lather, before washing yourself, and realizing that it must be Jake’s since it didn’t smell like Danny at all. Your eyes flashed around and saw the shower gel, lifting the lid and being hit with the scent of Danny. The two could not be more different from each other, you thought. Opposite in nearly everything except their loyalty to each other. 

You quickly washed your hair, and reveled in the comfort of the hot water before spinning the knob and reaching for a towel. You wrapped it around yourself, and rang out your hair before stepping out of the tub. You could hear talking in the kitchen as you opened the bathroom door, the steam spilling into the hallway as Danny popped his head around the corner. 

“Dinner break?” you asked, quietly padding into the kitchen. A smile spread across Danny’s lips and Jake stopped mid bite as he saw you. You blushed a little as you saw his eyes scanning over you, before quickly looking away. 

“Yep, got a little bit left to do, then I’ll be in, okay?” Danny said, placing his hand on your hip. 

You nodded your head and pulled your wet hair to the side before making your way back down the hallway and into Danny’s room. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you shut the door behind you, thinking of the way Jake studied your body. You realized he was probably a little taken aback, having never seen you, like that. You wish you knew what he was thinking. Was he thinking the same thing you were thinking? 

You pulled a t-shirt over your head, and slid on a pair of panties before climbing into Danny’s bed, a guilty feeling washing over you for even thinking of Jake like that. You grabbed your book from the floor and found your page, letting the words transport you to another place where things weren’t so uncertain.

You weren’t sure what time it was when the sound of the bedroom door shutting woke you from your sleep. Your eyes cracked open to see Daniel stepping towards his dresser, hair dripping with a towel around his waist. You swallowed harshly as you took in the sight of him, still glistening from the steam of the shower. He dropped his towel, putting on a pair of dark colored boxers, before running the towel through his long waves, drying it just enough to get into bed. He tossed the towel over the closet door and pulled back the sheets sliding in next to you as you put your book on the floor and turned off the lamp. 

“You showered?” you croaked out, a thin smile on your lips. 

He grabbed your hips and pulled you in to him, “Mhmm…started gettin’ used to doin’ that now that you’re here with me. Wanna smell good for you.” You felt his face nuzzle into your neck as his hand slid under your t-shirt, resting over your ribs. 

You twisted in his arms, soaking up his body heat. “Mm, well you do smell good. You guys get it finished?” you ask, voice still sleepy.

“Almost, still got a fair share to do. Think Jake’s still gonna work on it for a bit.” he answers, letting his eyes close. 

“Can’t believe my stupid joke helped figure it out.” you giggled. 

He pressed his lips to your forehead, “I know…Our little lucky charm, guess we gotta keep you around.” he hummed. 

“I don’t feel like I’m very lucky. Look at what’s happened since I showed up.” you countered with a laugh.

“I don’t know. I, for one, feel very, very lucky.” he says, letting his hand trail further up your shirt, his thumb dusting over your nipple as his lips trail down the side of your jaw. You arch your chest into his touch, giving him the go ahead to touch you again. He palms your chest as you feel his dick growing hard against your stomach. 

He pulls away from you just slightly, looking into your eyes before attaching his lips to yours. He rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. Your hands that previously rested on his bare chest, have now found new placement as you stroke him through his boxers. He whines into your mouth before pulling away from your lips dragging his teeth over your bottom lip.

“I wanna fuck you, baby. I swear I do. But I’m so fuckin’ tired.” he admits with pleading eyes. 

“I know. Just kiss me again.” you beg, and in seconds he complies, letting his hand slide down your torso, to cup your heat over your panties. His lips are soft and warm against yours and if you could live in this moment, surely you would. It’s you who pulls away though, brushing his damp hair out of his eyes as he savors the taste of you lingering on his lips. 

“It’s okay…Go to sleep, it’s been a long day.” you whisper, watching his eyes close in relief. 

“Hey…” he breathes. 

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for agreeing to come with us. I don’t think we could have left you behind even if we wanted to. I know I couldn’t.” He pulls you close to him, resting your head on his chest as he rubs circles into your shoulder. 

“I wanna take you on a date, soon. A real one. Once I win my fight and become a zillionaire…take you someplace special.” You felt the low vibration of Danny’s sleepy voice rumble in his chest as your head rested on his breastbone. “Show you that I’m not someone you have to run from…like that asshole ex of yours. Still good ones out here, Y/N. Wanna show you I’m one of them.”

His words made you melt into a puddle and want to cry at the same time. It wasn’t often, you’d found, that Danny let his tough-guy guard down, a trait you’d noticed he shared with his brother. 

You huffed a tiny giggle as you readjusted your head to press your lips to his bare chest, leaving tiny kisses from there and up to his throat. “Where you gonna take me?”

He then laid a sweet kiss to your forehead, a gesture of true care he hadn’t shown you yet, until now. It made your body flood with the sweet flow of  endorphins, and you were sure you might disintegrate into a million pieces if it weren’t for his arms wrapped tightly around you. 

“M’not sure yet. But I’ll think of something, if you say you want to go with me…”

“Of course I do, Danny. Wherever you want.” You answered honestly. You suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling of protection envelop you, like you could lie here in his comfort forever if it meant you never had to feel the pain of heartbreak ever again. 

You hardly knew this man at all, either one of them, for that matter. But effort was a two-way street, and though the situation was so intensely twisted into a predicament you didn’t expect to find yourself in, he had already shown you more effort than Peter ever had. Jake, too, if you were being honest. 

You breathed through a deep yawn, and it wasn’t  long until the two of you were slipping off into your dreams, tied up and fighting off each and every intrusive thought that passed through your mind as his hand gripped hard into your thigh. 

—

The metallic sound echoing through the walls woke you from your broken sleep. Your eyes flick to the clock hanging on the wall reading 6:08. God, was he already out there?

You slowly slipped from the warmth of the sheets, doing your best not to wake Danny who was completely passed out next to you. You pulled on a pair of Danny’s boxers from his pile of clean laundry, and silently made your way out into the hallway. After a quick stop in the bathroom to pee and brush your teeth you found yourself wandering out to the garage. You opened the shop door as quietly as possible, which wasn’t too quietly as it squeaked on the hinges. 

Jake rolled out from underneath the car, looking exhausted and filthy, but completely and utterly overjoyed. He sat up and looked in your direction, wiping his hands on the chest of his coveralls, before standing to meet you. 

“Jake…Have–Have you been out here all night?” you ask in shock. 

“Dunno. Guess so.” he smiled, placing a hand on his hip.

“Well is it almost done at least?” you ask. 

“Mm…No, not really. Still got more to do. Engine is in, just gotta flush it out, add new fluids, all that.” he says, reaching for his cigarettes in his chest pocket. Realizing the carton was empty, he mumbled under his breath and tossed the empty carton towards a trash can. 

“You have to sleep eventually, you know…” you said playfully.

“Who needs sleep when you’ve got nicotine?” he winks.

“Well, you, since your vices have run dry.” you banter back.

He smiles, and maybe for the first time ever you’re rewarded with the sight of every perfect white tooth in his head. “You think you’re funny, don’t you? Standing there condemnin’ me in Danny’s underwear…” he laughs, shaking his head.

“You wanna do me a favor?” he asks, his voice rich with persuasion.

“Maybe…” you answer, twisting your fingers together.

“Go in my room, in my dresser, top drawer on the left, grab me the pack that’s sittin’ there?” he asks, running his dirty fingers over his chin hairs. 

“Mmm, what’s in it for me?” you press.

“Well…” he pauses, leaning on the front of the car. “You don’t have to squeeze between Daniel and I for a three hour car ride, for one.”

“And who said I wouldn’t enjoy that?” you quip, walking off towards the door to retrieve his cigarettes. 

You quietly make your way back into the house, slipping into his room and breathing in the smell that was so perfectly him. You open the dresser drawer and see the pack of smokes sitting there next to his boxers, a small black notebook, and a familiar piece of folded paper. You grab the carton, and beneath it you find a pack of cinnamon gum with a few pieces missing. You swipe a stick and pop it in your mouth, letting the familiar, comforting flavor quell your morning hunger. 

You make your way back out into the garage, finding him leaning up against Valor with his ankles crossed and his arms crossed over his chest. He raises his eyebrows to you, flashing you yet another smile as you approach. You extend your hand out, offering him the carton of cigarettes as his eyes flick to your mouth. “You stealin’ from me, sweet thing?” he smirks, tapping the carton on the heel of his hand. 

“Borrowing…” you jest. “I’m out of my own cinnamon candies, didn’t think you’d mind, but if you want it back I’ll gladly give it to you.” you challenge, throwing him a raised eyebrow and a flirtatious smirk.

He sucks his teeth and shakes his head, mumbling something indiscernible under his breath, turning back towards Valor, stopping and doubling back as if he’d changed his mind and wanted to say whatever it was, but again he just smiled and shook his head.

“So you really think we’ll take her out to…Wherever we’re going? Kirksville?” you ask, shifting your weight on your hip, biting your bottom lip between your teeth.

He flicks his lighter on, holding the flame to the tip of the cigarette hanging from his lips, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke behind him. “Mmhm…God willing, baby.”

You could tell the pet name slipped from his lips before he could stop it, and you felt your insides melt as it swirled into your ears. He didn’t seem too mad about it, as he took another long drag from his cigarette, holding it between his tattooed fingers, flicking the ash to the ground. You could hardly peel your eyes away from him as you watched the way his lips wrapped around the smoke between his lips. You felt positively drawn to this enigma of a man, and in this exact moment you were pretty damn sure he was feeling it too. 

Baby…

Yeah, you could get used to that. 

—

DANNY POV

“Daniel, you’re pacin’. You never pace. You ain’t got somethin’ to fix over there?” Jake muttered as he balanced on one leg with his head in V’s belly. 

“Sorry, man.” Your nerves were shot. Normally you could handle things like this. You stayed cool, calm, and collected when it mattered, but your nerves about finally getting Valor running, your excitement about the fight, and the fact that you were developing a crush more serious than any other you’d had before, you felt like you were about to jump out of your skin. “You sure you don’t need any help?”

“No, I’m good. The hard part’s done…” he twisted a socket wrench a few times before giving you a side-eye. 

“Sorry. Just…antsy.” 

“Well go be antsy with that oil change on the Cadillac. You’re making me nervous.” You listened to him hiss a breath as you begrudgingly heeded his demand, flipping your baseball cap around backwards as you trudged back to your side of the bay. If he really fixes this car… mmm. You simply couldn’t wait to spin the tires hard on the pavement, leaving a black trail behind you as you kicked her sideways. Cars were something of a kink for you, the sound of engines revving and the feeling of the wheel in your hands was enough to get you going in more ways than one. And you weren’t too shy to admit it. 

You climbed back under the lift, and busied your mind with the oil change, watching as the thick brown liquid poured into the drain pan. You breathed a sigh, waiting for the tank to empty. You glanced over to the doorway and found Y/N leaned against the threshold, watching both of you intently. You motioned with your eyebrows for her to look to Jake, giving her a knowing smirk saying he’s almost got it. 

The last of the oil dripped down into the pan, and you set it on the floor below you. Just as you came back out from underneath the Caddy, Jake hopped off his step stool, taking a step back as he wiped his hands on his towel. 

You and Y/N made your way over, standing in the line of Valor as Jake bit his cheeks in. “Did you get it? Think she’s good?” You chirped. 

“I think…I think so…” he mumbled, pulling out his cigarettes and lighting one up. “You start her. I can’t do it.”

“Yeah you can, Jake. You have to, she’s your baby.” You argued, knowing that he should be the only one to do the honors. 

Jake took a quick deep breath. “Ace’s baby. My unwanted older sister that was always in trouble…” he joked as he slowly walked to the driver’s side door, flicking his still-burning cigarette to the floor as he stepped inside. 

You moved in closer to Y/N, letting your fingers flutter against hers as you both waited in anticipation. She gave you an excited smile, probably physically feeling the nerves rushing through your body. 

Jake’s movements were slow and calculated, cautious though he had literally turned the key in Val’s ignition a million times. He closed his eyes as she roared to life, the sound of the pistons firing loud, bouncing off the concrete walls. He peeked one eye open after she ran for ten seconds or so, of which you returned with a thumbs-up. So far, so good. 

Another ten seconds passed with the low purring sound sitting steady as ever. He had both eyes open now. He slowly brought both of his soiled hands to the wheel, gripping it tightly as you watched him swallow. The final test…

He moved his foot to the gas pedal, pressing gently at first, giving it just the tiniest bit of gas. When it held steady, he pressed harder, revving the engine to work a little bit harder. Still sounded smooth. His eyes finally met yours as he neared hitting the metal, a smile creeping to his face as the loud sound nearly deafened you. 

You couldn’t help it. The excitement was enough to make you physically jump for joy, so you did. Fist to the air, you jumped to the driver door as Jake let off the gas, listening to the engine calm back down to idle. 

“That’s fuckin’ right!” You yelped as Jake jumped from the seat, the same look of pure elation written all over him. “You did it!” He wrapped both arms around you, gripping you tightly as you jerked each other around with harsh pats to each others’ backs. 

When you finally released, you ran to Y/N, wrapping her in a giant celebratory embrace, too. “I’m so proud of you guys!” She squealed. 

You watched as Jake moved to face the front of the car, flipping the engine off with two middle fingers. “I figured you out, you beautiful ol’ bitch!” He slammed the hood closed, and leaned down on it. He took a few seconds, savoring the sound of the purring engine, a sound Ace had been trying to achieve for way, way too many years. 

Finally. 

He whipped his towel from his back pocket as he made his way back over to you and Y/N. 

“Fuel, air, and fire, baby. That’s all she needed.” He said, eyes flicking to Y/N’s then to yours as he clamped an appreciative hand to Y/N’s shoulder; you both knew if it weren’t for her, he probably would have never made the realization. Or in his case, realizations. “Let’s celebrate.”

The three of you made your way to the liquor cabinet to find the appropriate libation to mark the day. You left Valor running, and you were positive that if Jake could have his way, he’d let the sound of the engine be his lullaby as he drifted off tonight. 

—

“Got everything ya need?” You asked Y/N as she trudged back from her Scout, kicking up dust as her boots carried her toward Valor. The late spring air was blowing a sweet-smelling morning breeze, and you felt like there was a change in the atmosphere. Positivity was springing from your every limb and extremity, and though deep down you were nervous as all get out, your confidence in yourself trumped it tenfold. 

“Think so…” her tone indifferent as she pulled the leather backpack from her shoulder and tossed it into the backseat before climbing in. You let yourself adore her tight-fitting cutoff Levi’s, paired with a raglan shirt. She made herself comfortable as she began digging through her bag, pulling out a pair of aviator sunglasses and placing them across her face. She’s so fuckin’ cute…again, how the hell did you manage to bag this one?

You moved to the shotgun seat and Jake wasn’t far behind, throwing his own bag and small cooler on the floorboard. “Jake, you agree…the best thing to come outta the 70’s was chicks deciding against wearing bras at all, yeah?” You grabbed the top of the door frame of your rolled-down window, turning to give Y/N a playful smirk. 

Jake laughed along and he turned the key over, hearing Valor purr to life again with a few revs of the engine. He nodded, “Yes, siree, Debbie Harry knew what she was doing. I think we should burn them all.”

You watched as Y/N embarrassingly crossed her arms over her braless chest, sending you a snarl of her nose as you threw your hand back over the seat to grab hers. “M’just teasin’, baby. You’re gorgeous all the time in whatever you’ve got on.” You reassured her. 

Jake backed the car from the lot and onto the hardtop, ready as ever to take V on her maiden voyage with her brand new engine. “Alright, you mean old thing, let’s see if you still got it…”

You gripped the frame again, bracing yourself for what you knew Jake was about to do. He gripped the gearshift, shifting it quickly as he hit the clutch, sending Valor flying forward quickly already, and she was only in first gear. When the engine idled out, he shifted again, picking up speed as he raced to the bottom of the hill. You felt your stomach turn over with excitement, your jaw clenched together as you felt the rumble and vibrations in the seat below you. 

“Ahhh! Jake slow the fuck down!” Y/N yelled from the back seat, but he didn’t listen. He shifted again, forcing your back into the leather seat as he took off again at top speed before shifting down to a reasonable speed to make the curve at the bottom of the hill. 

“Did you just accelerate down a hill you fucking wild ass?!” Y/N leaned her head forward between you as she hit Jake across the shoulder. 

He was smiling ear to ear, that familiar smile you’d seen him sport fairly often these past few days. “Son of a bitch she’s still fuckin’ got it!” 

You could feel the excitement radiating from the both of you, from Valor herself, and from the watchful eye of Ace, wherever in the universe he had ended up. Keep looking after us, Ace. We’re making progress…

After a few quiet minutes on the freeway after you’d marked your route on the fold-out map, Y/N spoke up from the back seat. “So since you both felt the need to comment on my lack of undergarments, tell me. Danny, are you an ass man, or a boob man?”

Your jaw fell slightly open as she posed the question, making you feel a tad intimidated. You sucked your teeth as you lowered your sunglasses to look at her. “You sure you don’t already know the answer to that?”

She met you with her chin in the air, arms still crossed. “I sure don’t, enlighten me.”

You turned back around to face front, letting out a huff. “Consider myself a boob man, I think. Chest, shoulders, all of that region, just…” you circled your hands over the entire area you spoke of on yourself. “It’s my favorite to look at.”

“Mhm. And Jake, what about you?” She asked him, making him readjust himself in his seat as he let his cigarette burn down to nothing. 

He blew out the remainder of his last inhale, the wind whipping through the rolled-down windows filling the cab with the smell of his Lucky Strikes.

“Ass man. Definitely.”

“Really?” You asked him. “Never would have guessed that.” 

“Ass man, hmm?” She pestered. 

“Mhmm. Ass, thighs, hips… all shapes and sizes. Never encountered one I didn’t want to meet…” he chucked his cigarette out the window as you glanced back to Y/N, the look on her face full of some type of surprise. “I read once that women store stress in their hips, and I dunno how true that is, but I like to think I’m pretty good at helping to relieve it.”

Damnit Jake, stop with your fuckin’ smooth dirty talk…gonna get my girl all worked up in the backseat…

“Is that right?” She muttered. “What, with like a hands-on deep-tissue massage?” she taunted.

“Mm, you could call it that, I guess.” He laughed as he glanced at you. “Just take out the tissue part, and replace hands with—”

“Alright, Jake we get it, fuck.” You interrupted him. 

He let out a boisterous laugh, this side of him and his sense of humor becoming familiar to you again. You hadn’t seen this Jake in years. You watched as she sucked her tongue over her teeth, crossing one leg over the other as she cleared her throat. “Alright. Noted, I guess. Anyway, here.”

She was handing you an 8-track over the seat. “Springsteen?” You asked questioningly as you slipped it inside the player. 

“Ah, fuck. Not that guy…really, Y/N? I thought you liked the good shit…” Jake teased as he rolled his window up a little bit. 

“He just put this out a few months ago, and he’s a hell of a musician, Jake, for your information. Just listen to this…” 

You pushed play, turning the knob up a bit as the heavy harmonica sound and light acoustic poured from the speakers. Everyone in the car went silent as the lyrics began, even you feeling a sudden solemn and reflective feeling. You could picture you and Jake recreating this exact song…harmonica and guitar…that’s all it was…

The sweet song came to a close, and you watched as Jake swallowed his words. “Alright, that wasn’t bad, I guess. What’s the album called?”

“Nebraska.” She answered stoically. “I’ve played it nonstop since I walked in on Peter—”

You took a quick look behind you again, watching her move closer to the small window, placing her chin in her hand as she stared at the passing scenery. 

You finished out the album without another word passing through anyone’s lips the entire time, except for Jake at the very end as the tape clicked off. 

“Flip it, and play it again.”

—

The Cosby Hotel was definitely a step up from the motel back home…two stories with an actual parking lot, a fresh coat of paint, and every light surrounding the vacancy neon in working condition. The check-in lobby looked clean and well-kept, green turf carpet lining the walkway where the sidewalk ended and luggage carts parked outside. 

“Well, at least it doesn’t look like serial killers live here.” Jake said as he pulled the car into the parking lot. The both of you stepped out and made your way to the entrance, keeping an eye on the sleeping Y/N parked right outside. 

“Hello, room under Oscar, please?” Jake said quietly to the man working the front desk. He was about your age, chipper and happy and welcoming as he looked up the reservation. 

“Yes sir, one second.” The man disappeared to the back before returning promptly with two keys on a ring and an envelope. “Room twenty-six. Hope you have a wonderful stay, let us know if there’s anything you need. Oh, spare sheets and pillows are in the closet for the pull-out bed.”

“Thank you, have a good night.” You responded with a wave as you and Jake turned to leave, both of you eyeballing the envelope in Jake’s hand. 

“What is that?” You asked as you quietly got back into the car. 

“Not sure…” he unfolded the flap to find a handwritten note inside. It was the seven digits of a phone number. 

Call me.

-Oz

You both gave each other a look as he backed out to pull around to the side lot, choosing a spot right in front of your room. You turned around to find Y/N curled up in the backseat still sound asleep. You stepped out and pulled the seat forward, nudging her a little to wake her. 

“Hey, sleepyhead, we’re here.” She peeped her eyes open as she got her surroundings, stretching a little as she sat up. 

“Shit, when did I fall asleep?” She asked through a groggy voice. 

“Oh, about halfway through the third play of Nebraska.” You laughed. “Come on, we gotta get going.”

The three of you made your way toward the room, letting Jake open the door to find a large room equipped with a queen-sized bed, plush couch, large TV and separate bathroom. “Shit, it even has a mini-fridge!” Jake exclaimed as he threw his bag onto the couch to go over and inspect it. 

You chuckled as you flipped on the lights, finding the decor to be a bit posh, and you knew immediately this place would have been way out of your price range had you gotten it yourselves. It even smelled nice. You felt Y/N press against your back as she slipped inside behind you, darting to the bathroom first thing. 

“Sorry boys, gotta go!” She pranced off to the bathroom while Jake ripped the envelope from his back pocket, motioning for you to join him at the phone. 

“He’ll recognize your voice.” You said. “You go ahead.” 

Jake picked up the old beige phone, dialing out Oz’s number. He pulled it away a bit so you could lean in, listening as well. After a few rings, the other end picked up. 

“This Oz.”

“Oz.  It’s Jacob. Just wanted to let you know we just got into the room.”

“Jake! Hello, boy. Good ta hear you made it safely?”

“We did, and thank you for the room…it’s, it’s real nice.”

“Not a problem, not a problem. Listen, I’m gonna give you some specific instructions, you ready?”

“Yes sir, ready…”

“Go eat dinner now. Diner down the road if you head East about a mile n’ a half. Lots of protein and starches, you hear? Fill yourselves up. And drink water only. Take a rest. You’re to drive to the very end of Halstead Street and park at the abandoned white building. Walk around the back and down the hill there ‘til you meet the old factory. The basement door ain’t hard to find. That’s where the matches will be tonight. Knock three times on the door, tell them you’re with Oz. 11 o’clock sharp, got it? Comfortable clothing, no jewelry. You’ll be barefoot. And you boys both got that long hippie hair, don’tcha? Tie it back.”

“Halstead Street, white building, find the factory basement. 11:00. Got it.” Jake relayed back to him, looking to you for a nod of confirmation. 

“That’s it, boy. And listen, attitude is half the fight, you hear? Come in like you’ve done this a hundred times before. Don’t wanna see you wide eyed-and bushy tailed and embarrassin’ me, you got it? There is some money to be made here, tonight, boys.” Oz spat, followed by his extremely long guttural laugh. 

You grinned hard as you covered your mouth and fought to laugh along with him. “Yes sir, got it.”

“Go eat. I’ll see yeh there.” And without a goodbye, Oz clicked the phone. 

Jake breathed a sigh as he hung up the phone, giving you an exasperated look of panic mixed with excitement. Just then Y/N emerged from the bathroom with her hands on her hips. “You guys hungry?”

—

After an early dinner that followed Oz’s specific instructions, and a few hours’ rest back in the hotel, darkness started to fall as the time grew closer and closer to 11:00. 

After a few episodes of Hee Haw, Jake shot up from his place on the couch, jumping up and down and rolling his neck. 

“I dunno man, should we stretch? Go for a warm-up run? I’ve never done it like this before. What do we do?” His words fell without punctuation, and you could tell the nerves were creeping up to him just the same as they were you. But you held steady in your cool exterior. 

You heard Y/N laugh through her nose at him. “Chill out, Jake. It’s gonna be fine.” You tried to calm him. “I’ve never fought planned, either. We’re gonna have to pretend we’re doin’ this on a whim.”

You watched as he shook out his limbs and sat back down on the couch. “I don’t know why I’m nervous, man. I’m never nervous.” He put his face in his hands as he rubbed his eyes. 

“I’m nervous too. But it’s gonna fly by. Just pretend you’re fightin’ me.” You tried to reason, feeling the anxiousness literally radiating from him. Y/N slithered in behind him, looking at you as she began to knead her hands on his shoulders, trying to loosen up his nerves. He closed his eyes and took a second, recentering himself as she dug her thumbs into his neck. 

“We ain’t even there yet, and I’m actin’ a damn fool.” Jake mumbled. 

Y/N glanced at you again with sympathetic pity in her eyes. “No you’re not. I’m ready to see my dinner again, if I’m bein’ honest.” You laughed, the nerves making your stomach turn. “Y/N, you’re comin’ to watch… right?”

You watched as her hands slowed on Jake’s shoulders. “Yeah, I am. I mean, if you want me to, at least—“

“We want you to.” Jake interrupted. “Be good to have a friend in the crowd, eh Danny?” He gave you a tiny wink. 

Jake patted his hand against Y/N’s in silent appreciation for the massage, standing slowly and reaching into his back pocket. “Oz didn’t say shit about no smokin’, though, did he?”

—

10:50pm.

The air had gotten cooler as the night fell, and before you knew it the three of you were parking Valor in the lot of the old white building… the tall, abandoned factory looming directly behind it. There were a few other sporadic cars parked here and there, but not enough that made you think this was going to be some big event. Thank god. You squeezed your fists together and popped your fingers and wrists, rolling them around as the nerves turned into excitement. 

You caught up with Y/N after locking up the doors of Valor, Jake not being reluctant at all in his decision to let you drive. 

You slipped her hand into yours, the heat of her palm immediately making you feel a hundred times better. It was a strange thought, and it was so new that you hardly believed it, but her touch felt more like home than any place you had ever inhabited. No home with a cozy fireplace, no seat of the fastest motorcycle you owned, not even the arms of all the women you thought you loved felt better than just the touch of her hand. 

You looked down to her to find her hair wisping around in the breeze as the three of you hurriedly walked toward the back of the building, her sly but reassuring smile making you swoon. It was silent, no noise, music, distant conversation…it hit you then how underground this really was. It had to be, with all of the money involved, right?

The smoke from Jake’s cigarette floated back and hit you in the face, and you breathed it in deeply. The smell grounded you, the familiarity bringing you back down to earth. He’s here with you, you’re here with him. Everything is going to be fine. 

“You got your piece?” You asked him, watching as the cherry of his cigarette burned a bright orange as you walked. 

“Mhmm.” He patted the back of his old blue jacket, his safety-blanket of a clothing item that was ridden with cigarette burns and dirt, the grease stains still present from when it belonged to Ace. You weren’t sure Jake had ever washed it. 

Of course you brought a weapon. A new town, unknown people…hell, you’d only met Oscar once, and you didn’t even get to have a conversation with him. Of course you brought a weapon…

10:54pm.

You neared the back of the building and spotted what had to be the basement doors, and you felt Y/N squeeze your hand as you got closer and closer. 

Before you knew it, the old, heavy metal doors were in front of you, and you heard the very faint sound of men talking inside. “Here goes fuckin’ nothin…” Jake said, banging his fist hard three times on the door. He stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets as the three of you waited for an answer. 

Within seconds, the door pushed slightly open to reveal a giant man, husky and looming as he eyed you. 

“Y’all Oz new recruits?” He asked, the only visible part of him was his gangly hand holding the door open. 

“Yep, that’s us.” You said matter-of-factly, watching as he peeked out enough to see Y/N cowering a bit behind you. 

“You bring a cheerleader?” He quipped. 

“Yeah, she goes where we go.” You said with as much candid confidence as you could. 

“C’mon. Oz’s room this way.” He motioned you inside through the dark hallway, the only light in each room you passed a singular light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Random men crowded the hallways, and you instinctively walked ahead of Jake, pushing Y/N behind you as Jake fell in behind, sandwiching her between you. 

You followed him around corners and crowded rooms full of old machinery and dusty equipment, nodding to each shady man you passed as you creeped through. The air was dense, and you could smell the remnants of some type of oil that was probably used to grease all the moving parts of whatever machinery this was. 

11:00pm.

Finally you were ushered into a better-lit room, pushing through a few more guys as you walked further inside, finding Oscar seated at a desk he had commandeered. His feet were propped up as he reclined in an old metal desk chair, his fedora hat tipped backwards as he puffed on a cigar. 

When he saw you, he perked up, interrupting the conversation he was having with a few other men when he recognized you. “Hey, my new favorite fellas!” He stood from the chair, quickly making his way to stand in front of you. “Right on time, boys. Right on time.” He shook each of your hands as he said hello, inviting you further into the room to sit. It didn’t take him long, though, to notice there weren’t just two of you. 

“Ah, and who do we have here?” He asked, holding his hand out to Y/N. 

“My name is Y/N, pleasure to meet you Mr. Oz.” She spoke sweetly, her voice laced with honey. The concern on his face switched quickly to a genuine smile as she shook his hand. 

“My, my…it ain’t often we get a pretty face to bless our presence at these things, eh boys! And a firm handshake, I respect that, ma’am. Nice to meet you, likewise…likewise…” Oz laughed hard again. “You positive you wouldn’t like someone to escort you to another place where you don’t gotta be seein’ these two get riled up?” He asked her. 

She pondered for a second, glancing to each face in the room before she spoke. “No, sir, I appreciate that, though. Believe I want to be here from start to finish with them, if at all possible. Doesn’t bother me to see a little blood.”

You thought you were going to have to convince him to let her be around, but it looked like she was doing it herself. 

Oz’s eyes widened at her confidence, and he tilted his head back in his infamous cackle again. He brought her hand up to lay a quick kiss to her knuckles, only breaking away to continue his hearty chuckle. “What the lady says, goes, fellas? You hear me?” He grinned ear to ear as he looked to his confidants lining the walls of the room, earning him nods of obedience his way. “Someone get her some champagne…” he snapped his fingers in the air as one man escaped through the door, apparently going to fetch her a drink. 

You looked quickly to Y/N, in complete and utter disbelief that she had won over Oscar in under a minute. And you thought that was going to be a struggle…of course he already liked her…her bubbly personality had won over yet another man…her gorgeous looks were just the icing on the cake. 

Within seconds, a flute of champagne was placed in Y/N’s free hand, and you could see her hesitation to accept a drink from a stranger. Like clockwork, Oz stepped in. “Sweetheart, I notice your restraint in taking things from strangers, but I can assure yeh, though we may appear to be no-good wrongdoers who only go out at night, I run a professional outfit, though it may be underground. You can trust each and every man in this room, baby. You hear?” He shifted his gaze to you and Jake, biting the tip of his still-burning cigar between his teeth. “We ain’t here to fuck around, we’re here to make money. Win matches, and make money. You do good for me, I do good for you, ain’t that right fellas?” 

A collective “Uh huh, yes sir, sure is.” fell in mumbles from the men lining the walls as they all agreed. 

“And you’re in my house. My house, my rules. Simple as that. If the rules aren’t followed, the consequences follow, right boys?” Another collective sound of agreement. 

“So go ahead, sweetheart. Have the champagne. We’ll keep ya flute full all night, if that’s what you prefer.” Oz reassured her as he eyed her down. She pondered another minute, and you squeezed her hand still wrapped in yours. She shot back the champagne glass, finishing the drink off in a few short gulps, her eyes never leaving Oz’s. 

Oz clapped his hands together. “Alright, boys. Shall we gather at the ring? Time’s a wastin’, forty-five minutes till the bell.”

You let Oscar lead the way out of the crowded room, following in behind the hoard back out into the dark hallway. It hadn’t quite hit you yet that Y/N had just taken on the responsibility of an inkless contract, showing her trust in Oz at her own expense… not yours, not Jake’s. With the tip of her flute glass, she signed away your fate, putting her trust completely in the hands of Oz. She showed him that if in fact they had messed with her drink, they’d then have to feel the wrath of you and Jake, and that wasn’t something they wanted to do this early in the game. Not ever…and Oz knew that. He knew that the minute he watched you fight in the dirt during the poker game. 

The deal was sealed. There was no turning back, now. 

—

11:36pm.

The room suddenly filled with more bodies, the same type of shady characters that lined the hallways now began filing into the large middle room, also more well-lit, taking their places in rusty chairs and on dusty work benches left behind from the failed factory. 

Oz pulled you and Jake to the side as he began wrapping your hands in white tape. “Listen here. Gonna be 5 bouts t’night. Two before y’all. One afta. Daniel, you’re up first, Jacob, you’ll be directly after. Now I don’t know these boys, we call this an amateur fight, few other of my constituents who run these kinna’ contests bring about new guys just like you, see what you’ve got. This ain’t the big leagues, yet boys. You hear? Trial runs, trial runs…” you both nodded as you listened to him, trying your best to keep eye contact as your feet stepped side to side below you.

“Look at me, boys.” He said lowly as he finished up the last wrap of your hand. “They’s $200 a piece in y’all pockets tonight whether you win or lose…guaranteed. If you win, an extra $300 goes on top. Lose, $200. Win, $500. Ya got it?” You both nodded hard to show you understood. 

He placed one hand on either of your cheeks as he brought you in, looking you both in the eyes. “I see somethin’ in you boys, both of yeh. I know you ain’t gonna disappoint me, you wouldn’t disappoint me, would yeh?” You both shook your heads, halfway terrified to disagree with him. 

“I know y’all got yourselves in some heavy debt  from that dirty son of a bitch Teddy. I wanna help, I’m here to help.” You both nodded, murmuring sweet appreciation to Teddy as he stepped backwards. “Help me help you, boys!!” He pointed both fingers your way. 

12:00am.

A man dressed in a leisure suit walked by you, the same man who brought Y/N her champagne from earlier, and dutifully refilled her glass she held onto so tightly now. She gave him a nod of thanks as he scurried away to the next task. Oz sure ran a tight ship. 

The three of you stood ringside as you watched the first bout of the night, a whirlwind of swings and steps and kicks, growls of menace and disapproval from the men who placed their bets from the sidelines. You felt wide-eyed as you watched them brawl under the dull lights strung above them, eyes already swelling as they both became panting, sweaty messes of exhaustion. 

You glanced to Jake, standing still with one arm crossed against his bare chest while the other hand spun at his mustache. You knew he was still nervous. “Jake, you alright over there?” You mumbled watching his eyes flash around. 

His jaw clenched as he nodded. “Yep. ‘M fine.” But you knew he wasn’t. 

You wrapped your arm around Y/N shoulders, pulling her in a little as you all continue watching from the shadows. “Oz will be in our corners, givin’ us all the advice we’ll need…it’ll be alright. This will be nothin’. We got this in the fuckin’ bag.” You we’re trying to convince yourself as much as you were trying to convince him. 

The referee held one man’s hand high in the air as he stumbled around, blood pouring from his nose while the other man lay writhing on the floor beside him. “Winner!” The ref yelled, and a few men along the sidelines cheered. 

You swallowed hard as the two men were escorted off the raised mat, ready to be tended to by whoever would help. The mat was cleaned and dried, ready for the next round. And then you were next. 

“Daniel!” You heard Oscar call from a few yards away. He motioned with his hand 3 minutes, then pointed to the ground next to him. You nodded that you understood. You felt your heart rate rise and your face get hot as you began trying to psych yourself up, bouncing on your feet to get the blood flow going. You pulled your hair back again and re-tied it tightly, wanting to keep it from falling in your face for as long as possible. 

Three minutes. 

While you watched Jake busy getting in his own head as he paced around, you took a second to talk to Y/N, the look on her face an expression you hadn’t seen in her yet, except maybe the night of the fire. 

You turned her toward you, leaning down and grabbing both her hands in yours, wrapped up and mummy-like in your tight white wraps. “Listen to me, I don’t want you to worry, okay? This is going to be shit to watch. Just try to tune it all out, walk away if you have to…same during Jake’s fight. We’re not forcing you to watch anything you don’t want to.” She nodded again, and you grabbed her face, putting another sweet kiss to her forehead. 

God, what is this woman doing to you?

“You’re gonna be fine…you’re gonna be fine, Danny. Both of you.” Her hands found your wrists as you squeezed her cheeks, your breathing picking up as the time dwindled. 

“Tell me, Y/N…tell me you’re my girl. I need to hear it…” you spat out, without even thinking it through. Her look turned to confusion, she was unsure what exactly you were asking. Hell, so were you. 

“I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend, Y/N, just…tell me you feel this too…whatever it is…” you breathed again, motioning to the air between you. “I haven’t felt like this ever before, Y/N, a-and, it feels good, okay? It feels so good…I…I really like you. A lot. Just tell me you feel it. That’s all I wanna hear. That I’m not crazy…”

You were cut off by her lips crashing to yours, heated and sweet as they cut your rambling sentence in half. You could have cried, her gesture telling you all you needed to know before she pulled away, taking your face in her hands now, bringing her lips close to your ear. “I feel it too, Danny…” she whispered before lowering herself off her tip-toes. 

“But you are a little crazy, look what you’re about to go do…” she winked one eye closed, gushing a little as you both laughed at the situation. You brought her in again, breathing in the smell of her hair. 

“Shame we’re sharing a hotel room tonight…really wanna fuck you again…” you felt the smattering of her hair against your lips as her body tensed in your embrace. 

“Yeah, been thinkin’ about that, too…” her face blushed as you stepped away, looking to Oscar. “Go kick ass, baby.”

JAKE POV

You walked up behind Danny, reaching up to place your hands on the back of his shoulders. “Yeah, go fuck him up, Daniel.” You said, squeezing his traps. 

You watched as he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Y/N’s cheek, and bounded away toward Oz. You huffed a sigh as you took your place next to her, steadying your feet as you prepared yourself to watch. 

“You guys seem awfully cozy. You in love or somethin’?” You asked, more teasing than really wanting to know. 

She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “Shut up, Jacob. No, we aren’t in love…”

“Mmm, he’s pretty taken with you. I can see it in his eyes. I would know…” you explained, truthfully. 

She didn’t have much to say, just stood awkwardly as she watched Oscar whisper hard into Danny’s ear. “I really like him, too, Jake.” She finally uttered. 

You nodded, your heart sinking a bit. “I know you do.” You heard the referee yell something as Danny and his opponent stepped into the ring. “You gonna break his heart?” 

That one earned you a quick snap of her head. You loved getting her worked up. “What? Why would I do that?”

“Because I see the way you look at me… I’m not stupid, Y/N.” 

Was it risky? Yes. But there was something about her that made you want to shout from the rooftops, all your insecurities finding you before they knocked down the walls you built. She was destroying them, and fast. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jake…” she scoffs.

“I’m not. And I know I’m not making it up, either.” 

Just then, the shrill sound of the bell went off, and the referee signaled for the fight to begin. Danny wasted no time in undermining his opponent, a thinner guy about Danny’s height, with nowhere near the muscle or agility that Danny naturally had. 

He laid an immediate low blow to his ribs, the sound of his knuckles cracking radiating through the room. His opponent retaliated with a sharp hook to Danny’s eye, lowering him to a quick crouch before he stood again, returning with the same motion. They were wailing on one another, going blow for blow as they stumbled around the ring. 

Immediately you felt Y/N move closer to you, taking your hand in both of hers as she squeezed tightly. Her nerves had finally sunk in. Danny delivered a blow to the guy’s jaw, sending blood flowing into the air as he spun. Cheers erupted from half the crowd as they patted their hands on the mat. That last blow caused his opponent to fall to one knee, and Danny seized the opportunity. He tackled him to the floor and into a semi-headlock while the man rolled and tumbled. Danny wrapped his legs around him, effectively stopping his every movement while Danny continued lighter blows to the man’s face where he could. 

“Fuck, is he winning? Is he winning Jake?” She spouted, obviously feeling overwhelmed. 

You watched as the opponent’s eyes began to slowly flicker closed as Danny held him between all his limbs. 

“Yes Danny!” You screamed. “Hold him there! Hold him!!” 

You watched as Danny squeezed with all his might, his jaw clenched hard as his nose poured with blood. You could tell they were both exhausted. It was mere seconds before the man gently tapped on Danny’s arm around his neck, only seconds away from passing out. An immediate win. 

“Yes! Yes yes yes!” You jumped and spun in the air and Y/N crouched down in disbelief. Danny released the man and stood, helping his opponent shakily get to his feet. The referee held Danny’s arm into the air, his body already black and blue from the fight that barely lasted two minutes. 

“He won! He won, Y/N!!” You ran to her, lifting her into the air and kissing her cheek as you spun. For the tiniest split second, you felt her hair fall onto your face as you held her above you, watching as the elation grew on her face. Your faces were so close that you felt her breath, dripping with the essence of champagne, savoring the taste of it on your tongue before placing her back down on two feet. 

Oscar dashed to the middle of the ring and grabbed Danny up, walking him down the steps and to an old metal folding chair. The two of you rushed to him in a whirl of congratulations and quiet squeals of happiness. 

“Fuck yeah, Daniel!! Fuck yeah!” You shoved his shoulders back as he sat down in the chair, wincing a little already. He was breathing heavily as his hair fell out of the tight knot he had wrapped it in. He tried to smile through his already swelling lip and eye, a bit too dazed to comprehend what had just happened. You were all overjoyed. 

“Your turn now, brother.” 

And before you knew it, Oz was whisking you away to the mat.

DANNY POV

“You did it, baby! You did it!! I’m so proud of you!” Y/N was squatted down to be even with your face, pulling the strands of hair back as they stuck to your sweaty, bloody face. 

“I fuckin…did, didn’t I?” You breathed through labored breaths. One of Oscar’s men was immediately at your side with wet cloths and drinking water, dabbing away at your wounds while your eye began to steadily swell closed. Y/N’s hands felt like hot coals on your shoulder and knee, as you both had no choice but to watch Jake go through the exact same thing you just had. 

His opponent was a bit bigger, though. Had about a foot on him, and definitely more reach. You sucked in a quick breath of disappointment, knowing that he was going to have to fight for his life out there. You watched as they shook hands before the referee stepped between them. 

“Fuck, Danny. That guy’s huge…” Y/N mumbled. 

“No shit…he’s got it, though. He knows how to fight a guy that size, because he knows how to fight me. I taught him how to counteract someone with reach.” It hurt your lip to talk. 

The bell rang again and you watched as the man went right for Jake’s jaw, leaning forward with the strength of a thousand fists. You scrunch your face up, waiting for him to feel the blow. But he didn’t. He swerved. Ducking quickly to avoid the blow and instead stepping sideways so the other guy tripped over his feet a little. Jake took the opportunity, laying a quick left-right blow to his ribs, followed up by a kick to the back of his knee, making him stumble again. 

“YES Jake!” You yelled, getting to your feet. You could hear Oscar’s voice overtop of everyone else’s, the crowd quickly erupting into a deafening roar as Jake gained the upper hand off the bat. 

But you knew better. All that did was piss the other guy off. And you were right, when he found his footing again, it was a wild blur of long arms falling and delivering hit after hit to Jake’s face and torso. He tried defending himself, blocking the hits and backing away. 

“Don’t let him corner you! Push forward! Step into it!!” You yelled, hoping he heard you. Jake stepped forward and kicked him again, reaching an arm up to hit him directly in the ear, a guaranteed disorientment for his opponent. He already had red strawberries creeping up on his skin and tiny scratches all over his face and neck. 

The guy was good, no doubt, but he wasn’t as quick as Jake. You watched as he got out from underneath him, pacing away as he turned and readied himself. The fight lasted a while, and they continued well into the second round. You could tell he was tiring out, the look of exhaustion coming over him. 

“Is he okay, Danny? Can he finish this out?” Y/N was standing swaying side to side with her hands in a praying position in front of her face. 

“Yeah, yeah he can. He’s got it.” You responded, turning your attention back right at the second that Jake lurched into him, finding the last little bit of heart he could find to pound directly into the side of the opponent’s skull. He stumbled backward, falling directly on his behind with a thud, followed by leaning over onto his side and rolling to his stomach. 

The referee ran to him, laying down toward him while he wailed with his head in his hands. You watched as the man shook his head from side to side, letting him know that no, he wouldn’t carry on. 

You shot up from your chair, both fists held high as you screamed again, and the place erupted with roars of both defeat and success. The referee held Jake’s hand to the air, shouting “Winner!” over the loud booming crowd. 

“Yes!!! Yeahhhhh!” You bellowed, fighting through your own pain and ailments as Oscar walked him down the stairs to the chair beside you. “Fuck yes, brother!” You attacked him with a big embrace, nearly knocking his unsteady self over as he hugged you back. 

“Ah, the ribs, the ribs…” he muttered, his cheek gashed open with blood pouring. You and Oscar made sure he sat down and had plenty of water to rinse and spit the blood from his mouth. 

“Goddamnit, you didn’t disappoint, boys! Neither of yeh! I’m so goddamn proud!” Oscar was overflowing with pride and accolades as he held your cheeks and faces, looking at you both as if he had just won the grand prize. 

“Jimbo, take care of our fellas, here. Clean them up real good, okay? Have them back to my office as soon as possible. Need to collect their winnins’.” Oscar stood up, being met with ten or so other men in congratulatory embraces. 

And Jimbo did. He unwrapped your hands, gave you water, cleaned and treated your cuts with better treatment than you would get at a doctors office. You glanced over to Y/N as she bit her fingernails, giddy and vibrating with happiness for you. For the both of you. 

Jake was right, maybe she was a good luck charm. 

—

HER POV

It’s mostly quiet on the way back to the hotel, only the muffled sound of the radio as it quietly plays. The loudest is the labored breathing coming from both of the men in front of you. There’s a slight tremble in Jake’s breathing and you can tell that swift shot to the ribs is causing him some major pain now that the adrenaline has worn off. The street lights are flashing in through the windows every few seconds, highlighting the dark smears of blood and bruising starting to color their skin. 

Jake’s left hand hangs awkwardly over the steering wheel, as his knuckles are too swollen to grip it properly. His fingers are twitching from the overexertion, but you can tell he is doing his best to ignore it. His right hand sits delicately on his leg, his hand facing upward as he tries to flex his fingers with little to no avail. Danny seems to be in slightly better shape, his match not going nearly as long as Jake’s had, affording him slightly less damage to his body. 

One particular shot to his face had his left eye swelling, and the sheer force he used to knock the guy out had split the skin on his knuckles. He took a few blows to the ribs, and you could see the purple blooming on his skin only minutes after he left the fight. A punch to the nose left a trail of dried blood on his face, and black spots developing under his eyes. Their bodies were worn down, and completely exhausted, but to them it was worth it to walk out of that building knowing they had proved themselves to Oscar. You were sure it didn’t feel half bad to have a pocketful of cash either. 

Jake struggled to turn the wheel into the parking lot of the hotel, but he managed, taking a deep breath before shifting the car into park. He painstakingly pulled the keys from the ignition and flipped his seat up to let you climb out of the back. You gave him a sympathetic smile as he shut the door behind you, the two of you walking over to meet Danny at the hotel room door. 

As he spun the key in the lock, the three of you entered and the door slammed shut behind you. Your eyes scanned the room for an ice bucket, spotting a vending machine area at the end of the corridor. Danny fell back onto the small queen size bed with a groan, a deep breath releasing from his chest as his muscles began to ache. You grabbed the ice bucket, and walked over towards him as he lifted his open hand to you. You grabbed it, gently holding his tired hand. “You should shower, get the blood off of your face. I’m going to go get some ice so we can ice that eye.” you said, to which he responded with a tired groan. 

You saw Jake out of the corner of your eye, doing his best to pull the cushions from the couch to pull out the stowaway bed. His hands were clearly bothering him, you could tell just from the way he was holding them. You set the bucket down on the dresser and rushed to help him, his eyes meeting yours in silent thanks. The two of you worked to pull the bed from underneath the cushions, unfolding it and watching the thin mattress spring to life. You walked over to the small closet, pulling out a spare set of sheets, and a pillow before making your way back over to the bed. You could see the pained look on his face as he realized he would have to get the bed ready, but what he didn’t know is that you never intended to make him.

You quickly found the fitted sheet and shook it out. You saw Danny stand from the bed, and make his way into the bathroom, turning the shower on to warm up. He shut the door behind him and your eyes met Jakes. 

“Thank you… for helping me. I swear I’m not helpless I–”

“It’s fine Jake. I don’t mind. Really.” you said, tucking the last side of the sheet over the mattress. You threw the flat sheet and blanket over the mattress and fluffed the pillow. “There. All set. I’m gonna go get some ice for you two and I’ll be right back.”

“They have a vending machine?” he asks. 

“Yeah, end of the corridor, Ice and Vending.” you answered. He gave you a soft smile and nodded his head, perching himself on the edge of the bed as he struggled to untie his boots. You slipped quickly out the door, making your way to the ice machine, filling the bucket and the two plastic bags you were allotted. The weather was cool, and the wind felt nice on your skin compared to the sticky humidity in the hotel room. You made the walk back a little bit slower than normal, just enjoying the coolness of the night before pushing the door to your room open. 

As you entered the room, you flicked the latch to let the door close fully. You set the ice bucket and the two bags down on the dresser, stepping over towards the bathroom to grab small towels to wrap them in. Danny was now laid out on the bed in just his boxers, his damp hair creating a halo around his head as he laid there. You could hear the shower running and assumed Jake decided to let the hot water soothe his aching body. 

You grabbed one of the ice bags and wrapped the small white towel around it, as you sat down next to Daniel. “Hey…” you breathed, running your fingertips down his chest. “Should ice your eye. It’s swelling pretty bad.”

He opens his eyes to look at you, giving you a soft grin and grabbing the ice filled towel from you. He places it over his darkening eye, before grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers with his. “I’m glad you came.”

“Why, so I could be your sexy nurse?” you laughed. 

He smiled and shook his head, “No. You were good motivation. Wanted to win. For you.” he admits. 

“Well you did. I’m proud of you. Both of you. Consider me very impressed by your manliness.” you say, rubbing your thumb over his. 

“I don’t know about manly. I feel like I got hit by a truck.” he groans. 

“Used a lot of strange muscles I’m sure. And I hate to say it but I know it’s going to hurt worse in the morning…”

“I know, I know. You coming to bed?” he asked, moving over to the right side of the bed. 

“Yeah. I’m gonna wait for Jake to get out of the shower and make sure he ices his hand, then I’m going to have a shower. I’m sure you’ll be long out by then.” you smile. He nods his head and shuffles himself beneath the stiff hotel sheets, letting out another groan of pain as he settles. 

“If you can stand five more minutes of the ice, you can be done and go to sleep.” you say, standing and walking back over to the dresser. 

“If I fall asleep with it on my face will you take it off? I don’t know if I’m gonna last five more minutes with my eyes open.”

You laugh as you prepare Jake’s ice pack. “Yes, I will take it off. Close your eyes.”

“Goodnight, beautiful.” he breathes. 

“Night Danny.”

It’s less than two minutes before you hear his breathing even out and his hand that was holding the ice bag fall behind his head. You grab your book from your bag of things, and kick off your shoes as you move to position yourself on the left side of the bed. A few minutes later you hear the bathroom door open, and are met with the vision of Jake walking slowly across the hotel room with a towel around his waist. The water is still dripping from his skin, and you can’t help but think that maybe he was in too much pain to really dry himself much more than he did. 

Your eyes travel the length of his tattooed torso, catching sight of a few new tattoos you hadn’t noticed yet. You tried not to stare but the way his skin pulled across his stomach was positively hypnotic. You flipped the page in your book, pretending to read the words on the page, but the truth is that you were studying his every move as he pulled clean clothes from his bag. With his back to you, you were free to look as conspicuously as possible, but as the towel began to sink lower and lower on his hips, your heart rate began to spike. 

You swallowed nervously as he stood up, stepping carefully into his boxers, and pulling them up his legs as the towel dropped to the floor. You felt the tendons in your neck jerk as you caught sight of his bare ass, and as he spun around you felt your face grow hot with guilt of being caught.

Your eyes snapped back to your book as he looked at you. You could see him bend over to pick up the towel, quickly running it through his hair to dry the dripping ends. He tossed the wet towel over the back of a chair, sitting on the end of the bed, with a painful exhale. You closed your book and set it on the bed, standing to retrieve the ice pack you’d made for him. You grabbed it off the dresser as his eyes fixed on you, nervously turning to meet his gaze and you held it out to him. “For your hand.”

He took it from you, letting his fingers brush yours for a miniscule second, before setting the cold towel on his knuckles. You watched him swallow down the pain, as his eyes flicked up to yours. “Thank you.” he paused, tumbling over his words in his mind. “Might have gone a little too hard on the first one.” he smiled, hoping to earn him a little laugh. 

“Worked in your favor.” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Gonna take a shower. Leave that on there for as long as you can, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.” 

—

The room was dark when you stepped out of the bathroom. Just the sounds of Danny’s snoring and Jake’s hard breathing. You hung your towel on the back of the bathroom door, running your hairbrush through your hair as you walked through the room. The room was stuffy, the A/C not cooling the room below 76, so you opted for just a large t-shirt tonight, hoping it wouldn’t be too warm. 

You pulled the sheets back on the bed, crawling in next to Danny and letting out a comfortable sigh. In your peripheral you watched Jake roll over on the pullout bed, the sound of the metallic springs filling the room. You knew it couldn’t be comfortable, especially for how much he was hurting. You’d trade places with him in a second but you knew there was no way he would let you take the worse bed. The sound of the barely functioning AC unit roared to life and you let the whirring sound of the fan lull you to sleep, thankful that you were here to help them out in what little way you could. 

—

Your bladder wakes you, begging for relief. It’s an ungodly hour, probably around three if you had to guess, and you begrudgingly slide yourself out of the bed to cave to the nagging feeling. You hear Jake roll over again, a sigh leaving his lips as you shut the bathroom door to relieve yourself. You wipe the sleep from your eyes as you flush the toilet, hoping it wouldn’t wake either of them. As you pad back through the room you see Jake move to get up, succumbing to his own bladder. 

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” you whisper. 

“No. I’ve been up. Can hardly sleep.” he answers, his voice just as soft as yours. You take a drink from the glass of water on your nightstand as he quickly returns from the bathroom, falling into his bed with a hiss of pain. 

“Jake, please take the bed. I feel so bad.” you plead, walking over towards him. 

“No. I’m fine. I’m just sore. I’ll be okay.” he replies, trying to position the pillow beneath his head. The thin flat sheet laid just over his hip, leaving most of his stomach exposed. You let your eyes travel over his body as you sat in front of him on his bed. 

“I’m sorry that you’re in pain. Wish there was something I could do. I’d do it.” you admit. 

“I’ve been in pain much worse than this. Swear. Don’t want you to be worried about me. Dealt with this shit my whole life, this is nothin’.”

“You have nothing to prove to anybody, Jake.” you said, letting your hand rest on his.

“Do you often quote Maya? Or do you do it because you know I like it?” he asks. 

“What if I say both?” you breathe. 

His fingers move subtly against yours, “Then I’d say don’t stop.”

“Did Danny teach you how to fight?” you ask. 

“You have a lot of questions. How about you answer mine and I’ll answer yours.” he counters. 

“Okay. What’s yours?” you ask, grabbing the melting ice pack from the floor, and placing it on his swelling cheek. 

“Why do you read that Maya book, over and over?” he asks. 

You swallow harshly, unsure if you want to tell him the real reason. “Um…” you pause, trying to formulate your answer. 

“No. Don’t lie to me. I know there’s a reason. You’ve seen my ugly, now show me yours.” he demands. 

“Because her words help me realize that there is a life worth living if I just keep pushing through. Because she’s brave and– and I just keep hoping that if I read the words enough that something will stick and I will find that same braveness buried down somewhere in myself.” you answer honestly, completely unsure if you’d ever spoken the truth aloud. 

“You left your husband, right? That was brave…” he presses, letting out a shaky breath. 

“He was my fiance, we weren’t married yet. And yeah, I did.”

“Sounds pretty brave to me.” he says, his voice comforting the nervous feeling in your stomach. 

“Now your turn. Answer my question.” 

“Yeah. Danny taught me how to fight. We were young, he was fighting every damn day. Think it was because of his foster family at the time. Treated him like shit. Watched him punch a kid in the face, so I asked ‘em if he’d show me how to do it.”

“So, you two have always been this way…” you asked. 

He nodded his head, adjusting the ice on his cheek. “What’d your fiance do?”

The pain was still fresh, you hadn’t even really talked about it to anyone. “He cheated on me with his bookkeeper.” you said, letting your eyes flick down to the tattoo that sat just on top of his ribs. “Tell me about this tattoo.” you said, running your finger over the outline of the dark black spade, wanting to change the subject.

“That one, huh?” he sighs, “That would be a spade for Ace. He had one too. Got it when he died. Spades have been known to represent a few things, and well, when I was reading ‘bout em, I thought it was kinda fitting. They’ve got two meanings. Right side up, marks the end of life, upside down means you’re lookin’ for something. Something just beyond your reach.”

“What are you looking for?” you ask, letting your hand rest over the inked symbol.

“Dunno. Something. It’s out there, whatever it is. I feel it.” he says, wincing as he rolls to his side. Your hand falls from his ribs down onto the sheets and you pull it back to your lap. 

“Hey, thank you for… I don’t know. You kinda fixed Valor. I would have never thought of checking the heads for cracks like that.” he says, a look of genuine thanks in his eyes. 

“Nooo… You would have figured it out eventually, I didn’t even do anything but make a stupid joke. You really should give yourself more credit, Jake. I think you’re smarter than you want people to believe.” you answer. 

“Really? You think that?” he asks, a boyish quality to his voice. 

“Yeah. I do.”

You can tell he is biting back words as his lips twitch, and in this moment you’d give anything to hear them. His swollen hand slides up your bare leg to grab your hand as it sits in your lap. His skin is perfectly warm against yours, and the fire in your stomach seems to be growing from a smoldering ember to a full on blaze. 

“Got you somethin’.” he breathes, letting a sweet smile cross his lips. 

“What? Me?” you question, furrowing your brow. 

“Mmhm. Grab my jeans from the floor.”

Your eyes scan the floor spotting the old Levis crumpled in a pile by his bag. You lean over the bed, grabbing them from the floor and holding them in your lap.

“Reach into the pocket.” he presses. 

You check the front pocket and you feel a long hard foil roll, wrapping your fingers around it and pulling it out. You hold it up in the darkness of the room, trying to make out what it is. A warmth radiates from your chest as the light hits it just right, and you can make out the words. ‘Lifesavers - Cin-O-Mon’

“You got me my cinnamon candy… Where did you– When?” you ask, holding the foil roll in your hand. 

“While you were in the shower. Vending Machine.” he smirks, squeezing your hand.. 

“Jake, you didn’t have to do that…” 

“Wanted my first purchase with my winnings to be something special.” he breathes.  “Nevermind they were only fifty cents.”

You feel your heart twist at the sweetness of the gesture, and that fact that he even remembered you mentioning you were out. “Jake…Thank you…” 

You rub your thumb over his hand, grasping it tightly and pulling it up to your lips. You press a soft, gentle kiss to his swollen knuckles, letting it linger just a little longer than you should as your eyes lock with his. 

“You’re welcome.” the words barely audible as they leave his mouth.

You stand to make your way towards your bed, but as you pull away his hand doesn’t let go of yours. He holds you there, the two of you locked into that moment. He purses his lips together as he blinks slowly, “Goodnight, cinnamon girl.”

A shy smile spreads across your face as his words sink in. Your mind swirls back to just the other night in the garage. Just you and him baring your souls to each other, much like you are now. Cinnamon girl…

“Goodnight, Jake…” his name on your tongue never tasting sweeter than it did at that moment.

He drops your hand and lets you walk over to your bed, but you hear him turn over as you place the roll of cinnamon candies on the nightstand with your book. You slide into the sheets and pull them up over your shoulders, attempting to get comfortable again. You feel Danny wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you in tightly to meet his body, but as you peer over the edge of the bed to the pull out bed across from you, your eyes lock with Jake’s again. The two of you just lay there, staring at each other for what felt like hours, and as Danny’s hand slides down your hip, you can’t help but wish it was the hand that belonged to the brown eyes staring back at you, instead. 

—

When the morning came your eyes sprang open, quickly taking in your surroundings and remembering where you were. You could feel Danny’s warm body pressed against your back as a sheen of sweat covered your limbs. Your eyes caught sight of Jake, still in the same position he laid in as you fell asleep, although this time his bruised eyes were closed and he was sleeping soundly. You wondered how long he continued to look at you after you fell asleep last night, pondering the thought that you’d seemingly slept through the rest of the night after your chat with Jake. Something that hadn’t happened in the past few days. 

You rolled to your back before turning to face Danny, the sight of his face just as bruised and swollen as Jake’s. You lift your hand to gently rub your thumb over his swollen cheek, stirring him awake as his eyes fluttered open. 

“Good morning.” He whispered in a scratchy voice. 

“Morning…How are you feeling?” you ask, feeling his hand grip your hip under the sheets. 

“Don’t think I can complain too much when I’ve got you here like this…” he flirts, letting his thumb slide under the hem of your panties. When you don’t stop him he takes it further, sliding his fingers into the front of the pink fabric, dusting his fingertips across the sensitive skin.

“Danny!” you huff, looking over your shoulder to see Jake still asleep.

“What? He’s out. Can’t hear shit anyways.” he gripes, pulling his hand from your panties. 

“Later.” you offer, and he accepts with a soft kiss to your lips. 

You slide out of the bed, and make your way to the bathroom with your clothes for the day, dressing and brushing your teeth before returning to the bedroom. Stepping through the bathroom door you see Jake sitting on the edge of his bed, putting on his jeans and his boots before standing to grab his shirt. Danny is dressed and sitting on the bed, spinning the car keys on his finger. 

“Ready, baby?” Danny asks, seeing you emerge from around the corner. 

You tear your eyes away from Jake pulling on his t-shirt over his purple marred skin as you answer, “Yep, but I get shot-gun this time.”

Jake flashes him a laughing grin as he slings his bag over his shoulder. “You heard ‘er. Let’s go.”

—

The drive home seemed significantly shorter than the drive there, but you’re sure that was due to the nerves running through all of you at the time. You were glad it was done and over, but you knew it probably wouldn’t be the last time. Not after the highs they were riding. 

You smiled to yourself as you watched Jake flip the 8-track for the third time in a row, offering him a lifesaver from the pack he so generously gifted you. He popped one into his mouth with a twinkle in his eye before you turned to Danny to offer him the same. 

“Eh, no thanks, don’t like cinnamon that much.” he says, squeezing a hand over your shoulder from the backseat. You wrap up the candies and place them in your purse as you let the cool wind blow through the window and across your face as Bruce serenades you with his gentle crooning. 

—

It wasn’t long until the car was pulling in at the shop, and the overwhelming feeling of being home washed over you. Which was a little strange given that this wasn’t your home. Did you even have a home? The three of you piled out of Valor and made your way into the house, the familiar homey smell comforting, as you’d grown accustomed to over the last week. 

Almost immediately Jake excused himself to the garage, turning on the radio as the shop door slammed shut. You followed Daniel down the hallway to his bedroom, seeing him flop down on his bed with a sigh.

“Backseat is small as fuck. You’re lucky you’re so cute and that I can’t say no to you.” he teases, grabbing your hand and pulling you down on top of him. His hands come to rest over your ass as he cranes his neck up to press his lips to yours. 

“Mmm, you ready for that later now?” you murmur against his hot wet lips. 

Pressing his hardening bulge against your center, he smirks, “You tell me.” 

—

The two of you had fallen victim to exhaustion after a few long overdue rounds. Both of you taking it easy on each other as his body was still riddled with bruising and sore muscles. That didn’t seem to phase him however, and even with minimal effort he held you in the palm of his hand as he had you falling apart for him over and over again. You wondered if you’d ever get used to the way he unraveled you, leaving your body exhausted and spent in the best ways. 

He was still asleep next to you as your eyes took in the darkness of the room. You silently crawled out of the bed, pulling a t-shirt over your head as you slipped out of his bedroom and into the bathroom. The house was quiet, and the music in the garage had stopped. You could hear talking though. You could make out Jake’s laugh from a mile away. Your brow crinkled as you wondered who was making him laugh like that if you and Danny were locked away in his room the whole night. 

Your curiosity got the best of you as you snuck into the kitchen, and gently twisted the knob to the shop door. You knew it would squeak if you opened it all the way, so you only just cracked it, opening it just enough to see Jake and the blonde haired woman leaning up against Valor. Who is that?

Realizing it was truly none of your business you shut the door, and made yourself a glass of water. You leaned on the countertop as you sipped from the glass, drinking down its contents as you let your mind wander back to last night. Why were you feeling so jealous after such an amazing night with Danny? 

You shook the thoughts from your head, knowing you needed to go back to him before he noticed you were gone. You began to wash the glass, drying it with a kitchen towel to leave no trace of your presence. The doorknob twisted, causing you to jump as you placed the glass back in the cabinet. With the unmistakable squeak, the door flew open and Jake and the unknown blonde woman came stumbling into the kitchen completely connected to each other. 

Her arms were wrapped around his body as he closed the door behind them, clearly unaware of your presence as his hand traveled to her backside, squeezing and what you now knew was his favorite part of a woman. Her mouth was attached to his neck, as his hands wandered her body. She caught sight of you, growing tense and stopping her actions with Jake as she cast you a dirty look. 

“You need somethin’? Wait, who’re you?” she scoffed.

“Y/N. Who are you?” you quipped back.

“Suzanne.”

Jake whipped his head around to see you pressed into the kitchen cabinets in nothing but a thin white t-shirt. His eyes flashed to your chest, where your nipples stood at attention from the rush of cold air coming in from the garage. You crossed your arms over your chest as he cleared his throat. 

“Yeah, she’s uh–” he paused, sucking his teeth as he pulled away from her. “She’s Danny’s girl.”

“Since when does Danny have a girl?” she asked, as if the thought was ludicrous. Not waiting to hear his answer she continues walking through the kitchen towards his bedroom. “Whatever. You coming, baby?”

Baby?

He breathes in deeply as he pulls his gaze from you, turning to face her as she reaches for his hand. 

“Yeah, I’m comin’. I’ll be there in a sec. Go wait for me.” he answers, smacking her ass as she walks down the hallway.

He looks to you and pauses for a moment as if he wants to say something. His eyes search yours, but it seems he can’t find the words he needs as he blows out a breath and swipes the stray hairs away from your face instead. He pulls his hand back and runs his fingers over his face as she calls his name from the hallway. He turns to follow her, and instinctively you follow after him, pausing as you reach Danny’s bedroom door. You turn, pressing your back to the wood door to watch him as he takes the few steps towards his door.

The two of you turn to look at each other one more time, and suddenly you’re back in that same moment from last night. Completely locked in on each other like you’re the only two on the planet. His eyes bore deep into yours, hoping you could hear what he was trying to tell you, but there was nothing. Static, just white, jealous, deafening static. 

You’re both pulled back to reality as you hear her shrill voice call to him again through the door. He blows out another breath and reaches for the doorknob, pushing the door open but pausing to meet your gaze as he smirks. He pulls his nearly empty pack of gum from his jeans pocket and slides a stick into his mouth. He rolls the red gum around his tongue as he blows a quick bubble, his warm pink tongue running over his bottom lip.

In a split second decision he makes a move to step back towards you, walking slowly and placing the pack in your hand as your eyes flashed down to the single stick left inside. 

“There. Now everybody gets a piece, don’t they...” he says with the raise of his brow as he turns back, stepping through his door, and locking it behind him. 

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[kuroneko1815]

Imperial Domesticity: Winter Days

Penelope and Callisto create fun winter traditions and heal their inner child in the process.

Penelope looked at the glistening snow and watched as the servants cleared paths in the snow. It was her fifth winter in the palace and the first since she’d become Empress. She gently stroked her womb and smiled at the thought that in a few months, she would be able to hold her baby in her arms.

Callisto came in, doors opening gently so as not to startle her. It had become a routine for him to check up on her at least once every hour or two. Her lover of five years and husband of mere weeks, he was an overly protective and doting man, and was quite a devoted husband, and one that she had no doubt would be a wonderful father to their little baby.

She smiled at him, a hand held out and waited patiently as he crossed the room and pulled her into a hug from behind. Their intertwined hands on her stomach, his face buried in her neck, tickling it with his breath. He hummed in contentment.

“I’ve dismissed court, there’s too much snowfall anyway and it seems as though more will come as the hours progress.” He said. “I sent them away through magical means.”

“And the paperwork?”

“I’ve finished it all.” He said proudly. “So we have the whole day off.”

Usually, such a statement would be met with a suggestion to retire to bed which often led to a bout of love making but Penelope had gotten a different idea. She had heard that the large reflecting pool in the garden had frozen over and she had already had some preparations made before hand for such an occasion.

“If you’re free, would you care to join me for a stroll about the gardens?”

“Won’t you be cold?” He asked her worriedly. Her attentive husband was always worrying over her health, especially now.

“I’ll be fine.”

-

-

“What are we doing? Callisto asked as he eyed the shoes.

“Ice skating.” She explained as she waited for her husband to finish tying on her shoes, something he’d been quite insistent about.

“Ice…skating?”

“Yes, we’ll be doing something fun today that isn’t within our usual activities.”

-

-

Callisto had picked it up immediately, something Penelope wasn’t surprised about, the man had perfect balance and could master almost anything in an instant. One of the things he struggled with was giving her independence, his need to know everything about her, to be able to ensure that nothing untoward was happening around her, meant that he had manipulated as much of her environment as he could, even the personnel she had worked with as an archaeologist. He’d gotten much better since that first argument they’d had when she ran away to the duchy and she could often bring him in line with a long conversation. And now that they were married, it was as though something had settled in him.

They laughed together as they spun around, hand in hand, over the reflecting pool he’d had placed in when he had begun planning the wedding, a feature for the gardens to commemorate their wedding. The wind whipped around as they twirled and danced, gliding on the ice. She loved watching him smile, watching him enjoy life and experience these things that a normal person would have had in a normal and loving childhood.

She loved sharing these new experiences with him as they tried to explore things they’d missed out on. Him from his duty and the war, and her through poverty and abuse in both lives.

-

-

They went ice skating every day as much as the weather permitted it, and they took Judith along as well when she was born. Judith, strapped to her father’s chest, often stared wide eyed at her surroundings, wings fluttering in excitement, a high pitched shriek of laughter as they played in the snow.

-

-

On Judith’s third winter, Penelope had decided on something new. Yes, they had gone ice skating, made snow men and snow angels, and now… now they were going up hill to where a sled would be waiting for all three of them. Callisto was now used to her wild ideas of play and went along with it easily enough, knowing that this was just as much for the two of them as it was for their daughter.

“Judith and I are getting on first.” She said. “And you come in after us, and then we’ll go down hill. Alright?”

He eyed the sled suspiciously. “Penelope, sleds like these are dangerous and they’re only useful for carrying supplies through wintery terrain.”

“Just trust me, it’ll be fun.”

He sighed, giving in easily, most likely knowing that he wouldn’t be able to change her mind nor win an argument against her.

She had sat down first, placing Judith on her lap and tying themselves down. Penelope wasn’t stupid, she had the sled made so that there would be magical protections in place to keep them safe, and she had the hill inspected after choosing one that wasn’t too steep.

Callisto got in after making sure that they were really secure. And then he braced himself, an arm around her and Judith before he kicked the ground and pushed them over the edge. Judith screamed loudly, a wide smile on her face as they sped down the hill.

When they finally stopped, Judith waved her hands. “Again! Again! More sled! Mama, Servant! More!” She demanded.

“Well, who am I to say no to my little princess?” Callisto asked as they got off the sled. He easily lifted it up with one hand and they trekked back up the hill.

After an hour or so of continuous sledding, Penelope had one last thing she wanted to do before they went back. As Callisto handed the sled over to a waiting servant, Penelope picked up some snow and made it into a ball, aimed for her husband and flung it as he was turning back to her. It hit him square in the face.

She laughed at the stupefied expression on his face. There was no killer intent, no malice or any of the sort to alert him. Just his wife’s regular mischief and good humour.

He huffed and picked up some snow as well. And with that, the imperial snowball fight began. Judith had even joined in, throwing a few poorly aimed and poorly compacted snow balls at her father before she merely jumped on him, ‘tackling’ him to the ground and tickling him into ‘submission’, though in truth it was her adorability that had gotten her husband to submit. Thus ending the snowball fight.

After dusting themselves off, they walked back into the sun palace and Penelope ordered some cookies and hot chocolate with marshmallows brought in for an afternoon treat. The quick change in clothes allowed her orders to be met and the three of them cuddled on a fur rug in front of the fireplace, a soft, warm, and fluffy blanket covering them as they had their treats.

She listened to Judith’s stories of her adventures and lessons, listened to Callisto’s voice reading one of their daughter’s favourite stories, and she herself sang some lullabies until their baby fell asleep. Yes, this was the perfect day among many other perfect days she’d had since she had been with Callisto.

Her eyes soft as she gazed at her husband who was staring at their daughter with so much love. The shadows in his eyes were mostly gone now, chased away by the love he surrounded himself in. And every time she found a new way to replace those horrible associations of war and death he had with things as mundane and fun as sleds with something fun and exciting, she felt as though she had won a great victory. In a way, she felt as though every time she made these core memories for her daughter, she and Callisto were also healing from the scarred and tormented children they’d been.

-

-

Their winter day traditions kept evolving, growing as the time passed and their family expanded and grew. Their children adapting and playing on their own when their parents were too busy. But it wasn’t uncommon for Penelope and Callisto to take one day in the winter when they’d be able to just spend time with their family rather than do some work.

The rug cuddles became more complex as they shifted around, pillows on the floor as they made little forts with the blankets and chairs, the servants already anticipating Penelope’s request for treats. The children would put on little acts or perform the songs or poems they’d written. Sometimes they’d fall asleep there, having taken their dinner in the family room, and wake up to their gift giving day. Her own take on Christmas and Saturnalia. And Penelope knew or at least she hoped, decades down the line, when her children began families of their own, they would continue with these traditions and cherish them. Holding these memories together as precious to them as they are to Callisto and Penelope.

I had this idea when I was shovelling snow the other week and one of the dad’s was running down the road for our little hill street with his daughter on a sled and pulling her back up. I wanted them to have this happy moment with Judith. And in the future, their other children would experience it as well. Penelope also liked the fact that she was changing Callisto’s perceptions of winter. Before they met, he hated it with a passion given the difficulty it made with moving his army and supplies, the fact that his men died from the cold, and the memories of the snow red with blood. The way the sleds were only used for the supplies also made him associate it with those negative memories.

After he met Penelope, she would spend winters in the palace because it was too cold to dig and the ground froze anyway so there was no point in her trying to excavate. But then she brought in mistletoe kisses, gift exchanges, New Year’s kisses, and now all of these other activities that he did with her and their family like skating, snow angels, snow men, snowball fights, sledding, rug cuddles, pillow forts. It was something so amazing he couldn’t help but look forward to snow days.

P.S. A love twice lived’s second chapter is now out.