#but at least you could almost guarantee the fire alarm was over nothing

[gottagobuycheese]

twelve years of earthquake safety only to stay in bed and hope it goes away before I have to actually do something, university has ruined me

[seoconsultant-1]

6 Things You Should Discover Life Insurance

That two word response was in order to colleague of mine; after she had so magnificently offered us a cigarette after our lunch time. Normally in this situation I would personally have pounced, feral instincts taking over as my brain realised there was free nicotine up for grabs. Today, well last Thursday regarding exact; I quit smoking - hence my completely irrational (for a "smoker" at least) answer.

"Please go back. It is usually quite risky out here," said a firefighter. Suchandan had already commenced suffocating. I threw final glance at the hell of an floor, and started descending the steps. Carefully escaping the hose pipes, wires and debris as we had done on our journey in the Nandaram building, we reached the salir. We were covered in soot, and were all groggy the family emerged from the the starting. After washing my face for just a hand pump across the building, I glanced for you to take a style at the firemen fighting the terminate.

Is offering not created to be flip, but sometimes you have to trim your losses. When cigarette Fume Infinity gets deeply enmeshed into the fabric of an ex-smokers favorite couch, end up being be nothing that will ever get against each other. Unless you enjoy reupholstering furniture, you could have to throw it away. Better yet, market it to a smoker.

Talk to your own loved ones, in order to garner their support in stopping smoking. Communicate your need for support, so as that they can understand their important roles, rather than becoming judgmental or suspect. Warn them close to fact that you might likely be grumpier than normal as start the way. You could be also a bit fuzzy-brained. It isn't easy to quit smoking, and should guaranteed you have your loved ones' support during this process.

Fill a tub with vinegar and also it on your platform in the leading seat, close the windows, open the floor vents and turn on the heat full blast. Allow car run in this state a great hour before removing the package. Another version of this remedy requires hot summer weather and allowing the bathtub sit on to the ground with the windows closed all day.

Foul Bathroom - Evaluate the bathroom in the tattoo shop you for you to go to in loan. Does it look and smell wash? The look of the bathroom will cover an regarding the involving cleanliness in the industry. If the employees take a nonchalant attitude to the bathrooms cleanliness they also are nonchalant their cleaning of there personal stations.

She made an excuse and left the bistro early, not too he is at there almost as much ast he was too busy outside chain smoking. Her mistake was sticking around too long and not going for the best dating site to secure a screen and background payment. The twin brother hold shown on.

Fire alarms and smoke detectors are also important shop alarms have got. Thieves and shoplifters aren't the only threat to all your business. Fire is exceedingly. Getting a good fire security alarm for your shop assist to alert you of the option of a fireplace that may damage your goods or your store. This way of a beginning warning device will help you save you a lot of of money by letting you know among the possibility of your fire before it gets too big to control and produced.

[zuko-always-lies]

Unpopular Opinion: Zuko’s treatment of Mai is deeply toxic.

Mai is a character who is often maligned in the fandom, with it even occasionally being claimed that she was “abusive” toward Zuko. Any objective analysis of Mai’s behavior in her relationship with Zuko will instead find that she was, in fact, a shockingly good romantic partner, generally treating Zuko very well and being loyal to him far beyond reasonable expectation.  Claims that Mai behaved toxically toward Zuko seem to be instead founded in misogynistic expectations that women be perfect caretakers for the men in their lives.

That is not to say that the Zuko-Mai relationship isn’t still deeply toxic. However, its toxicity stems from the manner which Zuko badly mistreats Mai, often in ways which devalue her. Much more under the cut.

Our story begins in the first half of Book 3.  The vast majority of episodes there don’t show anything particularly toxic going on in the relationship. The most you can say is that they suggest that Zuko tends to dump his problems on others and doesn’t have best understanding of his girlfriend.

However, inevitably we must turn to “The Beach,” the episode which, by far, gets the most into the Zuko-Mai relationship. To say that Zuko doesn’t behave well toward Mai in this episode would be an understatement. I don’t speak here of Zuko’s unsuccessful attempts to please Mai early in the episode, but instead how badly he starts treating her beginning at the party:

Ruon Jian: Hey, first ones here, huh? Zuko: (cut to shot of Zuko and Mai walking side by side) Pft. He thinks he's so great. (to Mai) Well, what do you think of him? (they stop walking) Mai: I don't have any opinion about him. I hardly know him. Zuko: You like him, don't you? (Mai sighs and walks away, as Zuko looks angrily in the direction of Ruon Jian. The camera zooms in on Ruon Jian)

And

(Cut to shot of Ruon Jian leaning over Mai. Zuko rushes toward them angrily and pushes Ruon Jian away from her. Cut to shot of Ruon Jian straightening his hair.) Ruon Jian: Whoa. What are you doing? Zuko: (close-up shot of Zuko, angry) Stop talking to my girlfriend! Ruon Jian: (Ruon Jian approaches Zuko) Relax, it's just a party. (Zuko pushes Ruon Jian hard, sending him flying across the room, breaking a giant vase.) Mai: (Mai stands up and grabs Zuko's shoulder. He turns towards her.) Zuko, what is wrong with you?! Zuko: What's wrong with me?! Mai: (angrily) Your temper's out of control. You blow up over every little thing. You're so impatient and hot-headed and angry. Zuko: Well, at least I feel something...as opposed to you. You have no passion for anything. (raising his arms is the air) You're just a big "blah". Mai: (turning away from him) It's over, Zuko. We're done.

 And:

(Zuko follows her and the camera pans down to the handprint, left alone on the porch. Cut to wide view of the camera panning down Ember Island Beach. Zuko and Azula are walking side by side toward Mai and Ty Lee. Close shot of Zuko looking toward Mai and then looking away. Close shot of Mai looking angry and a bit sad.) Mai: Hey... (Interrupted) Zuko: (close shot of Zuko) Where's your new boyfriend? (Mai turns away angrily. Zuko comes and sits next to her) Are you cold? (he puts his arm around her, but she slaps it away)

Zuko is acting in a massively controlling fashion toward Mai, motivated by his violent and rage-filled jealously.  She literally can’t talk to a boy without Zuko flying into a jealous rage, trying to separate her from the person she’s talking to, and accusing her of emotional infidelity. In real life, this is considered a warning sign for an abusive relationship(although I don’t think Zuko has crossed the line into abusive yet).

“The Beach” also gives us this:

Mai: Oh, well, I'm sorry I can't be as high-strung and crazy as the rest of you. (Cut to over-head shot of the four teens. Zuko walks closer to the fire and Mai.) Zuko: I'm sorry, too. I wish you would be high-strung and crazy for once, (Close shot of Mai looking away and Zuko standing over her) instead of keeping all your feelings bottled up inside. She just called your aura dingy. Are you gonna take that?

Zuko tries to provoke Mai into having a fight with her best friend Ty Lee just so he can watch her express strong emotions.  Zuko very much wants to Mai to be and act like someone she’s not, which has its own issues.

Overall, Zuko treats Mai quite poorly in “The Beach.” The episode ends with this:

Mai: I know one thing I care about... (Cut to shot of Mai smiling at Zuko) I care about you. (Mai and Zuko kiss. Azula claps, causing them to separate and turn toward Azula. The camera pans left to include her.)

Mai forgives Zuko and accepts him back without him acknowledging his behavior was wrong, apologizing for it, or giving her any guarantee that he will treat her better in the future. That’s unfortunate, as Zuko soon ends up treating her far, far worse than he ever did in this episode.

Zuko’s disregard for Mai cumulates with the manner he commits treason on the Day of Black Sun. Let us start our understanding of what he did wrong from the beginning. Breaking up with Mai via a letter which didn’t give her a real explanation was a real asshole move, but it’s not at the core of what he did wrong.  For that, we need to turn to this conversation from “The Headband”:

Zuko: Can't you see we're busy? (He and Mai resume their "business".) Azula: (not to be put off) Oh, Mai... Ty Lee needs your help untangling her braid. Mai: (complaisantly) Sounds pretty serious. (She gets up and leaves. Walking past Azula, towards the camera, she shoots the princess a quick, poisonous glance behind her back.) Azula: So...I hear you've been to visit your Uncle Fatso in the prison tower. Zuko: (standing, incensed) That guard told you. Azula: (smugly) No, you did. Just now. Zuko: (sitting back down) Okay, you caught me. What is it that you want, Azula? Azula: (solicitiously) Actually, nothing. Believe it or not, I'm looking out for you. If people find out you've been to see Uncle, they'll think you're plotting with him. Just be careful, dum-dum.

Zuko has proven his loyalty to the Fire Nation beyond doubt, yet Azula is still very worried that him spending time with Iroh will get him accused of treason, because having a close association with traitors puts oneself under almost automatic suspicion of treason.

“Day of Black Sun, Part II”:

Zuko: First of all, in Ba Sing Se, it was Azula who took down the Avatar, not me. Fire Lord Ozai: Why would she lie to me about that? Zuko: Because the Avatar is not dead. He survived. Fire Lord Ozai: (alarmed) What?!

Zuko deliberately throws Azula under the bus, hurting her and reducing her status with Ozai as much possible while effectively accusing her of deliberately committing treason. He also deliberately pisses off Ozai as much as possible.

So where does this leave us? Mai is Zuko’s known girlfriend and extremely close associate. Automatically, the suspicion of knowing of Zuko’s treason ahead of time or being involved falls upon her. She’s in grave risk of being imprisoned, tortured, or executed, especially since Ozai seems not the type to be strictly concerned with ensuring those he punishes are guilty beyond reasonable doubt. The Fire Nation seems like a society which might have collective punishment(as historical East Asian societies, Nazi Germany, and the Stalinist Soviet Union did), and Mai might be under risk from that direction.  Finally, Ozai might hurt her simply as way of retaliating against Zuko.

Normally Azula would almost certainly be able to protect her friend, even under these trying circumstances, given Azula’s prestige and accomplishments.  However, Zuko has deliberately undermined Azula as much as possible and effectively accused her of committing treason herself, dramatically reducing the probability that she will be able to protect Mai.  In fact, Mai stands risk of being accused of being involved in Azula’s effort to “conceal the fact that the Avatar survived,” given Mai’s close association with Azula and her close involvement in the events where the Avatar “died.” She’s thus under danger from two different directions.

“But Zuko had to betray his father and become good through aiding Team Avatar.” Yes, it’s a good thing he did so. But Zuko had other options than the course he adopted. He could have avoided confronting Ozai at all and instead focused on rescuing Iroh(interesting AU idea right here).  He could have confronted Ozai but not thrown Azula under the bus, and that alone would have vastly reduced the risk to Mai(and also made Zuko out to be a better person, because deliberately throwing your younger sister under the bus and then abandoning her to the mercy of your abusive father is not a good look).  Zuko could have killed Ozai right then and there during the eclipse.  He even could have tried to lead Team Avatar to the bunker and tried to end the war right then and there.

“Zuko didn’t understand that he was placing Mai in danger.” Quite possible, but Zuko being so self-centered that he is unable of understanding that his actions can have negative effects on other people is a mark against him, not for him.

Now we turn to the Zuko’s behavior toward Mai in the rest of the third season.  Let us start with “The Boiling Rock, Part 1”:

Sokka: (emphatically) I think your Uncle would be proud of you. Leaving your home to come help us, that's hard. Zuko: It wasn't that hard. Sokka: (Cut to a side view of the basket) Really? You didn't leave behind anyone you cared about? Zuko: Well I did have a girlfriend. Mai. Sokka: (He goes closer to Zuko with a surprised look on his face) That gloomy girl who sighs a lot? Zuko: (Cut back to show Zuko grinning goofily) Yeah. (his face turns serious) Everyone in the Fire Nation thinks I'm a traitor. I couldn't drag her into it. Sokka: (Cut back to Sokka who leans back on the basket) My first girlfriend turned into the Moon. Zuko: (looks up) That's rough buddy

There are two things to unpack here. First, Zuko claims he “couldn’t drag her into it,” yet he already did, as I’ve illustrated above. Second, Zuko seems to expect that Mai would have followed him into treason if he asked her, that she would be willing to betray her nation, ideology, family, and friends just for the sake of her love for him. That’s an insane and pretty toxic expectation for Zuko to have for her relationship with him, especially since he wouldn’t do the same for her.

We also get more confirmation that Zuko doesn’t care at all about Ty Lee or Azula.

I don’t have a lot to say about the Zuko-Mai conversation during Boiling Rock, Part 2. The only things I would like to note are that Zuko is not very sorry for what he did, not very empathetic toward Mai’s pain, and doesn’t give Mai a real apology for his actions.

Of course, Mai proceeds to save Zuko’s life through committing treason in front of dozens of witnesses at Boiling Rock, something which places her own life in serous jeopardy. How does Zuko react to this?

Zuko: (Cut to a shocked Zuko) It's Mai. Azula: (Cut to a furious Azula) What is she doing?! (Cut to the backs of Azula and Ty Lee as Ty Lee shrugs and makes a "I don't know" noise. Cut to the gondola as it reaches the outer part of the crater. Cut to the inside of the entrance tower as the door opens and Suki rushes out followed by Sokka, Zuko, Hakoda and Chit Sang. Hakoda turns towards Chit Sang and points to the inside of the gondola. Chit Sang proceeds to throw the warden back in.) Hakoda: (Cut to the back of Hakoda's head looking at the warden lying on the floor) Sorry Warden, your record is officially broken. (Hakoda walks off screen while the warden continues to struggle on the floor. Cut to a front shot of the group as they run up a rocky incline.) Suki: Well, we made it out. Now what? Sokka: (Sokka stops and looks back at Zuko who pauses in his tracks, thinking) Zuko, what are you doing? Zuko: My sister was on that island. Sokka: Yeah and she's probably right behind us. So let's not stop. Zuko: What I mean is she must have come here somehow. (He runs to the edge of the rocks and looks down) There. (Cut to an area looking up at the edge of the cliff) That's our way out of here. (Camera pans down to reveal a Fire Nation zeppelin docked at the shore.

Zuko says Mai’s name once and then abandons her (to die?) with zero hesitation.  This is probably objectively the correct decision. It would probably be extremely difficult and dangerous if not outright impossible to save Mai.  The prison-break crew do have access to an airship, but it’s difficult to fly an airship over the lake’s thermals.

Yet that’s not my point. Zuko abandons Mai with zero hesitation, with zero anguish, with zero angst. He doesn’t even to seem consider the possibility that he should save her.  Something tells me if Iroh had just saved Zuko’s life under identical circumstances and then was in imminent risk of harm, Zuko would act very differently, that Sokka, Suki, and Hakoda would have to drag him off that island.

Zuko’s complete disregard for Mai continues for the rest the series. Remember this exchange from “The Cave of Two Lovers”?

Zuko: (losing his patience) We're not taking any more chances with these plants! We need to get help. Iroh: But where are we going to go? We're enemies of the Earth Kingdom, and fugitives from the Fire Nation. Zuko: (musingly) If the Earth Kingdom, discovers us, they'll have us killed. Iroh: But if the Fire Nation discovers us, we'll be turned over to Azula.

Zuko considers being captured by Azula a worse fate than death!

But do we see Zuko worry once about Mai’s fate? Do we see angst about what might have happened to her? Do we see him make any effort to even discover her fate, much less rescue her?

No. In fact, Zuko launches a sophisticated operation to infiltrate a Fire Nation information center so that he can gain intelligence in order to help Katara murder someone so that she’ll like him, but he doesn’t even consider doing the same to find out about Mai’s fate so that he could potentially rescue her. Zuko doesn’t even mention Mai once after Boiling Rock until the very end of the series finale, even though she sacrificed herself to save him. Remember this exchange(“Sozin’s Comet, Part 3”):

Zuko: Sorry, but you're not going to become Fire Lord today. (jumps off Appa) I am. Azula: (laughs) You're hilarious. Katara: (standing beside Zuko) And you're going down. (The fire sage motions to crown Azula, but she raises her hand, signalling him to stop.) Azula: Wait. You want to be Fire Lord Fine. Let's settle this. Just you and me, brother. The showdown that was always meant to be. Agni Kai! Zuko: You're on. (Katara turns to Zuko, surprised. Cut to a close up of Azula's lips as the curls into a smile. Cut back to Katara and Zuko.) Katara: What are you doing? She's playing you. She knows she can't take us both so she is trying to separate us. Zuko: I know. But I can take her this time. Katara: But even you admitted to your Uncle that you would need help facing Azula. Zuko: There's something off about her, I can't explain it but she's slipping. And this way, no one else has to get hurt. (Fade to a shot of the courtyard from the side. The camera pans from Zuko kneeling on the right end to Azula kneeling on the left end. Cut to a shot of Zuko rising and turning around, then cut to a shot of Azula rising. Each can be seen behind the other. Cut to a shot of Azula from the front turning and removing the Fire Lord robes.) Azula: I'm sorry it has to end this way, brother. Zuko: (in his stance) No, you're not.

Notice something? Zuko doesn’t demand to know what happened to Mai! It’s almost like he forgot she existed!

Now we turn to the final infamous exchange(“Sozin’s Comet, Part 4”):

Mai:(off screen) You need some help with that? (He looks up surprised and moves aside to reveal Mai leaning against the doorway. Cut to a close up of Mai as she walks towards Zuko.) Zuko: (Cut to a delighted Zuko) Mai! (Walks off screen) You're ok. (Cut to an area behind Mai's back as Zuko opens his arms out in a hug) They let you out of prison? (Mai walks behind Zuko and lifts up his empty robe sleeve.) Mai: My uncle (Zuko puts his arms through the sleeve) pulled some strings, (she proceeds to fasten his robe) and it doesn't hurt when the new Fire Lord is your boyfriend. (She walks in front of Zuko and places a hand on his chest) Zuko: So does this mean you don't hate me anymore? Mai: (she blushes) I think it means... (Cut to a close up of the couple) I actually (places a hand on Zuko's cheek) kind of like you. (They lean in for a kiss and part a fewseconds later, looking into each other's eyes happily) But don't ever (She jabs a finger into Zuko's shoulder and Zuko's eye traces the movement of her finger) break up (She lifts her finger into the air and Zuko's eyes still follows it) with me again. (She jabs her finger into Zuko's shoulder one last time and Zuko smiles goofily. They embrace and the camera zooms out slowly.

Zuko seems surprised to learn that Mai is OK, almost like he made no effort to find out her fate once he took charge of the Fire Nation. And indeed, his first acts as leader of the Fire Nation were not to find out what happened to her or, if he actually knew, to get her released from prison.  Mai only got released from prison when her uncle and his connections got sufficiently confident that Zuko had been completely accepted as the new leader to release a massive traitor completely on their own initiative.  This was quite possibly weeks after Azula-Zuko Agni Kai, yet he made no apparent effort to get her released. It’s almost like Zuko completely forgot about Mai, even though she sacrificed herself to save him.

And, of course, Zuko doesn’t accept responsibility for any of the awful ways he treated Mai, much less apologize to her or offer any guarantee he will behave better in the future. Mai still forgives him anyways, just like she did in “The Beach,” only for Zuko to continue to screw her over. There is something deeply depressing here, as there’s every reason to believe that Zuko will screw over Mai over, devalue her, and disregard her well-being, desires, and interests again the moment it’s convenient for him to do so. He certainly has not recognized that his toxic behavior here is something he needs to stop doing. Ironically, the comics get this right by having Zuko try to use his power as Firelord to order Mai to stay his girlfriend.

Ultimately, Zuko loves Mai and cares about her deeply, yet he still treats her as a tool and acts like she exists to serve him. It reminds me how show! canon Ozai genuinely loved show! canon Ursa, but still used her as a tool and threw her away.  Honestly, I doubt 16-year-old Zuko is really ready for any romantic relationship at all, given his often toxic behavior, his trauma, and the incredibly stressful position he’s placed in at the end of the series.

[homerforsure]

Whumptober No. 6 Bruises / Touch Starved / Hunger Whumptober No. 30 major character death / left for dead / ghosts

Me: I can’t believe I have to post this absolutely incomprehensible piece of writing. 

Me: You don’t... have to?

Me: No, I’m gonna. 

Buck has an exceptional number of pillows on his bed. There are six, before he knocks a few to the floor every night, and he burrows into them like a nest, curling up with one against his chest, two pressed against his back, one between his legs. His sheets are a ridiculously priced, cool, crisp cotton that welcomes him in, surrounding him. The blankets he uses aren’t weighted, but they’re heavy and thick and he keeps his air conditioning turned up so he doesn’t have to give up the feeling of nestling into them in the heat of summer. Along with the white noise machine on his night stand, all of it is chosen to trick him into sleep. To keep back the feeling that night time in his own apartment is the loneliest part of Buck’s day. 

It wasn’t perfect, pre-covid. It’s been a long time since Buck had someone share his space, share his bed, someone he could reach out and touch whenever he wanted. But his life outside of home was full. He didn’t lack for closeness; in some ways he had more than he’d ever dreamed. So while he had lonely moments, they weren’t a constant ache in his chest. 

These months though. These months hurt. Facetime isn’t a substitute for curling up on Maddie’s couch with whatever silly-labeled wine she’d liked best that week. It’s definitely not a substitute for Eddie’s couch and losing to Christopher over and over again at Mario Kart. The last time they talked, Eddie had reached over and ruffled Christopher’s hair and Buck felt it. First as a tingle up the back of his scalp and then as a bruise to his heart. Eddie’s touches, so constant and so casual, became essential somewhere along the way and Buck feels himself reaching out for them even when he knows it’s not allowed.

“Six feet, gentlemen,” Bobby says gently when their orbits swing toward each other and Eddie makes a dramatic show of raising his hands and taking a giant step backward. Bobby just shakes his head and reminds them it’s the price they all agreed to pay for not wearing masks in the firehouse. 

Buck starts dreading the end of a call when taking off his heavy turnout coat leaves him feeling cold and exposed. He folds into himself, claiming a chair, putting in earbuds and crossing his arms tight over his chest, pulling his knees up even though he knows better than to put his shoes on the furniture.

It’s a similar position to the one he lies in at night, clinging to the pillows, trying to draw comfort out of the smooth fabric. In those moments, his loneliness is so loud it might as well be a beacon sent out into the universe, a burning shout of need. 

And that shout is heard. 

***

“Have you guys heard of exploding head syndrome?” Buck asks one morning when the calls are slow and the crew is all lingering in a lazy way rather than rushing off to take care of their other duties. 

“What, the band?” Chimney asks.

“I think it was an album,” Bobby says.

“No,” Buck sighs. “It’s a sleep thing. It’s this loud noise that you hear when you’re falling asleep like a massively loud explosion. Only it’s just happening in your head.”

“Is your brain actually exploding? Like an aneurism?”

“No. It’s just the noise.” 

Just the loudest noise Buck had ever heard. It woke him up with a feeling of abject terror. It was an explosion that didn’t echo. It just rang, clear and true through his eardrums like the end of the world. Even as he struggled out of his sheets, searching for the source so he could run from it, part of him knew it wasn’t a sound that left any physical evidence. What could it even be? A sound like that? An old fashioned safe dropping from two stories up? A car crash without the crunch? Just a high speed collision of two immovable objects, all of the equal and opposite reaction of their momentum forced to escape as sound. 

Once his heart rate had slowed, he googled. He wasn’t initially sure what to google. “Ridiculously loud noise woke me up” seemed at once too vague and too specific but sure enough. Exploding Head Syndrome. It was what happened. Obviously. But Buck remained too full of adrenaline to sleep. As he sat up in bed, he couldn’t shake the urge to look around. Under the bed, in the closet, behind the shower curtain. He didn’t feel alone. 

“I’m just glad it’s happening in your head instead of mine,” Chim laughs. “Maybe try putting some earmuffs on before you go to sleep tonight.” ***

The sound doesn’t reappear. Buck is relieved, but sleeping doesn’t get any easier. He tries to soothe himself with obscenely long hot baths, by ordering a hoodie that’s more fluff than fabric, by running a foam roller across his muscles, trying to pry them into relaxation. It’s so much work and it does so little. Buck’s entire body is screaming out at all times for a hug or a massage or even just a really fucking good haircut. It takes longer and longer to fall asleep and the little sleep he does get isn’t restful. It’s like whatever meager comfort he manages to give himself during the day is leached away in the night. 

He doesn’t even notice the bruises at first. It’s an easy enough thing to miss. Their job is heavy physical labor and Buck barrels through a scene like a one man stampede. Bruises are as common as the smell of smoke in his hair. The ones Eddie points out on his arm though are different. 

Buck’s carrying a kitten at the time. The fire they’ve been fighting is beaten back to smolders. Buck shucked off his coat, wet and dripping from the hose and too cold for the shaking animal, and grabbed a blanket from the ambulance to wrap her up and cradle her against his chest. He’s rubbing his face against her damp fur, feeling the softness like a concentrated shot of endorphins when Eddie asks, “What the hell happened to you?”

“What are you talking about?” Buck asks and Eddie’s hands are pushing up the sleeves of his shirt, rolling them up to his shoulders while Buck’s trying to hold onto the cat.

“You don’t feel that?”

“Feel what?” He’s maybe a little ruder than he means to be but the sleep deprivation makes him cranky and the touch deprivation means that Eddie’s gently probing fingers feel like a dream on his skin. The care in the brush of his hands makes Buck’s knees weak. 

“Your arms are bruised to hell,” Eddie says. “Are you- Did someone grab you or something?”

“I swear to god, Eddie. I don’t feel anything.” Except grumpy and exhausted and longing. 

“Jesus, it goes all the way up your shoulders. It looks like-” He stops, pulling Buck’s collar aside and tracing a small spot that Buck can’t see even if he turns his head. “They look like fingerprints, Buck. Are you seeing someone?” 

“What!”

“These are handprints. And they’re dark. Do you really not-”

Buck wrenches himself from Eddie’s grasp so he can turn around and look at him because if Eddie’s really accusing him of putting everyone at risk by trying to date someone right now… But Eddie’s face is nothing but concerned. Which makes Buck scared. 

“Is it really that bad?” he asks, clutching the cat to his chest. 

Eddie rubs a hand up Buck’s back (it feels so good, hot like Buck’s t-shirt isn’t even between them and is it just because it’s been so long or just because it’s Eddie?) without looking around to see if Bobby’s watching and that’s really all the confirmation Buck needs. It’s bad. 

***

After that, Buck starts to feel them. He wakes up and he can’t breathe. He wakes up and he can’t move. He wakes up on the floor. He spends every moment that he’s asleep fighting to wake up. Buck can only remember fragments and pieces of the torment but he knows that it feels like drowning. Like being held down. Like being grabbed and pulled and smothered. He thinks he remembers long dark hair. 

Google is useless. Sleep apnea. Sleep paralysis. Sleep terrors. Even sleepwalking. None of them can account for the worst of it. For the physical signs of whatever is happening to him while he sleeps.

Bruises bloom blue on the pale skin of his hips. Purple on his ribs. Green on the back of his neck. The ones that Eddie saw first on his arm fade to yellow.  A long scratch runs down the side of his face. Dark circles under his eyes grow darker every day. 

“What’s happening to me?” he asks his reflection.

All he wants is to be able to ask that question with someone’s arms around him. He wants anyone to hold him tight and shush his fears and tell him that it’ll be okay. 

It’s easier than he thought to hide it. Buck just chooses his shower times strategically and opts for a long sleeve uniform, complaining that he ruined his short sleeves ones by grabbing bleach instead of detergent while he was half asleep. 

He’s always half asleep these days.

At least in the bunk rooms, he gets some semblance of rest. Whatever presence he feels in his own bedroom doesn’t cross this threshold and Buck sleeps deeply, almost missing the scream of the alarm. 

“It’s getting worse isn’t it?” Eddie asks, cornering Buck in the locker room. Buck can’t help but nod and Eddie steps closer as if to touch him. 

Buck flinches away and Eddie pulls up short as though hitting an invisible wall. 

He breathes Buck’s name on a pained exhale and says, “You have to get some help. Whatever it is…”

“I don’t know what it is!’ Buck answers. “It’s living in my house and it- it- God. Maybe I need an exorcism.”

“Maybe you should come home with me,” Eddie suggests and Buck recoils again. 

The firehouse seems safe but there’s no guarantee that Buck won’t be followed anywhere else. He’s desperate to be safe--desperate for Eddie to make him safe--but not at the expense of anyone else. Not when he doesn’t know what he’s facing. 

“Okay,” Eddie says. “But call me in the morning.” 

***

The burned girl screams louder when she sees Buck than she did while they were putting out the inferno of her car. 

“Stay away from me!” She shrieks. “Stay awaystayawaystayaway.”

“Miss, we’re going to need you to calm down,” Hen says to her. “Buck, you wanna move aside? Like preferably somewhere she can’t see you?”

Buck does because the patient’s well-being is more important than anything, but his skin feels like ice. He wants to demand to know what else she sees when she looks at him. Wants to know how she knows. For half a second, he imagines following her to the hospital and waiting for her outside the glass doors.  

They aren’t far from her house (52% of accidents happen within five miles of home) and the girl’s father arrives on the scene before they finish prepping her to be transported. And he sees Buck. 

He freezes when he does, but at least he doesn’t scream. He ignores Buck completely, instead going to the ambulance where his daughter is still crying and trying to soothe her. Hen offers to let him ride in the ambulance, but he says that he’ll take his car. 

“You’re in a lot of trouble,” he says, returning to Buck as the ambulance pulls away. “What you summoned… That’s not a normal ghost.”

“I didn’t summon anything! It just happened.” Buck’s voice is high-pitched and he just barely stops himself from grabbing onto the man’s arm, but the man doesn’t seem afraid of Buck the way his daughter was. “What is it? How do I make it go away?”

The man shrugs, “She came in through an open door. Which door depends on the person. But she’ll do everything in her power to keep it pried open. All you can do is try to close it again.”

It is… the least helpful advice Buck’s ever been given in his entire life. But the man’s daughter is on her way to the hospital and he needs to follow her. He vanishes. 

***

They’re about to have four days off. Buck’s bracing himself to meet the woman in his dreams. To look around in that dreamspace for open doors and slam them shut again. He can do it. He has to. 

***

The next night Buck wakes up and he can’t move. He’s paralyzed on the bed. He’s paralyzed on the bed and someone’s standing at the top of his stairs. 

She’s not… right. Buck can’t quite see in the dark and he can’t lift his head but the woman on his stairs isn’t solid in the way a human should be. The outline of her is strong, but it’s like she’s a shell wrapped around a cavernous emptiness. She’s across the room but she’s already pulling at him. 

Buck tries to thrash but his arms are pinned as if her hands are already on his wrists. He needs to reach the lamp. If he can just turn on the light.

“Get away from me,” he pleads and the part of her face where lips should be turns up, revealing pointed teeth that stand in front of a void.

“You called me,” she says. The words don’t come from her mouth and Buck doesn’t hear them with his ears. It’s wrong wrong wrong. He throws himself hard to the left and he rolls, flying further than he expected to, suddenly free, and crashes hard into the table, knocking the lamp to the floor. It shatters, bulb and all and pain scrapes across Buck’s shoulders.

“Poor boy,” the ghost mocks. “Poor lonely boy. Just wants someone to touch him. Just wants someone to stay with him. I heard you.”

“No,” Buck says and he tries to scramble, but his feet can’t find purchase on the floor. “I didn’t want you.”

He doesn’t deny the call. Can’t deny it when his heart is reaching out in the same pleading, desperate way now. Please. Anyone.

In the time it takes to blink she’s in front of him. She’s so close. She shouldn’t be able to get that close without standing on him but she’s there. Her voice whispers in his mind, “You should choose your words more carefully.”

And then her hands are around his throat.

The pressure is insistent and her motive is unmistakable. She’s going to kill him. She’s going to squeeze the life out of him. He’s going to die here and Eddie’s going to find his body because Eddie’s going to come rushing over as soon as Buck doesn’t call him in the morning and what if this thing is still here waiting for him. 

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Buck’s mind yells for him like his lungs did when Eddie was buried except now it’s Buck who’s too far away, who’s trapped somewhere deep and dark with no hope of escape. 

He tries to breathe and his breath whistles. It’s like the first time someone handed him a styrofoam cup of coffee and he tried to drink through the plastic stir stick. Black stars twinkle in the room and tears build in his eyes. 

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 

There’s a shift as she adjusts her grip and it’s enough for the stars to clear. Buck throws himself forward, shaking his head like he isn’t a ragdoll trapped in the jaws of a rottweiler, like he has a hope of breaking free and then he does. The ghost is thrown off balance and Buck jumps, scrambling back over his bed for the stairs. He can’t even think about defeating her, finding out the secrets of where she came from, closing whatever fucking door he left open. All Buck wants to do is live. 

A force behind him swells like a wave to lift Buck off his feet and slams him into the bathroom door. He expects to slide off of it and onto the floor, but he’s held in place hard, his head turned and his cheek pressed to the wood, toes just brushing the ground. 

“You begged me to come,” the ghost hisses. “I’m here for you, lonely boy. Don’t fight so hard.”

A hand skims up his back, nearly gentle, but leaving a numbness in its path and Buck shudders in disgust. He jerks against the door, but his arms are wrenched behind him and he screams. He realizes it’s the first time he has.

“I didn’t call you! I don’t want you here! Get out.”

“I came because you needed me.” A long finger trails down his cheek and Buck whimpers. She’s taller than him now. Was she always? “I could feel you from so far away. An aching ball of need. I’m here for you now.” 

“I don’t need you,” Buck growls and the room flashes like lightning. He hopes to fall, almost expects to fall, where he can scramble again but instead, Buck is hurled away from the door completely. He has time to see that he’s above the stairs, throw his hands out uselessly and then he’s frozen. 

Buck hovers there in the air above the stairs, dangling in the grip of the ghost, like a cat grabbed by his scruff. Kicking wildly, he grabs for the invisible hand that’s holding him, yelling “No, no, no, no.”

“Need me now?” the ghost asks. 

Smothering the terrified part of him that nearly answers yes, Buck forces himself to stop twisting and just hang there. He doesn’t want to fall. He doesn’t want to die. But what he needs isn’t going to come from the ghost. 

“No,” he answers. 

And he can’t explain how he knows what her face looks like when it’s screwed up in fury, but he does. It’s vicious and vindictive and Buck’s not surprised at all when he’s flicked away from her and down the flight of stairs. 

He seems to hit each one as he falls, something that should be impossible with the speed that he’s traveling and the force with which he bounces off of them, but the ghost is obviously responsible. Air leaves his lungs as his ribs crack against the stairs. His elbows and knees scrape. His head bangs the rail. Buck’s long, long legs seem to tangle as he falls, cartwheeling him down and he lands in a heap at the bottom. 

As he tries to figure out if he can still move, the door flies open. 

Warmth rushes in. Buck hadn’t even realized how cold it had gotten since he first woke up, but the room seems to thaw around him. It’s like sunlight. 

It’s Eddie. 

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Evan. Buck. I’ve got you, Buck. I’ve got you.” 

Tenderly, he scoops Buck off the floor, unsnarling the mess of his limbs and feeling all over for the damage he can’t see. “I’ve got you. Open your eyes. Come on.” 

The ghost stands at the top of the stairs and then she’s at the bottom. Buck clambers backward again, digging his heels into the floor to push himself upright in front of Eddie, to try and hide him from view. Eddie doesn’t seem to see the ghost. All of his attention is still on Buck, stroking his hair, promising over and over that he’s there, that he has Buck. 

All of the ghost’s attention is on Buck too. “You need me,” she says. “You called for me.” She sounds different now. Bitter. Like Buck wasted her precious time. 

“I don’t need you,” he says and he reaches behind him to grab Eddie’s hand. “I already have everything I need.” 

Lights flicker and that impossibly loud sound bangs in Buck’s ears again. He gets one last look at the ghost’s vicious, violent visage and then she’s gone. 

And then Buck wakes up.

[p---ink]

Bittersweet Escape

Author’s Note: It’s been a while folks. Just wanted to get a few things in order before school started, hope no one forgot about me :). This post is dedicated to @swaggysposts​ who requested the prompts, and themes of this imagine, so blame her for the tooth-rotting fluff and filthy smut. I just hope I did her fantasy justice. Anyway, its a long one guys, I kind of went off the rails. I seriously dont blame you if you don’t finish reading this one. 😂

Summary: The slow burn relationship between Tony Stark and Y/N, leading up to their honeymoon night. 

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, in that order. Age gap, slight daddy/dom kink, slight exhibitionism...and I think that’s it. 

Word Count: 15.2k

Disclaimer: while the pictures in this vision board are not mine, the vision board is. 

Edited on 19 September 2020. Just did some minor editing and a few changes/additions in dialogue near the end. 

You were his assistant. Before you, he couldn’t keep one to save his life. Most of your predecessors couldn’t handle his eccentricity. The ones who could, he fired shortly after sleeping with them. Something about them becoming clingy and demanding special treatment, rubbed him the wrong way. 

But, you could perform your job and more, under the pressures of his personality. When I say more, I mean that you basically carried his company from behind the scenes. You also didn’t pay him any mind. This is ultimately what drove him crazy. 

How could this beautiful woman—who kept him from drowning, fail to give him the time of day?

Naturally, Tony became obsessed with you. He could not get you out of his head. His interactions with you started off as a joke. He would often tease you, flirt with you, and demand outright ridiculous things of you just to get your attention. He once demanded you give him your opinion on the color orange. The days where he called you in his office to hand him things within two inches of his grasp, were the worst. 

You remained a champ, however. No emotion other than content, ever showed up on your face. Some would say your great indifference towards him, is what drew him in. But your beauty, and brilliance certainly didn’t hurt. You were a jack of all trades, that never failed to impress. 

As time went on, Tony’s feelings for you gradually shifted into something more. You both now had months of working closely together for him to realize he was hopelessly in love with you. He hung on to your every word. Valued, your every opinion. Did any, and everything just to accomplish what he thought would please you. Still it seemed nothing worked.

On the brink of giving up, Tony found himself drifting towards the break room where you currently resided. He had been laying it on thick that morning with his clever sexually charged suggestions. He felt like an ass for pursuing a woman who didn’t want him. He just couldn’t believe that the one person he actually wanted didn’t want him back. So, he felt the urge to apologize to you profusely, before he heard you mentioning his name. 

“…and Stark is pretty amazing. Excruciatingly sexy. I really like him.” You admitted into the phone, sighing for a moment before continuing. “But I know we wouldn’t work out. No, I’m not gonna just ‘fuck him…’” You continued your conversation with the unknown caller, but Tony tuned you out after hearing you say you had no faith in your non-existent relationship with him.

No, he thought. I won’t accept it. He refused to let you throw away a chance at something great. 

Come 6:30 pm, well past the end of the workday, you both found yourselves leaving for the elevator. You always left at the same time as him, to avoid the off chance of him needing something long after you were gone. 

You, who were always very perceptive of your environment, immediately took notice of your boss’ unusually quiet demeanor. However, you said nothing, as you both descended from the top floor of the Stark Tower. 

When you first entered the elevator, he took to the opposite side of you, arms crossed as he leaned against its railing, while you stood in front of its panel. You stole occasional glances, and each time you noticed him observing you. He didn’t even try to hide that fact. You dropped a few floors before the silence began to consume you. 

You swiped your tongue over your lip swiftly, before speaking. “Good evening Mr. Stark.” You greeted, offering a tight smile.

“Good evening.” He uttered, as his dark brown orbs remained trained on you. 

“What are your plans for dinner tonight?” You asked, just to spark a conversation. 

“Why? Are you offering?” He flirted, quirking his brow and lips for a split second. 

“I’m craving a seafood pasta.” You informed him, completely ignoring his suggestion. 

“Why won’t you give me a chance.” He questioned.

“I haven’t had pasta in a while now.” You said smiling, turning to meet his eyes. When they read to you dourness, you dropped your grin. He was not in the mood for your usual elusive dance. 

“I know you have feelings for me, Y/N.” He started. “I heard you admit it today.”

You thought about when he could have possibly heard you say that, until you remembered your phone call with Natasha. Eyes now wide in alarm, you asked “You were eavesdropping on me?”

“Why don’t you think we’ll work out?” Tony asked, trying to mask the vulnerability in his voice. He usually did a great job at hiding his emotions, but you proved to be a challenge. He could never read you, but you never failed at reading him.

You still had a few floors to get through, and you knew you couldn’t avoid your way through this one. Besides, avoiding only worked when Tony thought you were uninterested. You inspected him for a moment, before you gave him your explanation. You felt you at least owed him that. 

“Mr. Stark, I do like you. A lot, actually. But I prefer to keep my business separate from my pleasure, whereas you don’t mind blurring those lines.” You looked as if you were about to continue, but Tony jumped the gun before you could. 

“Y/N, with all due respect, if we began dating I’d just fire you.” Tony said with a surprising seriousness, causing you to breathe out a laugh. He lit up when he heard the sound. 

“No.” Is all you simply said, small grin still plastered on your features.

“Okay, but it can’t just be about working here. You’re brilliant, and you practically run this company. If I were to let you oversee a different division, you wouldn’t be directly under me—”

“I wouldn’t want you to do that, just because you like me.” You interrupted. 

“But I wouldn’t.” He told you. “That would be a terrible business move. I would do it, because you genuinely deserve it. All feelings aside.” 

The look you read in his eyes, was vastly different from the ones you had seen before. Yes you saw his look of longing, his look of desire, and of lust. But this one revealed his sincerity. He had nothing to gain. 

Dropping your head down, you found yourself feeling guilty for some reason. “Mr. Stark—”

“Tony.” He interrupted. 

“Mr. Stark,” You corrected, ignoring his look of disappointment. Getting on a first name basis could mean becoming too close. “You’re right: it isn’t just about business for me. If that were the case, i’d just find another job.” You began gnawing at your lip, something you often did when you got nervous. “Its about a secret I have.”

“I love secrets.” Tony chuckled. 

“Well you won’t like this one.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Its actually quite embarrassing.”

“Just tell me. I won’t judge you” Tony guaranteed. 

Before you could start your sentence, the elevator chimed, signaling you that you have reached the first floor.

You couldn’t make a move, before Tony crossed to your side of the elevator. It felt like time slowed when his scent and proximity enveloped you. An inviting smokey aroma, and a hint of black coffee, invaded your senses, sending your mind into a frenzy for a short moment. Then it all stopped almost as soon as it started. He was back to his side of the box. You wondered what that was all about, until you felt the lift move again. When you looked at the panel, about 15 buttons were lit up.

“Are you out of your fucking mind Stark?” You shrieked. 

“You have that effect on me.” He casually replied. 

“What is your problem?” You cried.

“You.” He answered.

“This isn’t a joke, why would you do that?”

“So you could tell me your secret.” He looked at you as if you were being absurd. 

“I would have told you just fine outside of the elevator.”

“So we could be alone together.” He said stepping closer once more.

“I’m your personal assistant. We’re always alone together.”

“So I could do this.” Swifter than his earlier movements, Tony was on you in an instant. He cupped your cheeks so he could meet your lips with his. The kiss felt like you had done it before. It felt like his lips were made for kissing yours. He didn’t even have to gauge what he thought you liked, he just knew. He knew your lips would bend to his will. He knew your tongue would be submissive to his. He even knew, your small hands would find their home around his neck. 

Turning his head ever so slightly to deepen the connection, his tongue darted inside your mouth, tangling with yours. Your hands each went into their own directions; one traveled the side of his face, while the other journeyed across the expanse of his shoulder.  

His hands took a trip of their own. While one remained fastened to your jaw, the other took a tour along the length of your body, taking note of every reaction, excited to learn your person. You moaned when he reached the middle of your back—the action sending tingles up your spine, as he pulled you closer to him. Relishing in the mewl, Tony caressed the area, willing more sounds like the previous one. 

Before he could explore you more, you unwillingly broke the connection. Both of you gasping for air, Tony wanted to be the first to speak. His pupils were now blown and his lips a darker shade of pink. He steadied himself, by placing a hand on the wall beside your head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay” you assured, trying to catch your breath. 

“No. I should of asked.” Bringing the hand that was on your cheek slightly down to your lips, he brushed the area with his thumb, spreading the wetness into the skin. He leaned in for a calmer kiss, capturing your bottom lip between his , sucking softly before letting it go. “What was your secret?” He rasped. 

You were so lost in his eyes, you were barely able to comprehend his words, let alone that he asked a question. “What?” You exhaled, shaking your head slightly in wonderment. You were still surprised a mere kiss could get you so shaken. 

Tony pulled away from you, grasping the railing behind your back, caging you into one place. “I asked, what was your secret.” He smirked, happy to finally be the one making you disoriented. 

“Oh! My secret!” You yapped, at the sudden recollection. So caught up in him, you forgot why you shouldn’t be. Collecting yourself, as well as your thoughts, you braced yourself for his reaction. Breathing in a deep breath of air you blurted “I don’t sleep with people I like” shutting your eyes as soon as you uttered the words. 

Tony stood upright after a moment, dropping his hands, confused more than upset, though you expected him to be the latter. “What do you mean?” He asked. 

You furrowed your brows and gazed up to gauge his expression, before continuing. “I mean if I really like a person, I won’t sleep with them.”

“Wouldn’t you rather sleep with a person you like, than one you don’t?” He questioned. 

“Well, yeah.” You stood up straight, and hung your head down. He almost made you feel silly. “But, um. Well…I haven’t had the best luck with my previous relationships. The eagerness to have sex seemed to be the common denominator. So I promised myself I’d wait until I knew I really liked the person and they liked me. The only problem with that, is that it seems no man wants to date a woman who’s practicing abstinence.” 

“And you haven’t given me a chance, because you assume I’d be one of those men.” Tony presumed. 

You let out a playful scoff. “Assume? I know for a fact you’d be.” 

“What gives you that idea?”

“I know how you are with women.” 

“How am I with women, Y/N?” He dared, awaiting an answer that he could explain away.

“Oh. Are we doing this?” You dared back, raising a brow and a smirk. He nodded matching your sneer. “Just this morning, you asked me why I was a bit groggy. I told you, it was because I lost a few hours of sleep. And do you know what you told me? If I ever want to lose a few more, I should consider losing them with you.”

His eyes formed into thin slits and he pressed his lips in a firm line, cringing at his own words. “Y/N” he started, as he repeated a tsk noise with his mouth. “Sweetheart, I was merely suggesting that I could keep you busy, by putting those lost hours to good use.” 

“And how would you put them to use, Mr. Stark?” You purred, crooking your head to look at him through hooded eyes, and small smug grin. 

“Um…” He pondered, trying to avoid answering “with sex” like he normally would. 

“That’s what I thought.” You whispered. You were a little disappointed to know, that he only wanted you in the way every man wanted you. By this point, the elevator reached the first floor again, but this time you were prepared. Taking advantage of his distracted state, you  slipped through the doors. But Tony wasn’t through with you yet. 

You felt his fingers wrap around your wrist. When you snapped your neck around to his direction, he spoke. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this or not, but I’ve been pining after you for months now.” He explained, relieving his grasp on you once he was comfortable that you wouldn’t leave. “Most women throw themselves at me. And it isn’t very hard to seduce the ones who don’t. This means, that besides you, I could have practically any one I want.”

You violently rolled your eyes and blew air threw your nostrils, “And your point is, Stark?” Your hands were now glued to your hips in annoyance. 

“My point is, that I don’t want any other woman. I want you. And yes, I wanna sleep with you, but I also wanna sleep with you.” He exaggerated his words, putting emphasis on ‘sleep’ the second time around. 

You contorted your face into disgust. “Okay I get it, you really wanna sleep with me.” 

“No! Fuck.” He palmed his face in frustration, dragging the hand down slowly to gather his thoughts. “I’m explaining this all wrong. I’m trying to say, I wanna hold you through the night. I wanna wake up and you’re there. I wanna make you smile, and I wanna make you laugh. I would spoil you rotten if you gave me the chance. If I didn’t make myself clear before, I will now: I want you, Y/N. And I know you must think of me as some arrogant son of a bitch, who only wants what’s between those legs” He let his eyes flicker down to your legs, lingering there for a moment before gazing back up to you. “But give me the opportunity to show you that I want so much more.”

He left you breathless moments before in the elevator, and speechless now. “Mr. Stark, I—”

“Tony. Please say my name.” He pleaded, his almond eyes piercing into your soul. It was rare for you to look so vulnerable. You have perfected masking your emotions. So he drank your vulnerability in while he could. 

“Tony.” You said tenderly, tasting the word on your tongue for what felt like the first time. He also took pleasure in hearing you say it. You remained formal to his face your entire relationship, so it felt like you were both reintroducing yourselves all over again. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything. Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night. I can—wait no, I will get you the best damn pasta, you’ve ever tasted.” He smiled, when you chuckled. “We will spend the night, getting to know each other a bit more. Then, I’ll walk you home, instead of driving, so that we can take in the city. When we get to your place, I’ll give you a kiss goodnight like the perfect gentleman I am. And then I’ll turn around and go home, to think about you until the next time we see each other.” He promised. 

You were in awe at the thought, but were still unsure. “I don’t know.” You answered, averting your gaze from his. You knew that he was a player, and you were afraid he’d hurt you. What if this is all some elaborate plan to get inside my panties? You thought. 

Tony grabbed your hands, bringing both of them up between the two of you, willing you to look at him. “Please give me a chance.” He begged, silently pleading with his eyes. 

And you, seriously thought about what the harm could be. If he ignored your wishes, then he wasn’t the one. Simple as that. So you said yes to his dinner proposal. 

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

He almost lost all of his composure, when you stepped out of your apartment in the little black crushed velvet dress that hugged your curves in just the right way. You paired it with black wedge heels, that made your delicious brown legs look like they went on for miles. Your hair was done up strategically so, to accentuate your appetizing neckline, and the dark red matte lipstick you wore made your lips look sultry. It was very obvious that you were purposefully trying to test him. But to your happy dismay, he was everything he said he would be.

You had your first date on his private yacht, that overlooked the city. While you could still see New York, you were out far enough to where you could also view the stars. You lived in the city your entire life, and had only ever seen them once or twice. Already, on your first night together it felt like he was spoiling you.

He ordered the most expensive wine for the table, consuming an entire cupful in one gulp, when he watched you wrap your lips around your glass just to stain it with red lipstick. He wished it was his skin instead. He meant it when he told you, sex wasn’t everything, but damn it, that didn’t mean he didn’t want you screaming his name. Still he promised to be the perfect gentlemen, and that’s exactly what he was. 

After ordering you the best damn pasta you ever tasted, you competed with each other, almost as if you were trying to see who could find out the most about the other. He saw an entirely new side of you. You were usually so secretive about your private life before, so he took advantage of the newfound courage the wine gave you. You were also happy to see his more carefree side. He was always carefree, but his usual happy-go-lucky spirit was paired with a suffocating arrogance that never failed to annoy you. This one was genuine, and it was because he no longer had to worry about whether or not you wanted him.

After dinner, he instructed his driver to take you both over halfway back to your place, before you walked the rest. It was about a fifteen minute trek to your apartment, and he took advantage of every second. Every one of them was fleeting, as he fell more and more in love with you. He learned of your interests. Of your desires. Of your fears that came from dating. When you were finished talking, he urged you to continue, dying to know more about the woman who captured his heart. You wanted to know more about him too, but Tony suggested another date in order to satisfy your interests in him. You smiled, at hearing him propose another outing before your first one was even over. 

When you reached your door, he wasted no time in placing his hands along your hips to pull you in for a kiss. This one was less feverish than the one you shared in the lift, but it still conveyed how much he longed for you. He took his time, as he moved his mouth against yours, tongue swiping against your bottom lip, begging for your permission to enter. You granted it, and like before he explored you with his tongue. He didn’t back away very far, in fact he didn’t back away at all. Instead, he let his lips slightly brush across the area that connected your cheek to your ear, whispering a “Goodnight, Y/N” Before dropping his hands, and turning to leave. 

He left you hot and bothered, as you stood outside your door watching him walk away. This is gonna be so fucking hard, you thought. 

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

Your relationship began almost immediately after that night. He wanted to make you wait until the following Monday before speaking with you again, but you refused to wait that long. Tony being older preferred talking on the phone, instead of texting, despite being a tech genius. When you contacted him through iMessage to ensure he got home safely, he called you immediately to tease you for worrying about him. After you brushed him off, you spent the entire night talking to each other, falling asleep to the sound of the others voice.

He sent flowers to your doorstep, the following Monday after your date. It just sort of became a tradition after that. Sometimes they’d get delivered to your apartment, other days to the office (he loved to see your smile, when you’d find them on your desk). Each time they’d be a different kind with a note attached to them that expressed their meaning. Under the meaning would be a message from Tony himself. Sometimes the messages were cheesy, and other times very heartfelt.

The first bouquet was filled with pink peonies, that according to Tony represented romance and good fortune. They were his attempt at welcoming the success of your new relationship. He even said so in his inscription to you. ‘To the beginning of something beautiful’, he wished. 

After your second date, he sent you yellow pansies, that meant he was thinking of you. In that inscription he begged you to ‘Please slow down, when you race through my mind’. The fifth date, was followed by honeysuckles. They declared his devoted affections to you. Their inscriptions insured that you were the only girl on his brain. 

By the time your seventh date came, asters were his flowers of choice. Patience, was all the card said. He sent those after the first night you spent together at his place. You couldn’t keep your hands off of him.

After the date ended, and he took you home, you barely even gave him the chance to unlock and open the door before you were dragging him towards the nearest couch. You shoved him down on it when you reached it, throwing your thighs on either side of his, before devouring his lips. Rocking your hips against his, you consumed his growls of pleasure. He planted his fingertips in you thighs, slowly inching them upwards towards the hem of your dress. You left sweet pecks along his jaw, before decorating his neck with colorful bruises. 

“Y/N, stop.” Tony ordered through gritted teeth. He felt his dick hardening beneath your movements, but you didn’t listen. Instead, you sucked, nipped, and licked at his skin, dragging your teeth over his throat. When you reached a particularly sensitive spot, he bucked his groin into yours, releasing a nasty groan that sounded like pure sex. Like a flash of lightening, his hands were on your hips, removing them from his as he placed you on the seat next to him. Your legs still dangled over his lap, and you looked at him with a wounded expression that was mixed with confusion. 

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want me?” You asked, adjusting your dress, now feeling very insecure.

Tony was busy adjusting himself too (his pants felt tighter than usual), before he snapped his neck to question you. “What? Of course I want you. Doesn’t it feel like I want you?” He questioned, gesturing towards his prominent bulge. Your look of bewilderment turned into a smug smile as you took note of how big it seemed. “I just want to respect your wishes.” He added, smiling at your expression.

“But, I know how you feel about me now.” You assured him, leaning in for his neck again. He gripped your wrist when your hand traveled towards his zipper. He placed it near your side, before speaking.

“I wanna make sure our first time is perfect. Don’t you think you deserve that?” He asked. You had changed him. The Tony from a year ago would have ravaged you the second you asked him. But this one wanted to make sure there wasn’t a doubt in your mind before you slept together.

“Tony, I don’t care about perfect, I want you now.” You stated, leaning in once again to tongue your name into his skin. He cupped your face firmly with the hand that was on your jaw, beckoning you to stop and look at him.

“Be patient, princess.” He whispered, placing a peck on your lips. 

You began to pout, as you threw your legs off of his to sit properly on the couch. You let the cushions swallow you, as you wore your disappointment in your face. Tony chuckled darkly at the sight before him, enjoying how cute you were being. He tucked his leg under the other to turn his attention fully around to you, letting his palm catch his chin as his elbow lay propped against the back of the couch. 

“Y/N,” He cooed, when you remained focused on the nothingness in the distance. “Y/N,” he purred again, yet still he was met with silence as you trained your eyes on the air around you. When he reached to palm the inside of your thigh, he felt you tense up. He traced love notes against the exposed skin, dropping his free hand down to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. He lightly connected his lips to the shell of said ear, before he spoke. 

“Just know, that when I finally do get my hands on you,” He paused to grip the inside of your thigh, parting your legs slightly before continuing, “I’m not gonna stop until your legs are shaking.” He promised. And with that, he pulled away excusing himself from the room, while you released a shaky breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. 

There were plenty of nights like that one. Your favorite ways to relieve some of the sexual tension were, heavy make-out sessions, risky cuddling, and phone sex. You heard each other’s pants and moans before you would even see the other naked. 

Taking your mind off of sex seemed to be the best solution, however. You were still eager to do it, but Tony took your original idea of abstinence and ran with it. He would never admit to you that you hurt him when you assumed he just wanted to get in your pants. He really liked you, and he was gonna make sure you knew it. That being said, you both did any and everything to keep your minds off of what the other looked like without clothes on. 

You both loved to spoil each other. He was the mastermind behind your more extravagant dates, but you orchestrated your more low-key outings. He would always argue that they were better than any he could have ever thought of, but you would debate the opposite. 

Picnics in open fields, ice skating in central park, even camping in the woods were places Tony made happy memories with you. 

Six months passed since you two got together, and your apartment looked like a floral shop due to the amount of flowers he delivered to you. You desperately fought to preserve them. Though most would die, you saved the ones that wouldn’t, framing them with the notes he sent to you. 

You found red tulips one afternoon after work. You found it very odd, since he always sent you flowers after a date, instead of before one. He always sent them after, to relay his thoughts about how you made him feel. There was no flower meaning under the tulips, just a note from him saying, ‘For a very special woman, and a very special evening’.

He always said things similar to the message above, so while you smiled and held the note and flowers close, you thought nothing of it as you prepared for your six month anniversary.

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

“This is where we had our first date!” You beamed, sitting down in the chair as Tony pulled it out for you. He had you blindfolded on the ride there, but as soon as you smelled the sea, heard the seagulls, and felt your heels click against the boardwalk, you put two and two together on where you were. 

“Sure is.” He smiled, as he took the seat in front of you. The warm candle light, instantly lit up his face. He was always clean-cut and prided himself in his attire, but you couldn’t help but notice he was more dressed up for this occasion.

  “It’s still just as beautiful as ever.” You cried, head moving from side to side every so often because you couldn’t decide on which was prettier; the heavens or NY’s silhouette. 

“And this is the part where I say, ‘it could never be as beautiful as you, dear.’” Tony cooed, only half-serious.

“Even your cheesy lines couldn’t ruin tonight.” You joked.

“Oh baby, I wouldn’t think about ruining tonight. It is our six month anniversary after all.”  

“It is? Has it really been that long?” You asked, feigning ignorance. 

“Ouch. Y/N, that stings.” He winced, mocking hurt.

“I’m sorry Tony, I guess I lose track of time when I’m with you.” You purred.

“And you call me cheesy.” He mumbled, cheeks sporting a tint of pink. You couldn’t tell if it was from the cool night’s air, or your comments. 

You chose to ignore it. “Wait, so is that why you sent me those tulips? They were beautiful.”

“Yes it is.” He replied. 

“You didn’t include their meaning. Could it be you’re running out of ideas? That would explain why you took me back to the yacht.” You teased. 

He scoffed at you. “I could never run out of ideas. I’ll take you around the world, as soon as I know you’re willing to let me.”

His words left you confused. “Wha—” 

You interrupted yourself when you heard the sound of soft music. You looked over to see that a lady dressed in white had taken her place in front of a harp. She was playing a gentle melody, when a man with a violin sat down beside her. They played their music so beautifully, it would have made angels weep.

“This is amazing…but where the hell did they come from?” You questioned, making Tony chuckle.

“Oh I keep ‘em under the ship. I only feed ‘em on occasion so they know to come back to me.”

“Okay smart-ass.” You laughed, leaning over to grasp his hand. You thought he seemed tense on the ride here and now. He wasn’t his usual chatty self, and only threw jokes here and there. You stroked the back of his hand with your thumb, and took your other hand to rub circles in his palm, something you learned that eased his nerves. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing. I just want tonight to be perfect.”

“Why?”

“Well because…” He paused for a moment, breaking his eyes from yours. “Shit, well maybe this will help me say what I want to say.” He gestured towards someone with a “come here” hand motion, and not a minute later a huge bouquet of roses got placed in front of you.

Your eyes were wide in wonder as you tried to comprehend the meaning of it. “Tony, this has to be over 100 flowers!”

“108 to be exact.”

“108?! I don’t think my apartment can withstand any more of these!”

“If tonight goes well, that will no longer be a problem.”

You didn’t hear what he said, as you were busy searching the roses in awe. Tony had sent you every flower in the book, but never roses. They were the symbol most known for someone who was in love, or falling in it, yet he never gave them to you. You searched the bouquet for a note but found nothing. “The tulips had no message either. I have to say, as much as I tease you for writing them, I always look forward to what you have to say.” You confessed to him, thinking you had shamed him into hiding his words.

“What I want to say, should be said in person, rather than on a notecard. The tulips stand for love.” He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I have fallen, so deeply in love with you, I can’t even find myself. But if I’m being honest Y/N, I don’t really want to.”

“Tony.” You gasped, heart beating a mile a minute. 

“Please let me finish. I’m so nervous, I could choke.” He was sweating bullets, despite the cold night’s air. You grasped both his hands with yours, gazing into his eyes as he spoke, urging him to continue which only seemed to make him more timid. In an attempt to pull away, he spilled his water on your dress. The cold liquid made you jump up, causing the table in front of you to flip over. Bread, glasses, and candles littered the floor, and your servers were running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Tony threw cloth at the ground, as he tried to extinguish the candle fire before it got out of control. “I’m so sorry baby! Oh fuck, I ruined everything.”

“No, no, no, no, no! I’m the one who started the fire. But Tony, look: the flames are out, the view is still perfect, and the roses are still in tact.” You said, picking up the flowers as you tried to make light of the situation. You caused him to laugh, which eased his nerves a bit. 

“The roses.” He sighed. “These little sons of bitches were supposed to make this situation easier.”

“What is so hard about saying I love you. I’ve wanted to say it to you for a while now, I just never had the guts.” You told him blushing a bit. Changing the subject, you said, “You certainly didn’t need 108 roses to tell me. Why that specific number anyway?”

He now felt confident in hearing you say you loved him too. “I’m surprised you waited this long to ask me. It means,” He paused, to get down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

He could read the surprise in your features, as he took the roses from your hand. He pulled the middle rose out of the bouquet to reveal a ring tucked discreetly around its stem, thorns, and leaves. A beautiful Champagne colored diamond, sat between his fingers as he searched your eyes for answers.

“Yes!” You breathed out, dropping to your knees to throw your arms around his neck. You were teary eyed, as you kissed his cheeks. 

This night, on your six month anniversary, you expected Tony to finally make a move in bed. Instead, he left you happier than you could have ever imagined as his fiancé. 

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

4 months later. 

You were originally gonna get married two months after his proposal, but the girls felt that wasn’t enough time to plan your fairytale dream. While Okoye and Natasha gave Tony a run for his money planning the wedding and honeymoon, Wanda and Nakia helped calm your pre-wedding jitters. 

Nat and Tony were constantly at each other’s throats about how things should go. Where she wanted simple and elegant, he wanted flamboyant and extravagant. She was constantly trying to cater to your style and aesthetic, while Tony wanted things to be over-the-top perfect for you in order to make your night one to remember forever. Okoye mostly stayed out of the planning. She only went along with the two to threaten Tony every minute about treating you right. “Be good to her. Or I’ll kill you.” She whispered to him as you guys went cake-tasting. “If you hurt her, I’ll slit your throat.” She smiled to him, while venue-picking. It was safe to say, he hated your friends, but one thing they all had in common was their love for you. 

You couldn’t stand being around those three when they were in a room together. They wouldn’t let you lay a finger on the planning anyway, so Tony asked Nakia to keep you happy. As his wedding gift to you, he treated you all to a pampering fit for queens. Nakia was in charge of the bridal shower, spas, hair salons, photoshoots, etc., all courtesy to Tony. These were all the ways you occupied yourself before the wedding.

The night of your bachelorette party was one of your fondest memories. You and your friends got black-out drunk as you laughed, teased, and cried with each other. 

“Here’s to Y/N, on marrying the moesinsufabullbasterd on planet earth” Natasha slurred, raising (and spilling) a martini. You assumed she was trying to say the “most insufferable bastard”, but it came out in jumbles instead. 

Hiccup. “Heeesna thaa bahd.” You slurred back, playfully shoving the girl. Your words were just as incoherent as hers. 

Your response caused Okoye to erupt in laughter, before her head promptly slammed onto the table for the rest of the night. She was now alongside Val and Carol who had both passed out within the first hour. Whenever those two got together they always drank like monsters. 

Wanda who was rocking back and forth, looked at you suddenly and began to weep. For the eighth time tonight. “My baby’s getting married.” You were trying to hold it together, but her tears caused you and Nat to explode. You were three sniveling women, holding each other close as you guys bawled in your booth.

Nakia, the only one who could hold her alcohol, was done with everyone’s shit so she shushed you all. “Enough. I have gifts to exchange.” While Natasha and Wanda continued weeping, Nakia grabbed your shoulders, and beckoned you to pay attention. “Y/N, I know you’re hanging on by a thread here, but you need to listen very closely. I am going to teach you to please a man.”

Hiccup. “Nakiaaaaaa, I’m not a virgin silly.” You affirmed, slapping her bare arm.

“I know. But you haven’t been with another person in over a year.”

It was true. You and Tony have been a couple for exactly one year. Its been over 365 days since the two of you had even been laid. You still hadn’t even touched each other. You see, it was Tony’s bright idea to suggest waiting until you were married. He had played the waiting game long enough, so he thought why not? “This will make the event even more special.” He said to you, and to himself.

Little did he know, he would regret it. He didn’t anticipate the wait to be this long. You no longer cared about it as much as you thought you would. You were too busy worrying about the big day. But it was all that Tony could think about. He was on the verge of being feral the closer your special night approached. 

“We have to get you prepared.” Nakia continued. “That is why I brung these.” It was then that she handed you her gift bag. You looked inside to find, a dildo, vibrator, blindfold, handcuffs, etc. There were things ranging from special pills to make you wetter, to anal beads. Everything was a toy, or something related to sex. The bag was filled to the brim. You didn’t know why you were so surprised: Nakia was always the more kinky friend. 

“No, Nakia!” You yapped, a little embarrassed. You were horrified. “I’ll know how to make him happy.” You slid the bag across the table, but Nakia slid it back. 

“Well these will help you if you want to spice things up.”  

You slid it back again. “No thank you.”

“I insist.” She said, sliding it back once again. You guys played that game for a while, but you were so drunk you could play it all night.

“Fine, you stubborn child!” She joked, finally conceding. “But don’t come crying to me when you find yourself clamming up in your suite’s bathroom.” Though she was joking, you couldn’t help but find yourself growing anxious. 

What if you weren’t enough for him? What if after all this time, you didn’t live up to his standards? He had been waiting so long for this, what if he expected your first time to be beyond amazing? What if you couldn’t give him that?

You thought about Tony, who was having a bachelor party of his own with Sam, Bruce, Clint, Thor, Bucky and Steve, and you wondered if they were having a conversation about the honeymoon too. You thought about how his friends were probably teasing him about how wild you were gonna be, since you’ve been sex-deprived for so long. Was he gonna still love you if you weren’t?

You pushed those thoughts to the back of your head, and tried to enjoy the rest of the evening. You looked up and waved to the bartender, shouting “Can we have another round?”

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

The ceremony was wonderful, the reception even more so. You had the time of your life, with the people you loved, while they watched you marry the man you loved. Natasha and Tony found a middle-ground to make the day both extravagant and elegant. It was a dream. 

But as soon it was all over, your mind drifted towards the honeymoon. The two of you were finally welcoming the world for the first time as a married couple. 

“Y/N Stark. Mrs. Tony Stark. Mrs. Anthony Edward Stark. Mrs. Y/N Stark.” You practiced to yourself. You repeated his name, which was now yours, over and over in various ways, as you guys sat on his private jet. You would think you were on the brink of driving Tony insane, but he’d be a liar if he said he didnt find it cute. “Why yes, I am Y/N, but you can call me Mrs. Stark. AHH, Tony I’m so excited!” You cheered, slapping his arm repeatedly out of elation. Your outburst, startled him from his newspaper. He had managed to tune out your rambles for most of the flight, but little moments like these were hard to ignore. 

“Christ, sweetheart. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were happier with my name, than you are with me.” He laughed, rubbing his arm. 

“It’s not that. I’m just excited!” You beamed. “We’re married! I have your last name.” Suddenly, you leaned into him, willing him to meet you halfway so you could whisper into his ear. When Tony lowered his head to humor you, you said. “Hey…Between you and me: I could kiss the next person who calls me Mrs. Stark.” You confessed, slumping back down into your plane seat to daydream some more. 

Tony looked at nothing for a second before repeating your gestures from earlier that willed you to lean closer. When you leaned back in, he whispered, “I wouldn’t get that excited, dear. Those lips belong to me now.” He teased, slumping back down before saying, “Mrs. Stark.” He winked as he said the words. 

“Eek!” You shrilled, as soon as the words left his lips. You threw yourself over the arm of your seat to place wet smooches all over the side of his face. Tony sat still, closing his eyes as he basked in them all. He looked at you confused when you suddenly ceased your actions. 

“Hey, who told you to stop.” He asked, but your attention was on something else. Snapping his fingers in your face he gave up when he lost to whatever held your gaze. 

With eyes full of wonder you said, “Wow! This is gorgeous!” You were gaping the moment the clouds revealed the beautiful island of Kauai. Like the wedding, your honeymoon was a complete surprise, which meant you had no idea where he was taking you. “Look at that view!” You gasped, as you admired the clear blue waters, trees, and mountains. 

This was gonna be one trip to remember.

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

“Damn!” You sounded, as soon as he opened the doors to your vacation home. “You’ve really outdone yourself, Stark. This is beautiful.” You felt like you said those words in your one year relationship with Tony, more than you have in your entire life. 

“Honestly baby, when are you gonna stop being so surprised.” Tony questioned as he tipped the driver, who also helped lug your bags up. He shut the doors and spun around on his feet to find you admiring the view in amazement. Taking slow strides across the room to meet you, he wrapped his hands around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your dress slid up slightly as he pressed his front against your back. Traveling hands turned into curious ones as they smoothed themselves over the expanse of your thighs through your dress’ thin material. 

You felt his hardening member poking your lower back. “Woah! Someone’s excited to meet me.” You chuckled, neck heating up. 

“Try dying.” He responded, squeezing your upper waist before traveling down your stomach. 

“Do you really wanna do this here?” You asked gasping, when you felt his feather light kisses on your neck develop into nips and licks. 

He gripped your waist a little tighter before rasping, “I wanna do it in every room of this house, but yea we can start here.” 

“Tony, quit it. We have so much to do!” You whined, dropping his hands, to skitter away, leaving him in that exact position. Heat burning in your loins, you ignored it to grab your bags from the door. You dragged your luggage to the master bedroom, as you ignored his stalk towards you. Tony, who was hot on your trail, threw himself down on the bed in front of you, laying in a silly, yet seductive, pose. 

You playfully scoffed at his antics. Crossing the room back and forth, to place clothes in your wardrobe, you asked him,“So what’s on the agenda first? The aquarium, bike-riding, snorkeling? Ooo! Should we go hiking?”

He pondered for a moment, placing a finger to his chin to simulate deep-thinking. “Well actually, I was thinking maybe we could break the bed in first.” He suggested, a devilish grin plastered on his features. 

You chucked a pair of rolled up summer pants at him, which landed on his face, dropping to expose his stoic expression. “No! You promised we would do some fun activities when we got here!”

“That is a fun activity. Why go bike riding out in the summer’s heat, when you could ride me right here while in the comfort of your own home?”

“Ugh! You promised!” You giggled, stomping a foot for dramatic purposes. “Besides, you’re the one who said, we should wait until our wedding night. It’s not even 10:00 am.”

“If you actually listened to me, I said, and I quote, ‘Let’s wait until we’re married.’” Tony clarified, sitting up to pull you between his legs, “And now we’re married.” 

You gazed down at him with a stern look that read ‘I’m going to win this’. He gazed back, matching your features, as if to say the same. The both of you were trying to see who would break first. “I don’t have time for this.” You declared after a moment. Tony just sighed as a reply, dropping his head on the mattress. 

  You elected to ignore him, and went back to unpacking, but yelped when you came across something surprising. Tony, who was busy playing with a pair of your panties, didn’t notice what surprised you, but couldn’t help but notice your squeal. 

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, trying to peek at whatever you were hiding under the shirt in your suitcase. 

“Nothing.” You lied, in a sweet tone. He saw right through it though, and began to pry your fingers away. Revealing his findings, he was happy to see the plethora of toys in your suitcase. Nakia couldn’t fit all that she bought you, but what she did manage to slip in while you weren’t paying attention, was more than enough for Tony to work with.

“Woah, woah, woah! Look at what we have here.” Tony gleamed, marveling at a pair of furry black handcuffs. His face was as bright as the day he met you. You were blushing furiously, when he came across a small pink vibrator. “Y/N, you are such naughty girl.” He teased.  

You immediately tried explaining yourself. “I didn’t put that stuff in there. Nakia must of snuck it in while I—”

“Thank you Nakia. I always knew I liked her more than all of your other friends.” Tony joked interrupting you. Then, his eyes lit up when they set upon a pair of interesting looking underwear. His shit-eating grin, turned into a wicked one as he thought about a clever idea. 

“Here’s the deal.” He started

“No, to whatever it is, Stark.” You interrupted before he could propose a stream of bullshit. 

“Come on. At least hear me out.”

“What is it?” You sighed, supposing you could humor him. 

“If you wear these, I’ll go anywhere you want.” He pulled a pair of lacy black panties from the suitcase. They looked harmless enough, until you saw something bulky protruding from their seat.

“Are those, what I think they are?” You asked. Your friend was seriously a fiend. 

“Yup.” Tony said, popping his lips as he said the word. A small smile, took over his lips, as he eyed you. He taunted you with those smug brown eyes. 

You eyed him back, mouth agape, as you thought carefully. You knew he didn’t peg you for taking many risks, but you wanted to wipe that smug expression right off his face. “Anywhere I want?” 

“Anywhere you want.” He mimicked in a promising tone. 

“Fine.” 

“Fine.” He mimicked again, in disbelief that you actually agreed, but he let his face convey that same smug expression. “Well princess, what are you waiting for?” He asked, dangling the pair of lace on his pointer finger for you to take. 

You decided that if he was gonna play games, you’d at least try to play them better. “Put them on for me.”

It was then that Tony’s grin dropped. His eyes that already danced with lust, turned a darker shade of brown. “What?” He asked, voice a tinge huskier than before. 

“Put. Them. On. For me.” You reiterated, speaking slower. Your smile was the smug one this time. You steadied yourself between his legs again, placing your hands firmly against his shoulders. 

Tony placed his tongue between his cheek before his eyes formed into thin slits. Then his face went blank, save his eyes that still burned with passion. 

Without taking the brown orbs away from yours, he took his time dragging his hands up your legs and to your thighs. He admired the supple skin beneath his touch, as they came dangerously close to your heat. 

You were beginning to regret your teasing, when he dug his fingers in the elastic of your waistband, and tugged the flimsy material down. You stepped out of them, suddenly feeling bare as he tossed your underwear to the side. This, was the closest you had ever come to being naked in front of him. He then slipped the vibrating panties around your feet, brung them up your thighs, and stretched the material until it released with a snap that stung and burned your skin. The action made you whimper, and that brung a smile back to Tony’s otherwise unreadable face. 

He then placed the black remote that controlled the panties into his front pocket. “You’re gonna regret teasing me like that.” He warned playfully. But you believed him. 

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

This is a fucking game to him, You thought as you sat down for drinks. Tony was playing with that damned remote everywhere you went. He pressed it when you guys went to the aquarium. He pressed it when you went sight-seeing. He pressed it while you were on your famous attraction tour. And now, he was currently pressing it while you suffered silently.

Everything, was cut short to less than forty minutes. Everything. But you figured that was his point. The faster you guys got this over with, the faster he could get you back home. Of course he didn’t want to ruin your honeymoon, but at the same time he knew you guys would be here for a week, which gave you plenty of time to complete everything on the itinerary. And if you didn’t have enough time, he could schedule to stay longer. 

Besides, it was amusing to him, watching you squirm in your seat. Watching your eyes roll to the back of your head. He loved the sight of your hardening nipples, through the thin fabric of your dress. And though he was frustrated from your earlier teasing, and was doing this to get back at you, it quickly stopped being about that when he heard your pants and whimpers. Now he was doing it, solely to get you off. However, he hadn’t let you cum yet. He just wanted to bring you to edge, and see how far he could take you before you begged him to fuck you. 

“Can we have two Mai Tai’s” You asked the waiter. Your voice went through at least two notes as you said it. Before you got there, you begged him to make the order, but he wouldn’t show you any mercy.

A worried look etched its way onto the younger man’s face. “Yes ma’am, but are you okay? Should I call a medic?”

“No!” You said a little louder than usual, hoping he couldn’t hear the low buzz of the vibrator. “Its just a slight tummy ache is all.” You lied, moaning a bit at the end. Your fists were clenched tightly above the table, as you tried to ignore what was going on beneath it. 

“Okay.” The waiter replied, worry still on his features. He shuffled away to prepare your drinks, leaving you alone with Tony. 

“Isn't this view just lovely?” Tony asked, watching the waves of the beach crash against sharp rocks and wet sand. You couldn’t help but feel like that ocean, as your dam threatened to snap for the fifth time that day. 

When you didn’t reply, he increased the remote’s level, making you buck forward in your seat, just to lower the intensity back down again. “You okay, sweetheart?” Tony asked you sweetly. The look on his face read sincerity, and if you didn’t know any better you would of thought he was being genuine.

“Bite me, Stark.” You spat. 

“If that’s what you want.” He whispered, hands slightly shaking from how turned on he was. “Whenever you want to go home, just say the word.” 

You sat up straight, glowering at him. “Oh baby I’m fine. We can still go hiking if that’s what you were worried about.”

He exhaled a dark chortle, before bringing himself closer to you. “Y/N, we can always go hiking tomorrow.” He placed his warm hand at the top of the line on your back, trailing it down your spine. “Now why don’t you let me take you back home, so I can make us both feel better.” He was currently flicking the buttons of the controller, back and forth, so that you were on edge one second, then falling back down the next. 

“Fuck you.” You bit through gritted teeth. Your face was contorted in pure ecstasy, and your thighs went back and forth between being glued together and wide open. You were usually such a good girl for him, but this teasing was bringing out a brat. Tony wasn’t having any of it.

“Okay.” Was all he said, before increasing the remote to its highest level, leaving it there to finish you off. 

An embarrassingly loud wail escaped your throat, just as your waiter was heading back with your drinks. He just stared at you in shock, cheeks a brilliant shade of red, while your mouth just hung open. Tony, the cause of it all, nonchalantly played with the straps of your dress and pieces of stray hair, unfazed your embarrassment, nor the waiter’s. 

You held your head down, took your drink to begin sipping, before you turned to him, shame and regret swallowing you. “I’m ready to go home now.” 

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

As soon as you two made it back to the house, you sprinted through the house, and flung yourself into the bedroom slamming its door shut. Tony took his time trudging in your direction, figuring you were still pissed at him. 

He knocked his head against the door, and said “Little pig, little pig, let me come in.” In a deep sing-songy voice, before jiggling the now locked door. 

You, who were indeed irked for what he pulled at the bar, yelled “Cut it out Tony. You said we could go hiking.”  

“And we can…after you let me fuck you silly.” 

“You know if we start that you won’t wanna stop.” You reminded him as you gathered your attire for the trek. 

“You have a point” He muttered. It stayed silent for a moment after that. 

Feeling as though he gave up, you began to undress before slipping into your hiking gear. As you unzipped your dress, you felt the panties begin to vibrate again. 

        Your mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape, as you took a seat atop of your bed to spread your legs. The area between your thighs was still tingly from earlier, so the feeling instantly sent you into overdrive. You were a whimpering mess in no time “Fuck, Tony please stop!” You begged. 

“I wanna hear you cum.” He rasped through the door. 

“I’m gonna take them off.” You warned, lying through your teeth. The pleasure felt too damn good. 

“Let me take em off for you, princess.” His words, along with the vibrations against your clit brung you to tears. Now away from unwanted listening ears, you let your moans rip through you as you writhed against the bed. 

“Fuck, baby this feels so good!” You whimpered, when he increased the intensity of the vibrations. Over your mewls, you heard the clinking of a belt unbuckling, shortly followed by the unmistakable sounds of his low, yet rough grunts. 

“I bet I can make you feel better.” He growled. His voice was filled with frustration, desperation, and a man-eating lust that left you drenched in your own slick.

“Oh Tony, s-shit!” You cried, voice quivering with pleasure. You felt your stomach, tighten, and your coil threaten to snap. Your walls fluttered painfully around nothing, as your head fell back. It wasn’t long after that, before your juices drenched the comforter beneath you. It was silent on the other side of the door, and you assumed he came too. Only, you couldn’t hear him trying to catch his breath like you were. It’s like he never broke a sweat. 

You got up slowly, knees a little weak from your second orgasm, to clean yourself up and continue changing. You made sure to rid yourself of those wretched panties while you were at it. 

When you finally opened the door, you were met with an unfazed Tony leaning against its frame. He looked as if nothing happened, despite bringing you to shambles a mere three minutes prior. He directed his attention towards you when you emerged from the room. “Its about time you finished getting ready, I still haven’t changed, yet.” He informed you, winking as he slipped past you.

Fucking bastard. 

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

“You okay?” Tony asked, when he saw your legs give way a bit. Your previous activities still left you a bit sensitive, and as a result: unbalanced. 

“I’m fine.” You assured him as you guys hiked towards the mountain range. The trail was actually within walking distance of your vacation home, so you didn’t need the car to journey through it. 

“Are you sure, Y/N?” Tony questioned. His demeanor now was different from his previous one. He was so sweet when he wanted to be. 

“Yes babe. Why do you ask?”

“You seem a bit clumsier than usual.”

“Well I get that way after, you know, sometimes.” You said shyly. You guys hadn’t talked about it yet. 

He formed his lips to say an inaudible “oh”. “I’m sorry. I was being a horny dick earlier. Please be careful.” When he said the words, he made sure to trail behind you. If you were to fall, he felt he could catch you before any damage was done. 

“I’m okay. And its okay.” You paused. “I forgive you, I can be a tease so its not entirely your fault. But thank you for doing this with me.” You smiled sweetly, looking over your shoulder. 

“Of course, princess.” Tony smiled back, grinning from ear to ear.

You looked back up ahead, to continue your hike. 

You guys stopped occasionally when you wanted to take pictures. Whether they were of the view, rare birds, the sea, or Tony, you clicked your camera trying to savor every single moment of the trip. 

“Stop. Stop. Stop.” You said to him, halting in your tracks. “C’mere. This is the perfect spot to take a selfie together.” You came across a view through the trees that overlooked the sea. Mountains were up ahead too, and the sun hit your skin in just the right way. The whole thing just  looked so aesthetically pleasing to you, you just couldn’t pass up the photo op.  

When he neared you, you both positioned yourselves for the camera. Tony was only a few inches taller than you, but you still had to stand on your tippy toes to place your arm around his shoulder. In this case, you wanted to place bunny ears over his head. A combination of this, as well as holding the camera left you quite unbalanced. And as tight as Tony held onto your waist, it still wasn’t enough to keep you both from tumbling down the hill just after you heard the shutter of your camera.

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

He practically kicked down the door of your house when he came upon it. You were draped around his back like a monkey as he jogged you through the living area. 

“Tony put me down.” You begged. 

“Christ Y/N, I told you to be careful.” He reprimanded, as he placed you on your feet, pushing you down on the couch. He ran to the nearest bathroom, ransacking the contents of the medicine cabinet for a first-aid kit. 

When he found all of the necessary supplies, he came rushing back to tend to your wound. If you could even call it that. It was a small bloody scrape on your kneecap, and he acted as if it needed to be amputated if he didn’t treat it soon. 

“Damn it! Is alcohol better, or should I use peroxide? Fuck it, soap and water it is.” He muttered to himself.  His head was all over the place as he ran to go get a small bowl of warm soapy water, returning once it was retrieved. He wanted something that would both clean the cut, but also wouldn’t cause you any pain. 

Getting down to his knees, he tended to the scrape. He took your leg, tenderly into his hands, before going to work.

“Tony, I’m fine.”

He ignored you, continuing his movements with the cotton-ball. You couldn’t help but admire him as he cleaned your knee. The look of dexterity in his face was astounding. It was the same look he’d get, when he worked on a new piece of tech. 

You were beginning to feel guilty. Truthfully, Tony was the one who took the worst end of the fall. He had a cut on the bridge of his nose, and one on his cheek. You even saw his shirt was damp, and a small pool of red liquid was forming underneath. Yet he remained trained on you, determined to make sure you were okay.

“Tony, you’re hurt!” 

“I’m fine.” He insured.

  “But Tony.”

“Baby, I need to concentrate.” He had long stopped the bleeding on your knee, patched it up, and was currently searching for any other wounds. He placed a quick kiss on your bandage. “You okay?” He asked, finally meeting your eyes.

“Yes,—”

“Does anything else hurt?”

“No, but—”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” 

“None. Can I—”

“Are you feeling any shortness of breath? Nausea? Weakness? Dizziness? Chest pain? Because those are all signs of internal bleeding—”

“No, Tony. Please stop. You’re the one who’s bleeding!” It was your turn to treat him, yet he kept rambling on and on about you. You took a cotton pad and got to work on his face. That was when he began sulking.

“This is my fault.”

“No its not.”

“Yes it is. I made you clumsy.”

You chuckled at how dead serious he was. “I have a scrape on my knee, that will be gone in like ten hours. Meanwhile you have a bloody face, and a possible gash on your stomach, and you’re upset about me falling?”

“I just don’t like when you get hurt.”

“I’m fine. I’ve been trying to tell you that.” When you were done with his face, you hunched over to his stomach to patch the scrape there as well. Tony, still placed between your knees, repeated your actions from earlier, this time admiring you. When you were done treating the cut on his stomach, you tried to pull back, but he caught your wrist, trapping you in his gaze. 

You two stayed like that for a moment, before he captured your lips in his. Deepening the kiss, he lifted himself up onto the couch as he did so. He pushed you back so you lay against its length, stretched out completely as he hovered above you. Removing his sweaty t-shirt over his head, he threw it across the room before attacking your lips again. 

He tugged at the drawstring on your shorts, while placing wet kisses along your neck. You laced your fingers in his hair, trying to guide him to where you wanted him, but you didn’t have to do much since he knew all of your spots. 

His right hand pushed your shirt up to expose your bra, before his lips traveled down your skin to lay butterfly kisses in his wake. He pushed between your thighs, draping your legs around his waist. Your breaths were coming out in labored pants, as you realized this was the moment you’ve been waiting for. 

As you were moving against him, you felt an unusual amount of liquid pool to your panties. Then, your eyes which were previously glued shut, snapped open. “Shit.” You shrieked, sitting up with a quickness. It all startled Tony so much, he rolled off of the couch.

“Fuck!” He yelped, when his head collided with the floor. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” Was all you repeated as you scampered away. 

“Ow?” Tony groaned rubbing his head, but when he sat up to question you, he only saw your ankles as you retreated into the bathroom. 

When it slammed shut, he leapt up to his feet to see what the problem was. “Y/N, open up. We can talk about this.” He said, once he reached the doorway. 

“No we cant. Please don’t be mad at me, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t want you to feel pressured. I’m the one who’s sorry. We can wait, okay? Just come out please.”

“No Tony. It’s not that, its something else.”

“What is it?” He was met with sobbing, as you began to weep. Trying to open the door, he thought you had hurt yourself, or that he had hurt you, and was now beginning to grow even more worried. “Baby open the door, please.”

“No! You’re gonna hate me.”

“I could never hate you. Please, just tell me what’s wrong!” Tony pleaded, banging on the door. 

“I just started my period” You cried, breaking out into tears. You continued for a minute, until you realized he wasn’t making any noises. “Tony?” 

“I’m still here, pumpkin.” He replied, trying to soothe you. 

“Are you mad at me?” You shrieked.

“Nope. I’m just thinking.” He informed you. 

“About what?” 

“About how much my head hurts.” He chortled. “You could have just told me, without panicking so much.”

“But I—I  ruined our wedding night.” You wailed. 

He scoffed at how silly you were being. “No. You didn’t. Can you come out now? I think I’ve talked to doors enough today.”

“No. I deserve to drown in my tears.”

“Y/N. You’re being ridiculous. Come out.” He demanded once more. 

“No! Just go away. I wanna be alone.” You whined. And so, he did. 

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

1 hour later

Lying in bed, wrapped up in your comforter like a burrito, you soaked the sheets with tears. You had fished out one of your emergency tampons from your purse to clean up, then grabbed a bottle of wine. You’d emerge from the covers every so often to take a sip, but then immediately plunge back under when you were done. 

Tony was gone. That was bad. You knew you had told him to, but you didn’t expect him to actually listen. You weren’t being fair, but you still expected him to just read your mind like the genius he was. Like he usually did. 

It was better this way. I deserve it. You thought. You thought he was pissed at you, as he should be. He had every right to be. No you couldn’t control your period coming earlier than usual, but you could have at least controlled your sour reaction. It was also your fault for constantly denying him. Yes, you wanted to take advantage of all of Kauai’s island fun, but you’d be lying if Nakia’s words didn’t ring in your head. You were nervous to give yourself to him for the first time, and that made you sort of relieved that you still had time to prepare.

You took another swig of your grown up juice, only to quickly scramble back to your cocoon when you heard the front door open and shut. 

“Sweetheart.” You heard Tony faintly call from the other room. When he realized you weren’t in the place he left you, you heard his quick shuffle draw nearer. The closer he drew, the more you encapsulated yourself into the comforter. You told yourself you’d act like you were sleeping, in order to avoid facing him. 

When he entered the room, he called your name again softly, as he took his stance by the side of the bed. He, despite your poor attempts, knew that you couldn’t be asleep in such a position: the heavy bedding would practically suffocate you. 

“Y/N, get up. I brought you a few things.” He informed you. He was met by silence. When he nudged your side, you moaned and groaned like the undead. You heard the plastic of a bag rustle, as he poured its contents all over the bed. He untucked the cover from over your head, and got on the mattress beside you. Stroking your head lovingly, he said a “Hi”, as you reluctantly met his eyes. You peered at him through dewy lashes and puffy eyes. 

He offered you a kind expression before beckoning you to “Sit up.” You did so, and that’s when you saw the arrangement of  feminine hygiene products, candy, ice cream, chips and every other favorite snack of yours. But best of all, was the wine. You retreated back to your burrito, after bawling your face up with sadness. Tony heard your muffled cries through the comforter, as you sobbed out “No one’s ever bought me tampons before!”

“Well that’s sad.” He declared.

You ignored him, wailing “I don’t deserve you” as you let out the ugliest cries you’ve ever heard in your life. 

“Yes you do.” He corrected you, further folding you in your blanket, before picking you up to haul you into the living room. As he threw you over his shoulder, you continued your drunken wails even as he placed you on the couch. He turned on Netflix to the show “friends”, it was something of a ritual to play it whenever you felt bad, and as soon as the theme came on, you started dry-heaving.

You shakily pulled out your unfinished bottle of wine drinking its remains, before grabbing the one Tony bought, as he glared at you like you grew another head. “And I thought I had an alcohol problem.”

“Shut-up, I’m sad.”

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

Almost one week later. 

As the end of your vacation approached, you had been all over the island of Kauai. You experienced all of the joys of a honeymoon, save the sex. 

Every morning, your husband made you breakfast in bed, and made you feel like a princess. Just like from before when you guys dated, he’d bring you flowers with a notecard attached to them on your breakfast tray. 

He really made you forget that you couldn’t have sex, but then he’d remind you the second after when he placed kisses on your shoulders. After breakfast, you guys would get ready for the day ahead. You always did something new. You went kayaking, zip-lining, snorkeling, and an array of other things that you dreaded the end of.

Couples massages were the absolute worst. Every time your period came around, you were a horny mess. So it didn’t help when Tony rubbed warm oil on your back, tenderly massaging it into the skin, while whispering all of the dirty things he was gonna do to you the minute he knew you were ready. His large warm hands would travel particularly low on your back, as he worked out your kinks, pressing kisses onto your spine every now and then. 

You now shivered at that memory, as you gazed at the stage in front of you. Where you were currently, was a live dinner and show. It was your last night in Kauai, and Tony wanted to make it special by bringing you to a place you begged to go, even though he cringed at the idea. Different bands played live “island” music, while couples both danced and cheered from their seats. 

You and Tony were sitting at a far off table, that was mostly away from prying eyes. He was actually enjoying it more than he thought he would. He would kill you if you told his friends that though. While he was enjoying the show, you were sitting still, gazing at him, more quiet the usual. 

You were trying to debate with yourself, on how to tell him your period was over. While you were happy it was gone, butterflies overturned your stomach as you realized tonight might actually be the night. Nakia’s words, still haunted you, as they tended to, and you fought yourself for refusing her pointers. 

“What’s wrong baby?” Tony asked you, pulling you out of your daze. “I thought you wanted to see this show.” 

You tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth before saying “I did. Its just I wanted to thank you for working so hard in order to make me happy.”

“I’d do anything to make you happy.” He said, placing a hand over your knee, giving it a tight squeeze before pulling away, turning his attention back to the show. You caught his hand, however, before it could drop. 

“I have something to tell you. Promise you won’t judge me.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow as he smirked, already ready for where this was going. “I promise.” he affirmed. 

“Okay.” You said, taking in a deep breath. “I wanted to make sure before I told you this, but my period is off. But before you say anything, I just wanted to ask you this: if we decide to take things further tonight, could you please just take it slow with me?”

Tony’s smile faltered, before dropping completely. He thought you were going to say you wanted more fries. “Where is this coming from?” He questioned you, upset that he made you so worried and self-conscious. 

You looked down, unable to meet his eyes. You truly felt pathetic as you confessed, “I just know that you probably expect things of me. And its been so long since I’ve done this, I wonder if I even know how to please you. I just want to be enough.” 

Tony sighed, placing a finger on his temple frustratedly. “Aw baby I think you need a drink.” He stated, reaching for the bottle of tequila he ordered for the table. The plan for the night, was to get drunk, act stupid, and pass out wherever the liquid took you. 

He began to pour you a shot to ease your nerves, before speaking again. “Let me be clear about something” he started, the liquid splashing against the glass cup, before he sat the bottle of liquor down on the table. “I don’t expect anything from you, but your permission. Just give yourself to me, and I’ll take care of the rest. And if you wanna wait, like I said before: sex isn’t everything. I’m happy with just you. But, just tell me when you’re ready” He ordered, gazing into your soul. 

You were the first to break eye contact. You sprinkled salt on the side of your hand, licking up its contents soon after. Tony drank in your movements, pupils blown with lust. You washed down your salt with tequila, wincing at the slight burn. Your wince turned into a cringe when you placed a lime wedge between your lips, its juices spilling down your chin. Pouring yourself another shot, you slammed your cup down on the table before abruptly standing up. “Okay, i’m ready.” You proclaimed, practically a new woman with this newfound liquid courage. 

Tony poured himself a shot, before standing too, capturing your waist as he pressed your back firmly against the edge of the table, before lifting you to sit upon it. He pushed open your knees with his legs, bringing himself between them. You looked at him with alarm mixed with confusion. “I didn’t mean here!” You exclaimed, causing him to chuckle. 

He placed a lime wedge between your teeth. “Hold that for me sweetheart” he ordered, sitting you back just far enough to sprinkle salt along your collarbone without it falling. He licked a slow stripe along the skin, where the salt sat. Picking up his shot, he threw it back, before you felt his hot breath fan your lips. As they hovered there for a moment, he rescued the lime wedge from your lips. 

Not satisfied with its taste, he dropped it over your shoulder, going for your lips instead. The kiss was feverish, as his sour yet sweet tongue probed your mouth. You threw one of your hands behind your back to hold your balance, while Tony let his hands run along the length of your body. He squeezed firmly upon reaching one of your breasts, placing his other hand between your thighs. You moaned at the action, lacing your fingers in his hair in your attempts at deepening the connection. 

Tony let his lips trail down your neck, right back to your collarbone, where he tasted remnants of salt. His hand that was placed on your thigh, slid closer, and closer to your entrance, before he dared to hook his fingers between the fabric. 

“Sir!” A man said from behind him, violently tapping his finger on Tony’s shoulder. “You can’t do that here.” 

When you two looked over his shoulder, you realized it was the same waiter from before that you traumatized early on in your trip. He was definitely done with your shit. 

You both let out a chuckle, before Tony turned to you, saying “Lets go home.”

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ 

Stumbling into the house, Tony kicked the door shut before spinning you to press your back firmly against it. The two of you were desperate to show the other how much you wanted them, in one heated session. He entangled his tongue with yours, roughly making you eat his kisses. Like at the show, he broke the kiss to pepper more along your skin. 

He started with your neck, sucking roughly, immediately causing purple and blue bruises to show in its wake. Then, he moved on to suck and lick at the exposed parts of your breasts. Finally, he fell to his knees bunching up your dress so it stay just above your waist, before ridding you of your panties. You tensed up as he performed the action, taking in a deep breath as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder locking it, and you in place, against the door. 

Before he draped his arm over the leg that was on his shoulder, he gazed up at you, silently asking you of your permission before going any further. “Keep going, please.” You urged, and that was all the push he needed. He offered a small smile, before he attacked your entrance with his tongue. 

He was usually one for foreplay, but you two had been playing that for a year now, so he wasted no time violating your nub. 

You threw your head back against the door, not even bothered by the pain from the thud, as whimpers and mewls escaped your lips. You were far too focused on his slow but firm measures against your body. Tony’s arm around your leg, was in a position where he could hold you in place, and rub harsh circles around your nub at the same time.

He ran his tongue between your folds, licking up the sweet nectar you offered, while he used his other hand to let his fingers invade your insides. 

Bucking and rocking against his face, the pleasure was so intense, you found yourself trying to pull away, but his strong arms held you steady. Your fingers found his hair, and you didn’t know  whether you wanted to pull him closer to you, or tug him further away. He made the decision for you, burying his face deeper into your pussy. 

He took the fingers he used to stretch you out and placed them at your lips, spreading them open, before replacing his thumb with his mouth, sucking harshly at your nub. Your juices dripped down his chin, as you desperately tried to hold on to something. In realization that you were slipping, Tony hooked your other leg over his shoulder, giving him more access to your opening. As you climbed further up the wall, he followed you, determined to keep you from escaping his relentless endeavors. 

You were unable to form any other words besides, Tony, uttering the two syllables every other second. Moans erupted through your chest, tears streamed down your face, and your nails digged into the skin behind his neck, as you chased your orgasm. Working you through it, he licked up the trail of cum, that dripped from your cunt. He groaned against you as if you were the most delicious drink he had ever tasted. 

Placing you gently down onto the ground, he chuckled when he had to catch you from falling. He swiped his thumb across his chin, before licking the remnant of your juices off the pad  of the finger. He moaned at the taste, leaning in to transfer it to your lips. 

He cupped the globes of your ass, as he stuck his tongue down your throat. “Taste that?” He asked between kisses. 

“Yeah.” You half-whispered, trying to keep up with him.

“So fucking sweet.” He replied, in reference to your essence. He then hoisted you up so you could wrap your legs around him, before traveling through the house. 

It was your turn to attack his neck as he carried you away to your room. Tony, now completely riled up stood you on your feet, as the two of you ripped away articles of each other’s clothing. He let the straps of your dress, fall as it pooled around your feet.

You were starting to feel self-conscious again, since this was the first time he had seen you so bare. While you were looking down in shame, Tony was ogling at your beauty. “Fuck.” He exclaimed. “How did I get so lucky. You’re an angel.” You smiled sheepishly at his comment, your confidence was slowly coming back. He gently pushed you, so that the back of your knees could collide with the mattress. 

You climbed backwards, pushing yourself under the covers, the remaining bit of shyness making you cover yourself in shame. 

Tony, eyes still remained on you, finished ridding himself of his clothes. When he was done, he lifted up the bottom of the comforter, climbing in at the foot of the bed. He made a few stops along the way, kissing at your legs, thighs, and stomach, before revealing himself from beneath the sheets. He smiled, when you giggled, placing a quick kiss to your mouth. That one turned into a deeper one, as he bit and tugged at your lips. 

He placed himself at your entrance, still kissing your bare skin to ease your mind a bit. He was big, you knew that much, and it kind of made you nervous. Slowly moving forward, he pushed his tip in, teasing your opening, before stretching you completely.

You both groaned at the feeling. Him at your tight fit, and you at the feeling of him inside you completely. As he bottomed out, you released a gasp, which Tony cut off with a kiss. “Tell me when to move, princess.” He said between pecks.

You nodded your head after a moment, unable to form any words, signaling for him to move forward. Tony’s hips instinctively snapped forward at first, but then he slowed his movements on account of this being your first time with him.

Slow thrusts, turned into quick ones, as he pounded into you. Your cries and moans, and the sound of your wetness mixed with his thrusts,  bounced off of the walls. You wrapped your legs around his waist, as he inserted himself in and out of you. His arms that were previously on either side of your face, collapsed as he let his lips attack the crook of your neck. 

Your hands, that fisted the sheets, found his back, clawing at the flesh, as he let out growls from the sting and from the pleasure. 

He picked up his pace, and the closer you got, the dirtier his words were. “Look at you taking my cock like a good girl.” He would whisper in your ear, as he drilled into you. When you would clench your walls around him, he would get nastier. “Oh you like that? You’re so fucking sexy. Are you gonna cum princess? Hmm?” He would question, cupping your jaw as he looked up to peer into your eyes.

You would just moan in response. Your body, and his, becoming drenched in sweat, tears, and who knows what other kind of liquids, as you two stuck together like glue. He became incoherent the wetter you got, and the more your walls fluttered against him, signaling your impending orgasm. 

“F-fuck baby! I-i’m gonna cum!” You managed to choke out, your lower stomach spasming, as you writhed against him, placing a hand against his chest.

Tony said nothing as he slipped in and out of you, hand grasping the hand that was on his chest gripping your wrists, and placing them above your head. He didn’t have to say a word, because his face said it all. His brows were furrowed together, eyes glued shut, sweat soaking his forehead, and mouth hung open as he continued his motions in and out of you. 

If he wasn’t going fast before, his pace was now brutal as he approached his orgasm too. Each stroke was a hit against your g-spot, and a graze against your clit, that had you speaking in tongues. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the closer you came to ecstasy. Your whimpers turned into screams, as your coil snapped. Your orgasm, was Tony’s breaking point, as your pussy had a death grip against his dick. His hips stuttered, and his cock twitched inside of you, as he let out the sexiest grunt you had ever heard, spilling his seed into you. 

He released his grips on your wrists, surely leaving a mark in its wake. He laid his sweaty forehead against yours for a moment, trying to gather his composure. You, too, were gasping for the same air as him.

You both still hadn’t opened your eyes yet, vision too blurry from the stars you were seeing. This man made you experience the most intense orgasm of your life. 

Capturing your lips once more, Tony left a lingering kiss on you. After that, he finally let his eyes open, you followed suit. He smiled and asked, “I can’t believe you were that amazing. And you had the nerve to be worried.”

You spared some of your breath, as you let a laugh. “I didn’t even do anything. I just laid there.” You told him. 

“You can just look at me, and I’ll fall to pieces.” He admitted, which made you erupt into a fit of giggles. 

Still in each other’s embrace, you two recalled the entirety of your relationship, down to this very trip. You recalled the very first moment you told each other your feelings. The moment he met your friends and you his. The time Okoye threatened to kill him for almost forgetting your favorite color. The time you tripped in your wedding dress. Even the time you fell down a hill a mere 5 days ago. And he would absolutely not, let you forget the moment you burst out crying because he bought you wine and tampons.  

Laughing, and blushing over some of the silliest moments in your relationship, you promised that though it was bittersweet, you were your happiest when you were with him. 

“Now, that we've warmed up,” Tony started, cheeky smile forming on his lips. “Are you ready to try out some of those new toys?” 

A/N: You guys should like...tell me what you think :) 

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Silva Lining (Saul Silva x Reader) Chapter 10

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 3.3k

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You were on cloud nine. Waking up in Sauls arms the next morning was the highlight of your life. Granted, you were sore! The discomfort was something you were willing to put up with however because last night was mind blowing.

The morning after was filled with gentle playing and heated make out sessions. It was Sunday so luckily neither of you were expected to be anywhere. You showered together, learning each others bodies further. Saul made you breakfast and after that you lay and watched a movie together. Normal, mundane, relationship stuff. It was all you could dream of.

Unfortunately the time came where you had to go back to your dorm. Instead of doing the walk of shame you opted for your new favourite method of transportation. Portal. Saul kissed you deeply before the black whole appeared and you disappeared through it. At least now you could teleport back and forward into his room having seen the inside more clearly.

The girls jumped when your portal appeared in the middle of the room. They’re were on your instantly, eager for the juicy details. You sat down and gave them the PG version, not delving into too much detail. What you both did last night was personal and not for the faint hearted. You also showed off the presents Saul had gotten you and the Winx club squealed in delight when they saw the ring. After your lowdown of the events last night, the girls let you know that the party was a massive hit and if it wasn’t for Terras hangover potion they’d all still be in bed.

Presents adorned the floor of the main room you notice, someone must have brought them up for you. There were so many you didn’t know if you’d manage to open them all on your own. So one by one the girls helped you unwrap the gracious gifts. That took up a chunk of time. Still chatting and opening, Terra blushed and rattled off about how Helia had kissed her goodnight at the end of the party, then you noticed Aisha blushing too, the same thing had happened with her. The specialists were making moves and you couldn’t help but swell with excitement for your friends. Everything was perfect, maybe too perfect.

——————————————————————————————————

-The Next day-

“What do you think the assembly is about?” Your arm was linked with Stella’s as you walked through the grand halls of the castle you called your school. You’d never get used to your real life Hogwarts.

“It’s a burned one assembly apparently and even worse, my mother is leading it. Yippee. She’s really just here to check on my progress and remind me how much of a disappointment I am.” Your best friend rolled her eyes. You were slightly nervous about meeting the Queen of Solaria, I mean, who wouldn’t be. Stella had insisted you’d stay with her. Emotional support. You took her hand in yours and gave it a squeeze.

The cars pulled up and the chauffeur opened the door for the Queen. Regal and gorgeous, the spitting image of Stella apart from she had brown hair instead of blonde. She came over and greeted Stella with a hug and then stopped. Her eyes widened as she looked at you. She was starring and you didn’t know why….

“Pleasure to meet you your highness.” You curtsied, Stella had shown you how. It seemed to snap the Queen from her daze and she smiled at you.

“How lovely, you must be Y/N, Stella’s told me a lot about you.”

——————————————————————————————————

You’d left Stella to catch up with her mum. Aimlessly wondering the halls looking at features you’d never stopped to appreciate before. Then you saw one flustered looking man.

“Sa- Mr Silva!.” You jogged to catch up to him. He stopped turning. He didn’t smile. Woooah. He looked stressed.

“Now isn’t a great time Y/N.” You wanted to reach out and touch him but there were students all around. Did he really just brush you off though? Must be something serious going on for his shitty attitude.

“Okay.” You whispered. “Well, maybe we can talk when you change your attitude anyway.” You were annoyed. You knew his job was stressful and you knew that you had to act like student and teacher during school hours, however, you’d like to think that he would be a bit more… kinder, even when he was pissed at something else. Before he spoke you’d turned on your heel, flicking your hair behind you and walked off. Suck on that.

——————————————————————————————————

The assembly had started. You weren’t there. You were too annoyed with Saul to sit there while he was up at the front acting as if he wasn’t rude to you two minutes ago. You skipped, wondering the school grounds when you bumped into Bloom.

“Whats your excuse for skipping?” You fell into step with the red head, who explained she was trying to find more about where she came from. Part of you realised that maybe you should have been making more effort in that department. You were still a mystery and going through the books you had stolen from the library in Magix hadn’t turned anything up yet.

You reached a storage cellar, old books, pictures and other junk filled the room to the brim, all covered in dust and cobwebs. Sky was there, he seemed surprised to see you, like wise.

“Maybe while were looking I might find something about me too.” You started searching through things. Not sure at all about what you were looking for when you were then joined by Beatrix and Riven. Not two of your favourite people to say the least.

You didn’t know them too well, but there was a reason for that. Trouble seemed to follow them everywhere and Beatrix gave you a weird vibe. Not good juju. Riven was just a punk. He thought he was the bad boy but it was all an act which you saw straight through. Example A. Beatrix just dropped the bomb that Riven was the one walking around school telling everyone Bloom was a changeling. You still didn’t see the big deal about changelings. You were one too after all. Sky and Riven left, leaving you alone with the two girls.

“So, that door is locked. Are we breaking in or not?” You didn’t wait for their answer. Curiosity getting the best of you. Walking over you put your hand on the lock and picture it heating up. Fire. Another one of the many abilities you possessed. Your magic was second nature to you now. Like you’d been practising for years. It was scary and cool at the same time just how intone with your abilities you were. The lock fell off and the door swung open.

——————————————————————————————————

What the hell had you been dragged into. Honestly this wasn’t really your style. But hey, you’d gotten this far. You were currently in a stolen car, driving to some place called Asterdale. Bloom had a theory that’s where her parents might be from and hey, what do you know, Beatrix knows where it is. So yup, you were in the front of a stolen.. ROYAL car.

Ohhh lord. This wasn’t going to end well.

- Sauls POV -

Where the hell was she. Why wasn’t she at the assembly?! Saul was ragging, scared, angry at himself for being so flippant with Y/N earlier. The visit from the Queen and with the death of a teacher, it was a lot to deal with. He hadn’t meant to take it out on his sweet girl. Now he was just worried. Leaving the assembly would look suspicious so he stayed, part of him hoping she was just running late.

His fears got worse when he went back to Farah’s office. Farah had noticed Y/N wasn’t there either. She was more worried than she’d ever been. Then Y/N’s suit mates burst through the door looking worried too.

“Y/N and Bloom were in the east wing its Beatrix during assembly.” Saul, Farah and Ben all looked at each other.

“Okay and why were they down there?” Farah was quick to get it in the neck from Musa. Who was visibly concerned about something. Saul couldn’t stand still, pacing back and forward.

“Omg we know, we know that someone killed Callum and you think it was a fairy and that’s what you were looking for in the assembly!” Saul’s head whipped round to Terra. “We haven’t heard from them in hours and no one as seen Beatrix either.” Saul’s thoughts were interrupted by a voice through the ear piece he was wearing.

“One of the Queens Guards are knocked out, his SUV is gone.” Sauls jaw clenched and made his way to the door. He was mad. If Beatrix had hurt his girl in any way, there would be hell to pay.

“We will find them, I promise.”

——————————————————————————————————

-Your POV-

The place Beatrix took you to was bare. Was this some kind of sick joke? You drove two hours for this? Nothing but open fields and shrubs next to a steep looking cliff over looking choppy, cold water.

“And this is where you’ve taken us to kill us, right?” You joked but part of you was actually worried. You’d always thought Beatrix was a shady bitch. “Asterdale is a town right? So where is it?” You stopped, looking into the vastness. Bloom looked twitchy, annoyed almost because you guaranteed she was thinking the same thing as you.

You were alarmed all of a sudden when your ears pricked up at the sound of electricity, turning just in time to see Bloom shouting at Beatrix who’s hands were glowing with power.

“You’re not the only powerful fairies at Alfea you know.” Yup, you were right. You were so about to die. You raised your hands ready for a fight but the bolt of blue electricity burst past you hitting an invisible forcefield just like the one that surrounded the school and crashed with a loud bang, revealing chaos behind it.

Beatrix went on to tell you both about how Asterdale used to be a beautiful place, but one winter Burned Ones surrounded the settlement and a Military Unit from Alfea decided destroying the Burned Ones was more important than the lives of the people living there. How Queen Luna was the one who had put up the veil that stopped people from really seeing what had happened to the once thriving village. Then she went onto drop the bomb that Asterdale is where she was born and her family were killed there. The only people who survived were her… and you and Bloom. You were from Asterdale?

“I saw it, Dowling, Silva, Harvey.” Beatrix had tears rolling down her face. No, no…. Saul would never kill innocent people. Never. He couldn’t… that wasn’t your Saul. You whipped quickly at the stray tears that had fallen. He knew about this and he didn’t tell you? Did he know where you were from and he didn’t tell you because… he had a hand in killing a village full of innocents?

You’d heard enough and couldn’t bare to listen to anymore. You walked away, Beatrix and Bloom still talking about what had happened. You watched as the veil came down again slowly, covering up the evidence of a war crime. It was gone, just like that. As if nothing ever happened. As if the people that had once lived there never mattered. Forgotten in time.

Bloom still didn’t trust Beatrix, and neither did you. You opted for sitting in the back this time. Keeping an eye on the girl you hardly knew. What game was she playing? You felt like there had to be more to the story. Why would you and Bloom be hidden away in the first world? Why would Dowling, let you and Bloom into the school knowing that she killed your families?

“And we will get it because Rosalind is alive.” You caught the tail end of the convo, having been zoned out with your own thoughts. Hold the fuck up. The mysterious woman who had been leaving cryptic messages in Blooms head was.. Alive? After Miss Dowling told her that she had been dead for years. The plot thickens. You were about to make a comment but something on the road caught your eye.

“Oh fuck.” You braced yourself against the seat in the back as you watched Saul fire an arrow at the wheel of the car. It burst, sending the car skidding across the road. This was nottt going to be good.

You all jumped out of the car, Beatrix tried to run but Farah had used her magic and she was slowly sinking into the ground. Miss Dowling walked over, slapping on two bracelets on Beatrix’ wrists, it looked like coiled pieces of barbed wire. You didn’t care if B was shady, no one deserved that pain. Both you and Bloom bolted from the car with shouts of protest. You were lifted up into Sauls arms where you kicked and screamed to get free. Bloom was held back by Mr Harvey who was a lot stronger than he looked. You gave up, settling into Sauls arms, he was whispering in your ear trying to calm you, his hold on you tightening. Normally you’d feel comfort in his touch, but the story from Beatrix left you with some unanswered questions too big to go ignored.

——————————————————————————————————

The girls were waiting for you outside. Stella grabbed you in a hug, you could tell she was worried. Saul was carting Beatrix away to her magic prison cell, not before letting you know that he’d speak to you later. Duty called. Duty sucked.

“Y/N, after we deal with Beatrix see me in my office, there’s something important we must discuss.” You glared at Miss Dowling who gave you a sympathetic look. Stella squeezed your arm.

“Y/N, you need to hear what she has to say. It’s important.” How did Stella know what she wanted to talk about. This whole day was one big bowl of confusing and you just wanted it to be over with. “Just know, I’ll be here when you’re ready, I promise.” Okay, so that wasn’t worrying at all…..

“I’m afraid miss Y/L/N, Stella won’t be able to keep that promise any time soon. Were leaving, Stella get in the car.” Stella’s eyes widened as she watched her things from the dorm being packed into her mothers car. The Queen was waiting for Stella to do what she said and this was one battle you wouldn’t win. Could you catch a break?

“No, No, NO, Stella you can’t leave, please I need you, you’re my best friend.” You were crying, the frustrations of the day coming out all at once. Stella was crying too but the Queens guards took her by the arms despite her struggles and stuffed her in the car. It was too much, you were sobbing, your vision blurry from the tears. You felt someone come up behind you and noticed the familiar tingle, crying harder as the car sped off into the distance. You turned and screamed in Sauls chest, luckily his strong arms were around you otherwise you’d have fallen to the ground in despair. Could today get any worse?

——————————————————————————————————

Replaying the events from today to the other girls was hard. Luckily Bloom did most of the talking. Beatrix had apparently killed Callum and things were even more confusing now. You didn’t know who to trust, who to believe. Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Saul. Your tired looking soldier was standing at the door with heavy eyes. “Babe, can you come with me please, Farah wants to talk to you.” She’d already spoken to Bloom about the events earlier. Now it was your turn after having time to calm down about Stella.

Standing up silently, you made your way to the door, the girls hugging you on the way out. You had the urge to ask Saul everything there and then. Let the cat out of the bag. Say ‘I know what you did,’ but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You didn’t want to believe the reason you were an orphan was because of the man you loved. Instead you took his hand when the coast was clear and sighed, having needed his touch all day.

You found yourself at the Headmistresses office more often than not these days, but this time something felt different. You turned to Saul and look him in the eyes.

“Why do I feel like if I go in there life will never be the same again.” His hand came up to touch your cheek which you leant into, savouring his warm touch.

“Darling, everything is okay, everything will be okay I promise.” People had been making a lot of promises today, hopefully they would be able to keep them. You started for the door but then noticed Saul didn’t budge.

“Are you not coming in?” You tilted your head. He shook his and gave you a kiss before you went through the doors.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me though.” With that you left him, facing whatever punishment Headmistress Dowling had in store for you.

——————————————————————————————————

It hadn’t been as bad as you thought in the beginning. She sat you down, asked you if you wanted a drink or anything. Then she got into the nitty gritty stuff about what compelled you to go with Beatrix and Bloom. Answers. Answers you needed, that’s why you went with them.

“Bloom said something about her parents being from a place called Asterdale, Beatrix knew where it was. She took us there, we hoped we would find answers about why we were changelings. Turns out we learnt an ugly truth instead.” Farah looked shocked but you continued. “She said that Rosalind took her, me and Bloom, saved us from destruction cause by you, Silva and Harvey. Is that true?” Farah had her head in her hands. Guilt. You could practically smell it on her.

“It’s not what you think Y/N, please believe me, there’s more to the story.” She stood up, walking around to stand next to you. You stood up to, moving away from the woman who had set Saul up to spy on you. How could you believe her, all she’s done since you joined this world was lie.

“Why would I believe you! You killed my fucking parents!” You were angry. So angry, You could feel your eyes turning black. The shouting had alerted Saul who tried the door handles to get into the room but with a swish of your hand, the door was sealed shut, fire melting the hinges closed.

“Just calm down Y/N, please, lets talk about this.” In the background Saul was banging on the door and calling your name.

“Because of you, I don’t have a father, because of you I’ll never know my mother!” You advanced on the woman who had her hands up ready for a fight if that’s what it came to. You could feel the power coursing through your whole body. This is why you could control your magic so easily, you were so emotional.

“Y/N, I am your mother!” Farah screamed, Saul stopped banging on the door and your eyes faded back to their normal colour.

You knew before stepping into the room that something was going to happen and you were right, your world would be changed forever.

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

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CHAPTER 11 ------- CLICK HERE

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[staketheheart]

Noise

Jade was having a damn good dream that was unfairly obliterated when the rhythmic sound chased it away. Her eyes shot open and she tensed, anger quickly clearing away sleep. Not even the comfy warmth Tori gave off next to her calmed her down. She was tired of losing sleep, of the inability to focus on work when her neighbor's creaking bed pierced her peace. She could not fathom why they didn't at least get a new bed if their activities were going to persist at all times of the day. She couldn't count how many times she had to wear earbuds to bed in an effort to drown them out. Or how many times she banged on the wall in a wasted effort to silence them when she couldn't concentrate on her writing. Her creativity greatly suffered, and she lost sleep when it started early in the morning, waking her up hours before her alarm was set to go off. And to make matters worse, Tori was such a heavy sleeper she heard nothing. She was a master at tuning out bothersome sounds, having lived with Trina for so long.

But not Jade. Jade had no tolerance for annoyances. She even 'accidentally' let her stepmother's dog out when it wouldn't stop yapping. The poor animal was found days later down the street by a concerned neighbor who just brought the little beast right back to continue to annoy her. She let out a loud sigh that became a growl, rubbing her eyes. It seemed like she would forever be irritated no matter where she went. She rolled over and slipped her arm around Tori's middle, hugging her close and burying her face in her back. Tori grumbled something in her sleep but continued to snore on, unbothered and leaving Jade to attempt to regain sleep. But she didn't. She stayed awake until her alarm went off, finally waking up Tori. She stretched out, a sleepy smile on her face when she noticed how close Jade held her.

"Well good morning," she mumbled, turning her bright smile on Jade. It slowly fell when she was met with Jade's grumpy scowl, lack of sleep easily recognizable in her eyes.

"Did they bother you again?" Tori asked, resting a hand on Jade's face gently, concern in her frown. Jade only blinked, a brow jumping up incredulously.

"I really don't know how you can sleep through it. Or ignore the chick's obviously fake moaning. I swear, it's like a bad porno is playing on full blast over there. Don't get me started on the headboard shaking the wall because the squeaking bed is enough to drive me nuts as it is. I think I might actually leave a note on their door highlighting just how pissed off I am and demand that they at the least buy a new damn bed," Jade ranted, voice strained with simmering anger. Tori could see it building in the way Jade's jaw muscles flexed, the way her eyes glinted with malicious intent, the way her nostrils flared like a raging bull. She was no stranger to angry Jade. It was turned on her one too many times in high school to not recognize the signs that something bad was about to befall some poor soul. And just as it always has been, it fell to her to try and calm her down.

"Well, you did already key their car and pop their tires. You even scared the crap out of them when you pretended to be attacked and they almost called the police. You're lucky they came over to check on you instead of calling them or you would have been in big trouble," Tori replied, recounting Jade's endeavors to drive away their annoying neighbors.

"And yet, they're still here and still giving me a headache. I mean, I understand. Young couples, newly living together, they can't keep their hands off each other. I've been there. But seriously, if you're going to go at it all day be considerate to other people. These apartment walls aren't soundproof. Seriously, all I ask is a quiet bed and maybe less fake orgasms," Jade continued.

"Jade!" Tori exclaimed, scandalized.

"Tori, you can't disagree, even if you've rarely heard them. We don't even get that obnoxious and you're a freaking tiger in bed," Jade pointed out, causing Tori's blush to get worse. She was currently sitting up against the headboard, gripping the blankets to her chest, eyes wide and face red. She never could get used to the explicit way Jade spoke about things. She was far more conservative concerning private matters.

"Maybe you should say something then?" she suggested, turning to look at Jade. The dark-haired woman turned on her back and glared up at the ceiling.

"If I confront them about it I can't guarantee that I won't hurt them if they refuse to listen," she responded honestly. Tori rolled her eyes. Jade saw it and threw up her hands to let them fall back on either side of her.

"I can't help it. People have this rude habit of annoying me," she said.

"How many times do I have to tell you to be nice? If you just nicely explained the situation, I think they'll be more willing to comply. Threatening them with scissors won't work forever," Tori remarked sagely.

"It's worked so far," Jade responded pointedly. Tori pinched at the bridge of her nose, eyes closed.

"You know being nice is hard for me when people are so stupid or annoying," Jade pressed, propping herself up on an elbow to face Tori who was still frowning.

"Besides, you remember that day I tried to play nice with Moaning Myrtle when we were coming back from our date and she cut us off coming into the gate. I was mad, but I didn't even cuss at her. She apologized and I accepted. Even though I hate pretending to be nice to someone I really just want to throw a brick at," Jade recounted. Tori nodded and shrugged one shoulder, giving her that. It was a better response than allowing a laugh at the nickname she gave the neighbor. That would only encourage her. And Tori didn't want Jade to ruin Harry Potter for her more than she already had.

"The guy is a total dick though. Have you heard his conversations when the bros are invited over and she's gone? I wouldn't mind throwing a brick at him too," Jade added. This time Tori did chuckle. Jade's pout was adorable and her petulant tone added to the affect. Not that she approved of Jade's tantrum. She opened her mouth to offer condolences that would put Jade at ease when the very thing that upset her in the first place started up again. In an instant Jade was up and throwing the blankets off.

"That's it!" she snarled, stomping toward the door. Tori scrambled out of bed to cut her off.

"How about some coffee first? You always say it's a warm and delicious alternative to hating everybody, every morning, forever," Tori hastily reminded her, hands out to stop Jade from advancing. Jade stopped right before she reached the door, staring Tori down. Her expression went from angry to calm and then calculative. Tori didn't like the mischievous smirk that graced her lips seconds later. Like a flip of a switch Jade was eyeing Tori like a panther on the hunt. She fidgeted, her mind racing, trying to come up with a reason for the sudden change.

"I've just thought of a great idea," Jade revealed, stalking closer to reach past Tori to shut the door behind her, while at the same time backing her up until she was then pressed to the closed door.

"Uh, mind letting me in on it?" Tori stammered.

"Gladly, since you're going to help me," Jade answered, resting a warm hand on Tori's waist.

"With what?" Tori asked.

"Revenge," Jade whispered in her ear, body pressed against hers. She shivered.

"That won't solve anything," Tori tried to tell her, biting her lip when Jade's lips pressed to the sensitive spot just under the corner of her jaw.

"You sure about that? It's worth a try," Jade disagreed, moving to bite playfully at Tori's ear. Tori hummed, trying to focus her thoughts, but it devolved into a groan instead. Her thought process struggled. Jade's hands ran up her sides under her shirt then traced back down, making her skin tingle.

"Well, I don't like to call it revenge. Returning the favor sounds nicer," Tori allowed, causing Jade to laugh.

"Whatever you want to call it, Tor," she muttered, pulling her away from the door to relocate against the wall by their bed. The same wall they shared with their annoying neighbors. The squeaking still persisted but Jade planned to make them regret it. She reached up to knock hard on the wall, earning a short pause in the squeaking. As soon as it stopped she turned her attention to Tori.

"I'm sure you know what to do," she murmured, dragging a finger down her front to tug suggestively at her pajama shorts. Tori couldn't help reacting.

"Jade," she gasped. Jade grinned.

"I've never heard a better sound than when you're whimpering my name," Jade purred in her ear, knowing her words would help stoke the fire. Tori groaned and closed her eyes, head falling back and hips pressing into Jade's hands.

"Let's see if we can beat them at their own game," Jade challenged, sealing it with a kiss that quickly escalated into more.

The next morning Jade woke up to peaceful silence. Vaguely she remembered falling asleep to the same silence, Tori wrapped in her arms after another round of blissful revenge. She made sure Tori made her pleasure known and didn't hold back when Tori reciprocated. She wasn't normally rough with Tori, preferring tender passion, but she made sure their own bed complimented their activities. A large, pleased, smile spread across her face. It was the first thing Tori saw when she woke up several minutes later. It remained all through breakfast and grew impossibly bigger when they left their apartment and happened across their annoying neighbors in the parking lot. The couple awkwardly glanced at them and then hastily got in their car. Jade innocently waved at them when they drove by.

She was confident her point was made, but she would gladly improve upon it should they bother her again. Which they did when they got over the first incident. They went right back to it and Jade responded in kind. Until a week later she spotted a delivery man dropping off a rather large box. It looked like the neighbors finally got that new bed. For the first time in over a year Jade could work with focus, get to sleep on time, wake up on time, and enjoy the silence at her leisure. Whether the couple next door picked up on their activities or not remained unknown to Jade. Just as it should be.

"You're ridiculous," Tori told her one night while cuddled into her side, skin pressed against skin. Their own time together had gone back to slow and sweet. Jade chuckled, turning her head to kiss Tori's temple.

"I know," she agreed, proud and unashamed. Tori was just relieved the situation had been resolved without violence this time. To her, that was progress she would be all too happy to encourage.

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Chapter 17

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A FEW MINUTES LATER

BJORNHEIMR

Sigurd dragged his feet across the uneven terrain, slogging through the dead woods that now served as Dag’s tomb. His hand shone vividly with a bright layer of red due to the blood that clung onto his skin, and his ears still buzzed with the echoes of his friend’s final cries.

As for Eivor, the jarl’s son appeared to be equally as harrowed as his companion. His eyes mirrored the frozen desolation of the bleak landscape sitting before him, and his face remained expressionless much like the corpses that now rested at Bjornheimr’s temple.

Both of them traversed the world like a pair of hollow shells, wandering through the dark in search of any light to hold onto. A black haze had blotted out the beam that once twinkled in their eyes, and it seemed as if the fire that once burned in them had been completely snuffed out.

Eivor just prayed this would be the end of their grief. It wouldn’t be long before they got the information they needed from Gorm, and the young man imagined they would soon be braving the seas again in search of the wretch’s father.

It was an endeavor that would only lead to more war, no doubt. There was a high chance that more people would die during their pursuit, and Eivor could no longer guarantee that even he would survive a second battle against Kjotve.

But after everything that had happened, he refused to shy away from this fight. Kjotve’s death wouldn’t bring Ulfar or Thora back from the dead, that much was true. But even then, Eivor hoped that -- at least -- it would serve as a balm to ease the pain now wracking his heart. 

He didn’t even care about reclaiming his honor anymore. All he wanted was to bring this horrid war to an end. Far too many people had been lost to Kjotve’s barbarity, and Eivor’s only desire now was to deliver peace unto those who had suffered for so long.

It was something he was willing to die for at this point, and a part of him suspected that he would.

“Wait,” Sigurd said as they entered the village. He stopped in his tracks and gazed in the distance, looking towards the docks. “Is that Randvi’s ship?”

Eivor followed his line of sight, nodding in response. “Yes. Randvi and her men returned not too long ago. They arrived whilst you were dealing with Dag.” He paused briefly, giving the prince a grim face. “...I’ve already told her about Thora and Ulfar. She’s at the temple now with my father and Ingrida. They’re preparing for tomorrow’s funeral.”

“...How is she?”

“How do you think? She knew Thora and Ulfar even longer than I did. She... she’s beyond devastated.”

Sigurd sighed deeply, hanging his head low in regret. “...Damn it. I should’ve killed Dag weeks ago. I should’ve confronted him from the start. He had been acting so strange ever since we came to Bjornheimr. I shouldn’t have waited this long to do something about it. Perhaps none of this would’ve happened then.”

Eivor took a few steps closer to him, speaking softly. “You are not to blame, Sigurd. You had no way of knowing Dag was the traitor.”

The prince wasn’t swayed. “On the contrary, I was the only one who could’ve known. I was the closest one with Dag out of anybody in our clan. I should’ve been paying more attention. I shouldn’t have let my love for him blind my judgement.”

Sigurd shut his eyes for a moment and let out a breath, clearly exhausted from the day’s events. “...I’m sorry, Eivor. I know you don’t fault me for what’s happened, but even then, I still carry some of the blame on my shoulders. I must be more vigilant from now on. I can’t allow anything like this to occur again, and I won’t. You have my word.”

Walking away before the other man could respond, Sigurd left Eivor behind and simply pushed forward into the village, emerging from the forest like a shadow slipping out of the night. The despair that once dimmed his expression had been replaced with the flickering embers of a growing rage, and the Wolf-Kissed could almost see sparks igniting in his eyes.

As for the young man himself, he simply followed the prince from a distance and trailed along quietly, unsure of what else he could do to comfort his lover. A few of the villagers -- including Styrbjorn -- had turned their heads upon Sigurd’s anticipated return, and immediately brought their attention to the blood now staining his hand.

The color faded from the king’s flesh as soon as he noticed the striking pigment. He didn’t seem to understand what had transpired just yet, but the dreary cloud hanging over his son was enough to imply that something terrible had unraveled.

Styrbjorn approached the two of them, carrying a look of concern.

“My son...!” He called out, keeping his tone hushed. “Where have you been? What’s happened to you? Whose... whose blood is that?”

Sigurd exchanged glances with his companion, hesitant to answer. He didn’t appear to be any calmer than when Eivor first found him in the woods, and the younger man feared that it wouldn’t take much more to send him into a storm. 

“It’s... Dag’s.” The prince admitted. “...I killed him.”

The older man fell into silence, taken aback by his son’s actions.

“You did what?”

“I had to,” Sigurd justified, steeling his voice. “Dag was the traitor. I had to get rid of him before he did anything else. I couldn’t allow him to harm more people.”

“A traitor?” Styrbjorn repeated in disbelief. “Are you positive? What makes you so certain he betrayed us? Did you find any evidence?”

“He confessed his crimes, father. He told me everything. Dag was the one assisting Kjotve. He was the one who informed him of our alliance. Ulfar was right.”

The king didn’t seem convinced. “I see. And was there anyone else around to hear Dag’s confession?”

“...No. It was just me and him.”

Styrbjorn shook his head in disapproval. “Then how can we be so sure that you killed the right man?”

Sigurd stared at his father in bewilderment, finally catching on to the man’s concerns. “...You don’t believe me?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, son. But other people may not -- and for good reason, I might add. You just killed one of our own clan members because of a confession that nobody was around to hear. Nobody except for you. How can I accept that as evidence? How am I going to explain Dag’s death to our people? How can I convince them that what you did was not, in fact, murder?”

Sadly, Sigurd was in no state to process things rationally. The king’s doubt only added more fuel to the anguish that was already festering inside him, and his temper quickly took over like a hurricane commanding the seas.

“You can explain to them that I just killed the man responsible for Thora’s death! I killed the man who would’ve thrown the rest of us to the wolves. Had it not been for that rat, this village would still be in one piece. Thora would still be alive. I killed him because it was necessary.”

Styrbjorn was quiet in response, urging Sigurd to fill the silence.

“You think I murdered him out of indulgence? You know how much I loved him, father. He was my brother! I didn’t want to see him dead. But I did what was required to keep our clan safe. I finished what Ulfar started.”

But the king had nothing else to offer other than criticism. “You acted carelessly, Sigurd. There is no honor in slaying a man who cannot defend himself. You know this. If you truly believed Dag was the traitor, you should’ve brought him to me -- not slaughtered him in the woods. I could’ve held a trial to determine his judgement. His crimes would’ve been brought to light.”

“You think we have the time for something like that? Dag may have been reckless, but he wasn’t a fool. If there really was any evidence to find of his collusion with Kjotve, he would’ve destroyed it. We’d be investigating for weeks, if not months!”

“And what if there is evidence? What if we discover that Dag was not the only traitor in our midst? What will we do then, hm?”

Sigurd grew irritated. “We’ll deal with it. Just like I dealt with Dag.”

Styrbjorn sighed in defeat. “You rely too much on impulse, my son. You cannot take matters into your own hands like this. If you are to wear the crown someday, you must learn to respect the ways of our kingdom. A good leader enforces the law with a firm hand, but is never above it.”

The prince didn’t take kindly to that. “You are the last person to dictate what makes a good leader. While I’ve been fighting alongside our warriors on the battlefield, risking my life, you’ve been idling with a bottle in your hand, watching everything unfold! You say I’m reckless, but who else is going to defend your kingdom if not you?”

The older man turned away in shame, causing his son to descend even further into his tirade.

“Killing Dag was the only way to proceed, father. I wouldn’t have done it if I had any other options, but we are at a dead-end here. You don’t want me to act like this? Then you can swing the axe yourself next time!”

Coming to an abrupt halt, Sigurd cut himself off and took a moment to glance at his surroundings, suddenly realizing just how much attention he had drawn to their argument. Everywhere around him, men and women alike gawked at their altercation with a blatant sense of fear in their eyes, alarmed by everything they just heard. Not a single word was uttered amongst the small crowd that had gathered around them, and yet, it felt as if their very thoughts lingered in the air.

Looking at his father, Sigurd stepped away from the other man and slunk to Eivor’s side, backing down as if he were shocked by his own behavior. He appeared to be even more devoid of life now that he had argued with Styrbjorn, and within moments, he was desperately searching for a way out.

“I... I need to be alone.”

In the blink of an eye, Sigurd removed himself from the vicinity and retreated to the longhouse, aching for the solitude of his chambers. He left Styrbjorn and Eivor with nothing more than the company of their own thoughts, and disappeared as if he were smoke being whisked away by the wind.

In the meantime, the two men simply watched the prince vanish in the distance as the crowd began to disperse, granting them the luxury of privacy they so fervently desired. A portion of them already felt somewhat sheepish due to announcing their troubles to the public, and frankly, the only thing Eivor wanted was to lock himself in his room.

Unfortunately for the young man though, Styrbjorn didn’t seem ready to let him go just yet.

“Oh, Sigurd...” the king muttered to himself. “When will that boy learn...?”

Eivor approached the conflicted man, attempting to calm his nerves.

“Forgive him, my lord.” He pleaded. “Grief has befallen Sigurd. He made a great sacrifice for us today, cutting down his own friend like that. It will take him a long time to recover from this.”

Styrbjorn pinched the bridge of his nose out of stress, pacing back and forth in the snow.

“I understand that my son was only trying to protect our clan, but I must ensure he’s prepared to inherit the throne. We are at war, Eivor. There’s no guarantee I’ll be around by the time Kjotve is vanquished. The dawn of Sigurd’s reign could arrive sooner than he expects. He must be ready.”

“He is ready,” The Wolf-Kissed reassured. “He just needs time to heal.”

The king halted in his tracks and glanced at the younger man, inquiring about one other matter.

“Listen, Eivor. I hate to ask you of this considering everything that’s going on, but could you speak to Sigurd for me? I’d feel better knowing he wasn’t dealing with this alone.”

Eivor raised a brow. “Me? Why not you?”

“You’ve witnessed firsthand the animosity that stands between me and my son. Very rarely does Sigurd ever greet me with a smile. Whenever we’re together, it always feels like he’s angry at me, or frustrated. And the worst part is... I can’t even say he’s completely unjustified.”

“What do you mean?”

Styrbjorn sighed regretfully, dropping his gaze to the ground. There was a clear rein of hesitancy holding him back, but he knew that in order to help his son the best, he’d need to offer his full candor. 

“Perhaps he’s already told you this, but... ever since Sigurd’s mother passed away, I’ve found myself continuously drawn to the allure of drink. It’s something that’s haunted me for years now. I’ve tried many times to put down the bottle, but in the end, it always ends up trapping me in its clutches. I’m not proud to admit it, but it’s the truth.”

Eivor nodded in remembrance. “Sigurd has told me about this, yes.”

“I’m not surprised. He often speaks fondly of you. It’s clear you’ve gained my son’s unwavering trust. Unfortunately however, I cannot say the same for myself. My relationship with Sigurd has suffered due to my addiction. I have not always been the father he deserves, nor given him the guidance that he needed.”

The king’s stone facade faltered briefly. “It breaks my heart to consider it, but I fear that my own son views me as a nuisance more than anything. A lingering shackle that keeps holding him back. Sometimes I even wonder if the boy hates me.”

The young man’s expression softened with sympathy. “...No, Styrbjorn. No. He  doesn’t hate you. Even Sigurd himself has told me that he loves you. He just feels ignored.”

That caught Styrbjorn’s attention. “Ignored?”

“Yes. The last time he and I spoke about this issue, he expressed that he often feels like you don’t heed his advice; that his words tend to fall on deaf ears. Sigurd wants to help you overcome this, but he says you won’t let him.”

“It’s... true that I haven’t always kept my promises. I cannot deny that. But this battle is not so easily won.”

Eivor gave him an understanding look. “And Sigurd is aware of that. He knows you won’t be able to discard this overnight. But he just needs to see that you’re making some kind of effort. That will be more than enough for him. Trust me.”

Styrbjorn took the man’s advice to heart and quietly thought to himself for a moment, evidently shaken by this revelation. It was clear that a part of him drowned in guilt due to the discovery of Sigurd’s frustrations, but a hint of relief also twinkled in his eye now that he knew the boy still loved him.

“...I see.” The king said sincerely, gazing at the young man with an immense amount of gratitude. “Thank you for telling me this, Eivor. The path to reconciliation will be one laden with difficulties, but at least I can see where I must go. I will think on what you’ve said, and I’ll speak to Sigurd when the moment is right. In the meantime, could you talk to him for now? I fear that my presence would only amplify his anger.”

“Of course,” Eivor said with a firm nod. “I’ll check on him for you.”

“I appreciate it. Stay safe, my boy. Our struggles are far from over. I pray that the gods will extend their mercy to you from now on, and that you recover quickly from today’s tragedies. Peace is a distant reality for us at the moment, but not unreachable.”

~~~~~~~~~~

THE LONGHOUSE

SIGURD’S CHAMBERS

Wandering through the longhouse’s dimly lit halls, Eivor followed the trail of torches as he made his way to Sigurd’s chambers, overwhelmed by the looming silence that was broken only by his footsteps.

The adamant walls of the building had blocked out any intrusive sounds --  including that of the howling wind -- and as a result, nothing but the low crackling of fire was present to accompany the thoughts screaming in Eivor’s head.

He just didn’t know how to feel anymore. When he first discovered Thora’s body, the agony that overcame him was so fierce it almost crippled him entirely. He felt like the gods had ripped a hole in the very fabric of the world, and the impact of Ulfar’s death only pressed harder on the weight that was already resting on his shoulders.

Still, he couldn’t imagine what Sigurd was experiencing. Even though Eivor was no stranger to the atrocities of war, he had never been cursed with the responsibility of striking down his own brother. The mere idea of putting himself in the same position with Randvi was enough to crush him, and he worried that the guilt would twist the prince’s spirit into something much darker. He just hoped he could help the man before it was too late.

“...Sigurd?” The Wolf-Kissed said gently, knocking on the surface of his door. “It’s me, Eivor. Can I come in?”

A soft rustle emitted from the inside, followed up by the muffled thuds of Sigurd’s boots. The door swung open after a few moments, and standing in front of him, Eivor saw the prince, looking somber as ever.

“Eivor...?” He whispered, still afflicted by the ordeal with Dag. “You’re here?”

“Yes. I know you said you wished to be alone, but... I was worried. You disappeared from our sight before we could even get a word in. I wanted to check on you. I hope I’m not intruding.” The younger man paused for a second. “...How are you feeling now?”

Sigurd’s gaze fell to the floor. “I... I don’t know, Eivor.” His posture slouched in remorse. “...I’m not doing well.”

“Of course not,” Eivor said in understanding. “Dag was like a brother to you. No one could do what you did and come out unscathed.”

The prince scoffed. “No one except for my father, apparently.” He turned away from the door and stepped aside, allowing Eivor to come in as he spoke. “Can you believe that man? We are this close to winning the war against Kjotve, and he’s more concerned about due process.”

Eivor followed Sigurd into his chambers, closing the door behind them.

“Your father just wants to make sure you’re ready to rule the kingdom.”

“Well, there won’t be a kingdom to rule if we don’t catch Kjotve soon enough. My father says I’m careless in my behavior, but I don’t recall the last time I saw him lifting a sword. What else does he expect me to do?” 

Sigurd took a seat on the edge of his bed and sighed, completely drained of all vigor. “...I know I’m not perfect, Eivor. I know I still have much to learn. But everything I do is for the betterment of this clan. Why can’t my father see that?”

Eivor sat beside his lover, placing a comforting hand on his back. “He does see it. He may not be the best at getting his message across, but trust me when I say your father knows you have good intentions. He just worries that you’ll act with too much haste.”

The prince’s brow furrowed in curiosity. “Is that so? And what makes you so certain of that?”

“He and I talked after you left,” the younger man admitted. “He wanted to speak with you personally, but he thought that his company would only aggravate you more.” Eivor frowned in empathy. “...Your father thinks you hate him, Sigurd.”

Sigurd’s entire mood seemed to shift at the response, and for a split-second, it almost looked like he had completely forgotten about the rage he harbored. 

“He does...?”

“Well, he suspects it,” Eivor clarified, “but he said that things are always tense between you two. There never seems to be a moment of peace whenever you’re together.”

The prince shook his head, eager to dispel his beliefs.

“...No,” he said softly. “No. I don’t hate him. I love my father, in fact. I just hate the things he does sometimes.” Sigurd leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I want to keep him safe like I promised my mother I would. It brings me no joy to see him endure any pain or hardship, but...” he let out a breath of frustration, “...he never listens to me! Whenever I try to help him, he only pushes me away. Once, I even dumped all our ale into the river to stop him from drinking, and he broke into a fury unlike anything I’d ever seen.”

A grip of fear took hold of Sigurd’s voice. “...That stuff is poison, Eivor. It’s going to kill him someday. The last thing I want is to see my father step into an early grave, but how am I supposed to help him when he won’t even help himself?”

Eivor brought his partner into a hug, allowing his chin to sit on the man’s shoulder.

“You need to be more patient, Sigurd,” he advised. “Ultimately, your father’s recovery is his own responsibility, but a hostile relationship won’t do anything for either of you. He’s still trying to move on from your mother’s death. Just like you’re trying to move on from Dag’s. Give him time.”

The prince let out a sigh and warmed up to Eivor’s embrace, finally cooling off from the heat of his argument with Styrbjorn.

“I... I suppose you’re right.” He conceded, turning to face the younger man. “...Okay, Eivor. I’ll try to make things right. Not just for my father, but also for you. I promise.”

Eivor smiled at that. “Good. It won’t be easy, I know. But it’ll be worth it.”

Sigurd sat up from his position and laid a hand on the Wolf-Kissed’s lap, diverting the focus of their conversation elsewhere.

“Anyway, enough about me. How are you doing, my love? I’m... so sorry about Thora and Ulfar.”

Eivor separated their hug and stared bleakly at the floor, trying to keep himself together.

“...I still can’t believe they’re gone,” he said. “I thought I’d be used to losing people like this after what happened to my parents, but it hurts just as much as it did all those years ago. Only this time, I feel like I could’ve done something. I wish I did.”

A tinge of regret blanketed Sigurd’s face. “Are you angry that I held you back during the holmgang?”

“No,” Eivor answered truthfully. “I know you didn’t mean any harm. You were only trying to preserve Ulfar’s honor, and to be honest, I’m grateful that you did. As much as I wish I could’ve saved that man, I’d feel even worse if he never reached Valhalla. I’m going to miss him more than words can describe, but at least I know he’s at peace now. At least I know he’s reunited with his wife.” A cloud of sorrow fogged the young man’s eyes. “...I just wish I could say the same for Thora.”

Sigurd’s nose crinkled at the memory of discovering Thora’s body. “Gorm is even more of a coward than his father. It’s a shame what he did to her. He will get the punishment he deserves, Eivor. I won’t let him get away with it.”

The Wolf-Kissed found some solace in the prince’s reassurance. “Thank you. I know there’s nothing I can do to bring Thora back, but it seems only fitting that the man who murdered her joins her side in Helheim.”

“And he will. One way or another.”

Standing up from the bed, Eivor straightened his tunic and inched towards the door, preparing to take his leave. He didn’t want to abandon Sigurd’s side just yet, but he also wanted to see how his family was coping before the day came to an end.

“Anyway, I’ll give you some space, Sigurd.” He said, pressing a hand against the door’s surface. “I imagine you probably want to be alone right now, and there are some things I need to take care of before the funeral starts.”

Contrary to his belief however, the prince didn’t seem to share his sentiments. “Actually, I’d like you to stick around a little longer. If you’re willing to stay, that is.”

Eivor halted mid-action, unable to hide his interest. “You would?”

“Your company is one of the few things that offers me peace nowadays, Eivor. If you want to take this conversation further, you’re more than welcome here.”

The blonde viking took a hesitant glance outside the door, still carrying the same concerns he had lugged around for the past two weeks.

“But what if someone finds us? Don’t you think it’ll strike them as odd that I’ve been with you for so long?”

Sigurd let out a fatigued breath, slowly rising from his bed. “...I don’t care anymore. All this death sitting on our doorstep has shown me just how precious life truly is. I have no idea if I’ll even survive this war, Eivor. I’m not going to spend what could possibly be my final days pretending that I don’t feel anything for you.”

He walked up to his companion, leaving no more than a few inches between them. “I love you, Eivor. And I’m not ashamed to say it.”

Eivor froze at the confession and simply stared at Sigurd in silence, entirely at a loss for words. It wasn’t too long ago that the prince nearly tore himself apart trying to keep their affair a secret, and yet, he was practically declaring his love from the top of the world now. He no longer cared about the rumors that would spread, or the judgmental glances he’d receive. He was finally done hiding, and Eivor wondered if it was time he felt the same.

“Forgive me,” the younger man replied, “I... I don’t know what to say. I just never expected to hear you say those words.”

Sigurd chuckled. “Neither did I. I used to berate myself without pause when I first realized I was growing attached to you. I tried so desperately to shift my attention to Randvi for the sake of this alliance, but... it never worked. Things only deteriorated for me, and as a result, my life turned into a never-ending battle. I was miserable.”

Eivor smirked affectionately. “And now?”

Sigurd returned the grin. “Now, I know what I want at last. I can finally see why the gods led me here, and I’m done pushing against this fate that the Nornir have woven for me. I’m done with living a lie. My only question is... do you feel the same?”

The Wolf-Kissed let his hand drop from the door and focused completely on the man in front of him, peering fondly into his eyes.

“Of course I do. You’ve always been there for me ever since you first arrived at Bjornheimr. The circumstances under which we had to meet will forever leave a scar on this clan, but I can say for certain that our encounter was a blessing.” Eivor beamed brightly at the prince, holding his cheek in his palm. “I love you too, Sigurd. And nothing will ever change that.”

Sigurd’s expression radiated with a vibrant joy upon hearing that, and he pulled Eivor even closer to him, gently pushing him against the wall. He pecked a small kiss on the younger man’s neck and held him securely by the waist, allowing himself to forget about his troubles for just a brief moment.

“Then let us cast away the burdens of our struggles for tonight, and cherish our final hours of peace together. The stability of this war is precarious enough as it is. If anything happens to us, I don’t want to leave this world with regrets. Freya gave you to me as a gift the day we met, and I don’t intend to waste it.”

Eivor closed his eyes in bliss and linked his arms around Sigurd, caressing him in his embrace. The prince’s touch soothed his skin like ice on a fresh burn, and for the first time in a while, he was able to let his mind roam free from its continuous torment. The bond they shared was something that provided Eivor with a tranquility unlike anything else, and he silently begged the gods to keep his lover safe.

“From here to Valhalla,” Eivor whispered warmly, “I’ll always be at your side, Sigurd.”

[missskzbiased]

The Three Lessons (3)

Genre: Angst, Romance, Fluff, Witch! Au, Love Triangle

Pairing: Chan X Fem! Reader X Seungmin

Word Count: ~13,8K

(The First) (The Second) (The Third)

Warnings: (Mild) Mentions of [Death, Burned Witches, food, blood/battling(?)]

Notes:  Finally here! Sorry for the delay but I got blocked, then busy and well! At least, it’s finally here! LOL  

I’d like to hear your thoughts on this. If you guys liked the plot/expected the stuff and things like this! Thank you for reading/rb’ing/commenting/sending asks and stuff! <3

Tagging:  @p2q3r4   @thatrandomoneinthecorner

                                                     ////

CHAPTER 3: The Third Lesson

    It has been four months already.

    The fateful night when you ran away from your home ─ Well, your former home ─ still hovered over your thoughts from time to time, haunting you during your day-to-day life activities as baking the bread you were just making, kneading the dough with much more force than needed. The thick and malleable piece slowly sprawled over the counter as you stopped in your tracks, studying how it relaxed on the surface until it didn’t move anymore ─ Soft and still, just like the limp body of your Grandma on the ground ─, and you felt the urge to cry all over again.

       You missed her.

       You raised your head to stop the tears from falling, looking up and blinking multiple times until the urge to cry morphed into crushing regret that tightened your heart by the second, making you sigh heavily before lowering your gaze to the window. The reflection on the glass showed you a gloomy girl with flour painting her cheeks and forehead in a silly way that couldn’t brighten up your mood even if you forced a smile to plaster on her face, so you settled for lowering your eyes to your hands, resting above the bread.

      The flour painted both of your hands white, and for a split of a second, the dusty white turned into a damp red, covering your hands in blood just like that night, sending a shiver down your spine. You were a murderer. The flickering thought vanished as soon as Seungmin’s paled shocked face struck your memories, reminding you how he trembled as he took your hands on his, studying the dry blood on them filled with horror, certain that you have just killed someone.

      You want me to hide a body?! His voice sounded on your mind, making you chuckle and shake your head in amusement. The amusement had dissolved into heartbreak at the time, and you broke into tears, startling the younger boy who rushed you inside, looking around to check if someone had seen anything before closing the door. That night, Seungmin sat with you on the floor, rubbing your hands and face with a wet cloth until the blood ─ that later he came to know that was from your hunt ─ came off of your body, rocking you to soothe you through your breakdown.

       “Hey, Bunny Bun, how is it going?” You turned around to meet the known face of Seungmin’s father, a fine man that allowed you to stay without a second thought ─ which raised a lot of questions from Seungmin, who seemed fixed to the idea that you had enchanted him somehow ─, and had been treating you like a daughter since then. He approached you, tearing off a small piece from the dough and molding it between his palms, pinching it to form two long ears, just like a rabbit before throwing it for you to catch.

       The joke began when you saw a bun for the first time in your life.

        You had looked at him all filled with curiosity, watching as he kneaded the dough, and he chuckled at your antics, glancing at you once in a while before making a bunny out of nowhere and throwing it in your direction, startling you. The way you hopped, catching the piece and smashing it between your hands unintentionally, made him laugh wholeheartedly, studying your sheepish smile before he patted your shoulder reassuringly.

       It’s too soon for bunnies to hop, don’t you think? He joked, knowing that you were too sleepy and your reflexes were nothing but rusty at the time. You laughed at this, and somehow it became your thing… Just making bunny jokes around in the morning as you baked your bun. It felt like you were family, loved and cared for, and truly accepted… Just like the lesson predicted… You were right to stick to your kind.

      “I’m almost done, Mr.Kim!” You said with a small smile, trying to cover up your sadness “We will have some delicious bread for the customers” You promised, resuming your previous actions, starting to tear off the pieces to mold them.

     “I wish Seungmin was an early bird like you” He confessed, chuckling as he stood beside you to help you out with your baking “I’m glad you’re here… You’re very welcome to this family, I hope you know that” He glanced at you, clearing his throat “And… How is it going? Are you both getting along well?” He asked awkwardly, and this time you chuckled, looking at him by the corner of your eyes.

     “We’re just fine, Sir” You guaranteed “We’re acting like cousins just like you instructed and we’ve been getting along pretty well… For about four months already” You smiled, mocking him about his concerns. He smiled back, nodding in understanding and sighing in relief, seeming satisfied by your answer as he molded the loaves of bread far more quickly than you, more used to it, with no concrete pattern, just a bunch of animal-shaped stuff that followed no rules.

    The only rule on the house was not to be romantically involved.

    You could remember your first day at the bakery ─ shaky hands and stiffened body giving away how nervous you were ─ and how you darted your eyes at every customer that came in, alarmed that someone could simply recognize that you were raised by a witch. Silly thought. Seungmin ─ as the sweetest human being on Earth ─ noticed how you were about to combust at any moment and simply stuck together with you, helping you out in absolutely every single thing you did until you got more comfortable.

     It didn’t go unnoticed.

    The moment the old lady ─ a faithful client who you treated by Miss ─ came into the place, she looked at you filled with interest, eyes studying you from head to toe before smiling approvingly. She rested a small box on the counter, tilting her head as she looked into your eyes, before looking at Seungmin with a suggestive look. She braced herself on the counter, looking at Mr.Kim excitedly and gesturing for him to get closer before finally speaking up.

   So little Seungmin finally got a fiancé? I never saw you around! She chuckled, taking your hand between hers. It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m their best customer and also their lucky charm! She joked, patting the back of your hand. You threw her a desperate smile, darting your eyes between her and Mr.Kim before opening your mouth, ready to agree with her to get out of the situation.

    Oh, no! She’s his cousin! He hurried to say as soon as he recovered from his shock. My brother got really ill and… Well, we thought it would be better for her to come live with me instead of staying in her village… He lied, lowering his eyes to fake sadness, though the uncomfortableness was true.

    Oh! I didn’t know you have a brother! She hid her open mouth with her hands, eyes wide as she looked at you surprised before pity took over her. I’m so sorry, Sweetheart… If I knew I would have sent him some of these too... She shook the box in the air, and you could tell something hard was inside it.

    The woman opened the box to reveal two small bottles filled with a flower ─ that you identified as rosemary ─, some thin things that looked like pins and needles and a dark liquid that looked a lot like blood. You frowned, utterly confused by the utility of such a gross thing, yelping as the woman randomly tugged some strands of Seungmin and his father’s hair, tossing it inside each bottle ─ that opened smelled heavily like alcohol mixed with some kind of grape juice ─ before closing them and handing it to each one of them.

    She laughed at your baffled expression, hitting your shoulder lightly as she threw her head back, delighted by you. She got her hands on her hips before tilting her head and looking at you playfully, smiling kindly as she explained that it was a witch-bottle. You frowned again, looking at them cautiously to check if you should know what it was about, and the lady was quick to explain that it was a kind of protection that her family had been doing for ages and having incredible results regarding safety.

    Your uncle is too unlucky, poor thing… To be married to a witch and being cursed to be alone for the rest of his life… She sighed, looking at him filled with pity. At least I can do something about it, right? It’s a pleasure to keep you safe from those monsters! I should make one for you too, Sweetheart! Next month, I will bring it for the three of you!

   You shook your head to get out of your thoughts ─ brushing your hair with your fingers as you reminded how the woman had no mercy to take off those strands from your scalp ─, noticing how Mr.Kim arched his brows in a silent question, chuckling as you shrank as if you had been caught red-handed. You placed the molded pieces on the paddle, pretending you didn’t notice his look, and placing it inside the oven for them to bake.

    The fire painted their surface in an orangish light, and you stood there staring at them, drowning in the knowledge that you would never tell him that you were a witch, just like the one who destroyed his life. He placed his hand on your shoulder, smiling at you and looking proudly at the buns, humming in approval for your teamwork, and you forced a smile back at him before returning your gaze to the fire.

   Maybe one day he’d wish for you to be just like those bunny buns.

                                                                  /////

    You felt small and lost.

    You could recognize the oval square even if you had your eyes closed, having dreamed of it every single day of your life ─ the place where the nameless woman was burned to death ─ but this time there was no stake to be seen and no witch to be burned. The crowded place was bright and noisy; the lively music being played was mixing with the villagers’ chatting and sellers’ yelling, morphing into a loud buzz that bewildered you.

    The swinging pieces of meat hung on the hooks, the fresh smell of fruits and vegetables filling your nostrils, and all other kinds of things to be sold left no doubt: The market was being held.

   You held someone’s hand as you walked, head swiveling to take in everything that was happening around you, feeling overwhelmed as people bumped into you and the mass of fluttering fabrics passed in front of your eyes, darkening the bright place for a while. The feeling didn’t last much, though. The person guiding you finally stopped on a booth, bringing back the brightness and the peace you craved, before letting go of your hand to look for something.

   You lifted your head, fondness spreading in your heart as you looked at them.

   Faceless.

  You didn’t seem to mind it in the dream, catching a citric scent in the air that distracted you, prompting you to look at the booth and extend your hand to pick up the round orange right in front of your eyes. You tried to grab it once, fingers slipping on its peel, and then you used both hands, holding it like if it was your whole world for a few seconds before giggling happily.

  That must be the biggest orange in the world because it didn’t even fit in your hands.

    You played with it a little bit, ignoring the voices above your head and focusing solely on how the texture felt on your palms, groping it and spinning it over and over again as if it would give you some kind of answer. The voices began to sound clearer on the back of your head, sounding upset and assertive, both the seller and your guide quarreling about something you couldn’t understand. The seller snapped, and you caught something like frustration and jealousy in the air before he slammed the surface with anger.

    You got startled, yelping and jumping as you snapped your eyes at the man.

      Then everything happened too fast.

      First, you felt the orange off your palms, floating slightly above them, and you widened your eyes, very aware that it was an unforgivable mistake. Second, the guide’s hand snapped to the fruit, grabbing it in a flustered manner. Third, the man pointed at them, filled with rage and despise.

     Then he roared.

     “She’s a witch!” He accused, and the orange fell to the ground, rolling away “She first seduced the baker, and now this?!” You didn’t know what he meant by this, and neither did the men who came to restrain her out of nowhere, tugging her arms back as she struggled to get away from their grip.

     “He’s lying! It’s a lie!” She yelled in despair, trying to swing her limbs but being brutally held back “I’m not a witch!” She howled, and even if you couldn’t see the tears streaming down her face, you could hear it in her soul. The crowd gasped and cleared the way, terrified and curious, gathering around them to watch the woman being lifted off of the ground; legs kicking and jerking to hit whoever tried to handle her.

   “Take off her boots!” Someone screamed, and the man held her neck, choking her to take her under his control.

   You moved, trying to go closer to her, but someone held your arm firmly ─ though you could feel their hand was trembling in fear ─, and the next thing you know was that her legs were being held tight. They yanked her boots, exposing her bare feet, raising her sole for everyone to see.

   That was the first time you could actually see something in your dreams.

   Crooked whitish scars carved on her feet like high-relief waves.

   She was a witch.

   You felt your blood run cold; the grip on your arm disappeared and you snapped your eyes to the woman, feeling pity wash over you as you realized what was happening. You were seeing how the faceless woman was condemned as a witch, fated to burn to the ground… She looked right into your eyes, the fog that prevented you to see her face wavered in the air, dissolving suddenly and prompting everyone to gasp in shock.

    This was the first time you could see her face.

     Your face.

    You shot your eyes open, gasping for air, realizing someone was hovering over you ─ a blurry face right in front of yours, indistinguishable on your drowsy state ─ and before you could focus your eyes on them, their hands grabbed your shoulders firmly, startling you. They squeezed your shoulders, and you jolted your limbs, waggling them around to guarantee your freedom as you felt the grip tightening around you, their arms shaking your body.

    “No, please!” You bawled, struggling to get away from their hands “Seungmin! Mr.Kim! Help! Help!” You shouted, desperate as you finally got rid of their hands, jolting out of the bed to head to the window, ready to jump out of it and run away. You fumbled to open it, and the person rushed at you, taking you by the waist and pulling you back forcefully.

    “Wait!” Seungmin pleaded, strangled voice sounding in the air like a squeak “What are you doing?! It’s me!” His voice sounded right beside your ears, and for the first time, you tried to really look at him, glancing over your shoulder to meet his eyes right in front of yours. You sighed in relief ─ fear vanishing to give way to tiredness ─ and your relaxed expression morphed into an exasperated one before you hit his chest angrily.

    “What the hell, Seungmin?” You asked upset, uncovering your eyes to shoot him a glare “Who wakes someone up like a bloody ghost haunting the house, you son of a—“ He laughed, hands on his hips as he tilted his head, eyes glinting in mockery.

    “Oh, Seungmin! Help! Help!” He chanted, chuckling as you blushed, looking away in embarrassment “And now you call me names? Spare me!” He smirked, letting you go to sit on your bed before pinching his chin “Did you have a nightmare?” He asked curiously, eyes less playful and more concerned now.

    “What tipped you off?” You teased, walking towards your bed to sit beside him “To tell you the truth, the dream changed…” You muttered, unsure about what to say. It was just a dream, right? Should you bother him with it? You darted your eyes to him before settling them straight ahead “I saw the woman’s face… She was me” You glanced at him, insecure, and he snapped his eyes at you, clearly disturbed by what you had just said.

     “Oh” He bit his lip before lowering his eyes to his hands, intertwined on his lap “I had a dream too and… Well, I saw you at the stake” He glanced at you, and you felt as if the entire world had just stopped. You stared at him, completely expressionless as the shock drenched your mind “But— I mean! You know that my dreams aren’t always clear, right? It can mean literally anything!” He tried to reassure you, and you blinked at him.

    “What else could it mean? You saw me burning at the stake, Seungmin” You stated calmly, though your insides were twisting “My dreams aren’t usually this clear… Someone will accuse me at the market place and I’ll be burned” You stared at him blankly; your features unmatching to the thousand thoughts that ran wild inside your head or the tight knot forming in your throat, making you unable to say anything else.

    An odd feeling of acceptance tried to spread through your body.

    You were going to die.

     That was it.

    “You’re not going to die” He assured you, squeezing your hand in an attempt to soothe you, though his trembling hinted that he wasn’t much better himself “I mean… I had already tons of dreams that didn’t happen for real! It’s just a coincidence… Absolutely no one suspects you right now, not even dad! There is no way—“ You sighed, patting his hand on your lap, looking at him as if you had been already defeated.

    “There is nothing we can do about it” You shrugged “I had this dream every single day of my life, Seungmin… Deep down I knew what was bound to happen” You offered him a small smile, squeezing his hand back “Also, the third lesson is clear as the day… Do not bond with humans, their feelings are flickering as flames and will burn you to the ground” You recited, glancing at him “It’s your fault for loving me, you know?” You joked, and he pushed you lightly.

     “It’s not the time to be funny” He rolled his eyes “Especially when you’re not funny at all” He pointed out, chuckling when you slapped his shoulder playfully “That lesson doesn’t make any sense anyway, our feelings for you are deep and we won’t let you die” He promised, and this time you offered him a real smile, resting your head on his shoulder “You’re part of this family now and I don’t care whatever your grandma taught you before, we’re going to make through this” He rested his head on top of yours, remaining silent for a few minutes.

   The silence was reassuring, and you closed your eyes, breathing deeply.

    “Do you want to stay home today? I can go to the market by myself” He suggested, lifting his head to look at you, and you mimicked him, shaking your head.

    “It’s better to act as usual” You denied “Whatever has to happen will happen, so staying home will not help me at all” He nodded, looking through the window, and you followed his gaze “Will you stay by my side when it happens?” You asked quietly, and he pursed his lips, eyes darkening as he lowered his head.

    “If it happens” He corrected you sternly, and you nodded, holding his gaze in expectation “I won’t let it happen” He stated, averting his eyes and getting up from his bed “Some dreams are just dreams” He guaranteed, faking a smile at you, which you returned with an understanding nod and tight lips.

      Seungmin’s dreams weren’t just dreams.

      Those four months were more than enough for you to know that Seungmin wasn’t a mere human… You didn’t know if he had a witch ancestry, if Nature just seemed to have a liking to him or if the spirit of his deceased mother spoke to him while he slept, but Seungmin had a gift.

      He had premonitory dreams.

      The day he drank from the river was the first time he actually acted on those dreams, intrigued by a woman ─ that not so coincidentally looked just like you ─ calling him to the woods, tracing a path that headed to a precarious village. You were smart enough to assume that it was The Haven, and he was being guided to meet The Coven ─ more specifically you ─ but got lost in the woods, tricked by its enchantments. The dream didn’t show him any rivers but as soon as he found it, all lost and tired, he drank from it and the rest… Well, he was lucky you were around.

    Actually, you were meant to be around.

    Meant to be in each other’s life.

    “Now let’s go! Get your ass out of the bed and let’s shop! Your birthday is coming and I have to buy you a gift, right?” He said in a feigned cheerful tone, interrupting your thoughts, and you nodded, getting up from the bed and picking up your coat ─ Chan’s coat ─ to throw around your own shoulders “Hm… This is kinda old, right?” He asked unsurely, eyeing the coat warily.

     “Well, it’s the only one I have” You chuckled “Also, I know you just don’t like it because it belonged to Chan” You rolled your eyes, arms going through the sleeves to keep you warm. You held each front of your coat, wrapping them tightly around you, drowning in the warmth and the faint smell that reminded you of home ─ former home ─, studying carefully the worn-out brown filled with fondness.

    “He was ready to kill me” He pointed out matter-of-factly, brows raised to make his point “I think I have more than enough of a reason to hold a grudge against him” You laughed wholeheartedly, nodding in agreement “But that’s not the point! The winter is coming and you need to keep warm” You opened your mouth before closing it, holding back a joke about your cruel fate “This coat won’t be enough for you… Maybe I should buy you a new one?” He mused, and you shrugged.

    “I don’t see the point if I have this one” You admitted, and he rolled his eyes, heading to the door to open it and turning back to stare at you unimpressed. The cold weather seemed to freeze your face for a second, making you sneeze and shake your head vehemently to push away the feeling before scrunching your nose repeatedly, looking at Seungmin.

    “See? You’re weak to the winter” He chuckled, throwing his arm around your shoulders playfully, closing the door behind him to head to the oval square. The motion reminded you of how your Grandma used to wrap you in her arms before guiding you into the woods, teasing you about a certain warlock. You sighed, remembering how he just shrugged off that you gave away the very same coat you were wearing right now, even if he had it since he was a child… How he asked you on a date to that very same market you were wandering around.

     “So it’s settled! We’ll buy some fruits for your cake and then we’ll buy your coat” He decided, pleased with his plans, and once more getting you away from your thoughts. You walked side by side, heading to the booth you always bought your stuff from, studying the surroundings to see if you could spot better prices.

     You didn’t.

   But you spotted Caeli.

   That wasn’t the first time that you spotted Caeli on the streets. The Elder had been coming by herself every month ─ probably to buy some groceries to The Coven ─, and each time you followed her with your eyes, wondering why your grandma wasn’t with her. You should know why. You killed her. You lowered your gaze, quickening your pace to be followed by a confused Seungmin, looking around to spot whatever made you like this.

    “Did you see someone from your dream?” He whispered worried, and you shook your head, bumping into someone in your eagerness to reach for the booth “Oh, sorry! We didn’t pay atten—“ Seungmin stopped on his tracks, his apologetic expression morphing into a frown. You raised your head to apologize, and as soon as your eyes met you felt your head spinning. The air seemed to vanish from your lungs, heart bursting inside your chest and lips drying as you widened your eyes, flabbergasted.

     How long! How have you been?

     I’m sorry…

     I miss you.

     “Hi…” You said instead, awkwardly looking at him in a lack for better words “Chan” You added, hugging yourself as you averted your eyes from him, biting your lips. You felt Seungmin’s hold getting tighter, pulling you closer to him as he straightened his back to look somewhat threatening. You peeked at him, confused, before returning your gaze to Chan, who didn’t even spare him a glance, eyes fixed on you for the entire time.

     “Hey” He muttered, holding your gaze for a few seconds before averting his eyes ─ the tension too uncomfortable do bear ─, staring at Seungmin’s hand on your shoulder “You’re using my coat” He mentioned bluntly, unsure about what to say, and you nodded, looking away “The winter… Yeah” He trailed off, cringing at himself.

    Seungmin scoffed before suddenly reaching for your coat, trying to take it off, and you looked at him filled with confusion but complied anyway, extending your arms to help him out. The boy crumpled the coat to form a ball of fabric before pushing it on Chan’s hand, a serious expression on his face as his penetrating gaze fixed on Chan’s eyes in a silent warning. Chan took the coat, bewildered, looking at him questioningly before Seungmin gave him a tight smile.

    “I’m going to buy a new one for her” He announced, waiting for his answer but Chan just stared at him, hands clutching the piece, and jaw clenching before he forced his lips to quirk on an odd smile “You can have it back… Thank you for your coat” Seungmin sounded upset for some reason, and you frowned, feeling lost about what made him act like that.

    “Great” Chan hugged his coat; glancing at you with hurt written all over his face “I’m glad you guys are getting along just fine” He lied, lips quivering to maintain his fake smile “I…” He closed his mouth, looking at you filled with something you couldn’t put your finger on, eyes wavering before he looked away “We miss you” He concluded, clearing his throat before lifting his head.

    I miss you too.

    “It’s already done” You said sympathetically “I’m home now… And you guys are too” You forced a smile, and he nodded, resentful eyes focusing on you “I’m sorry for…” You gulped down, eyes darting away before returning to him “I’m sorry” You trailed off, and he nodded once more, lowering his head again, unable to look at you.

    “Well… I wish you the best” He finally said, refusing to fix his gaze on you, eyes wandering somewhere above your shoulder “I hope you can be happy here… And maybe we can bump into each other again” He chuckled, though it sounded more like a cough, and Seungmin grabbed your shoulder, rolling his eyes as he locked his gaze with Chan.

    “All the three of us know you’re lying” Seungmin pointed out boldly, surprising both of you “Don’t give her false hopes if you won’t act on your words…” He scoffed, looking away as he poked his cheek “You could have done something! You’re just a coward that would let her –“ You grabbed Seungmin’s wrist, throwing him a look so he would stop talking, and he bit his lip, looking at you distressed.

   The silence fell heavy upon you.

   The three of you glanced at each other, unsure about what to do now. Seungmin crossed his arms, clenching his jaw before uncrossing his arms and clenching his fists on each side of his body, nose scrunching slightly as he looked at Chan. You darted your eyes between them, tightening your grip around his wrist and clutching his sleeve with your free hand, concern written all over your face. Chan twisted his lips down, focusing on your hands on Seungmin’s arm for a second before he averted his eyes, furrowing his brows in a pained expression, upper lip trembling slightly.

     “Chan! I think I found something interesting!” Caeli called, and the three of you snapped your heads at her, the tension shattering for a moment “Oh…” She blurted, looking at you, but before she could say anything else Chan strode her way without looking back. He placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly before he walked straight ahead, and she held your gaze for a few seconds, conflicted, before giving up and following him.

     “What was that all about?” You asked upset, releasing Seungmin from your grip in a rough motion, eyes aimed at him accusatorily. He kept his eyes on the path they traced, frowning, before he finally turned them to you, grimacing unsatisfied as he looked into your eyes seeming bitter about it all.

     “He’s a coward” He spat angrily “He doesn’t deserve you” He added, locking his arm with yours so you could continue your shopping “All of them… They could have done something” He sighed “They just chose to do nothing” He said, looking at you resentfully, eyes holding so much sadness that it just clicked.

     They would just watch as you burned.

                                                                       /////

      At first, you thought you were hearing voices.

      You shoved your hands into your new coat’s pockets, nodding as Seungmin kept blabbering about how he helped his father to bake your birthday cake, feeling all proud because it turned out to be pretty tasty and he was sure you would love it. You laughed wholeheartedly, congratulating him for finally being able to wake up before you, excitedly guessing what Mr.Kim would be fixing for lunch as you made your way back home. The conversation flowed well enough until you heard your grandma’s voice resounding inside your head, prompting you to look around the place, confused with the situation.

      Maybe you were just hearing things.

      Eighteen years, put some sense into your head! You shot your eyes up, alarmed, head snapping at Seungmin to search for any signs that he heard it too but he kept guessing the dishes, completely oblivious to the voice. It’s not the time to play house! It’s dangerous! She yelled, clearly upset, and you stopped in your tracks, head swiveling to see if you could spot her in the crowd but she was nowhere to be seen.

     Of course, she wasn’t… She was dead.

     “… Or maybe he bought those potatoes to –“ He interrupted his train of thoughts abruptly, glancing at you, noticing that you seemed too far away from your conversation right now “Everything okay? You look like a ghost” He pointed out, nudging you so you would look at him and voice your concerns.

     They will burn her at the stake! You winced under the intensity of her tone, ducking your head into your shoulders as you looked slowly to left and then to right, getting a look from Seungmin, who seemed to think that you had lost your last straw of sanity.

     “Did you hear it?” You whispered, and he looked at you as if you had grown a third head “It’s… Her voice” You muttered, grabbing his shoulder to get some support, feeling your legs going weak “I think Wiha is alive… And I think she’s here” You felt a lump in your throat, obliging you to force the words to come out as you felt the world spinning around.

      You stumbled over your feet but Seungmin quickly adjusted himself to catch you by the waist, hand darting to cup your cheek as he tried to catch your gaze, searching for some sign that you were still here with him. You opened and closed your mouth a bunch of times ─ a string of voice coming out from you but no sentences being said ─, worrying him by the second and prompting him to shake you lightly to get you out from your stupor.

     “She’s dead” He assured you, patting your face continuously to get your attention “It must have something to do with your memories… You said yourself that your birthday could worsen it” He reminded you, tone careful and eyes attentive on your figure. You nodded, finally focusing your gaze on him, the dryness on your throat still making you unable to answer him.

     She’s gonna die just like her! Is that what you want, son?! She yelled on your head, and this time dizziness wasn’t the only thing you felt. The feelings boiling inside your chest didn’t have a name or a form in your head; it was only a mix of sensations that fogged your mind and spun your stomach, prompting you to clench your fists and your jaw as you felt the resentment burning into your body before dissolving into anger.

     Don’t you dare to blame me! It was your fault for being a coward! You widened your eyes as Mr.Kim’s voice sounded inside your head; snapping your eyes to Seungmin and slapping his chest lightly a bunch of times to get his attention, making him whine and try to get away from you.

   “She’s with your father” You stated, gasping as you looked at him flabbergasted before sprinting. He couldn’t even react as you ran for dear life, leaving the startled boy behind for a few moments before he mimicked you, running the best he could. You ran as if your life depended on it ─ lungs burning and muscles screaming for some mercy as you forced yourself not to cry, putting a lot more effort into your sprint than necessary ─, without even noticing how the wind startled to whistle around you.

      The gale built up quickly ─ just like the turmoil inside you ─, and suddenly things around you startled to twirl in the air as your hair whipped your face vigorously, and the torrent of thoughts stormed inside your head. There were so many questions you had to make! So many things you had to know! You couldn’t believe she was alive! She had been alive for four months while you thought you were some kind of murderer!

      How was she?!

     Why didn’t she contact you earlier?!

     Why wasn’t she contacting you now?

     Why was she yelling at your host instead of looking for you…?

      Four months… Four months to tell you that you weren’t a murderer… Four months and none of them told you anything. They just kept you in the dark like… Like you weren’t one of them anymore. Well, you kinda got yourself into it. That was what you asked for after all… You didn’t think you belonged there anymore and, clearly, they didn’t think it either.

       So why was she here?

       I wasn’t being a coward! I was protecting The Coven! I was protecting my family! She sounded distressed, voice overflowing with anger and frustration as she roared each sentence as if she had said it a million times already ─ maybe to convince herself or maybe to convince someone else ─ and still couldn’t get it across. You kept your pace, stumbling over your feet as you spotted your house ahead, ignoring Seungmin’s screams for you to slow down and giving everything you had inside you to get there, to finally see her with your own eyes once more.

     Protecting your family?! I’m your family, mother! You should be protecting my wife! You should be protecting your granddaughter! He howled as soon as you reached the front door. You froze, hand on the doorknob and eyes wide as saucers as you let your mouth fall agape, breathing sharply “If you can’t recall it, she died! She died because instead of saving her you chose to kidnap my daughter and leave my wife to burn at the stake! You chose them! And you can’t blame me for choosing her now!” He grunted, his voice raising by the second.

     It was like everything inside you had just stopped the middle way.

     The wind around you seemed to flinch, the heavy silence that followed its previous buzz made your head empty, almost like you were too hollow to even sense anything right now. You trembled from head to toes, hands fumbling to turn the doorknob and finally give you access to your living room as you dragged your feet, forcing yourself in. Empty. You felt your heart racing in your chest; the flickering thoughts on your mind accused you of a million things but the only one you could hold on to for the time being was that you were crazy.

       You must be crazy.

      “Do you think that was what I wanted?” She muttered; voice faltering, too heavy with the weight of her regret “If not her it would be all of us, son… My duty wasn’t with her… It was with all of us” She continued, and this time you could tell the voices came from the kitchen, letting out a relieved sigh “I must protect all of us even if it means someone has to be left behind” You heard Seungmin right next to you, and you snapped your head to him, a finger placed on your lips asking for some silence, getting a confused tilting of the head from the boy.

    “Interesting thing that the only one you wanted to leave behind was a human” He scoffed, and Seungmin shot his head up, following your gaze to the kitchen as he heard the grudge on his father’s voice “Interesting that you didn’t leave my daughter behind! You took her away from me! And for what?!” He yelled, smacking the table before breathing deeply, trying to recompose himself “Look, it’s not my fault you couldn’t take care of her… You failed, mom” He sighed tiredly at the same time you and Seungmin peeked over the doorframe “You failed at protecting every single one of us… And now she’s with me… My bunny bun came back to me and I won’t let you take her away again” The flickering figure of your grandmother faced Mr.Kim filled with resentment, face contorted on a hurt grimace that even the low-quality energy projection couldn’t hide.

     You felt Seungmin flinching right next to you.

     You felt your knees giving away as you supported yourself on the doorframe.

     You felt like the entire world just disconnected from your body.

     “I will do what you never could… I’ll protect my family” He announced, oblivious to both of his children flabbergasted at the door, and you brought your hand to your chest, feeling all the air vanishing from your lungs “Now tell Isati to stop this goddamn projection and stop bothering me!” He continued, and not even Seungmin’s hold was enough for your legs to support you “I have a birthday to spend with my daughter for the first time in sixteen years and you won’t take this away from me again” You fell on your knees, the loud thud finally getting their attention.

      Their eyes snapped at your figure on the floor, alarmed.

      Seungmin kneeled beside you, trying to hold your shoulders to convey some kind of comfort as he stole some glances at both of the figures standing in the kitchen, taken aback by everything he had just listened to. You lifted your wavering eyes to Wiha’s figure, opening and closing your mouth at a loss for words, before glancing to Mr.Kim ─ your father ─ with tears streaming down your face, shrinking, your whole body shaking in shock as you tried to make sense of everything you just heard.

      Wiha kidnapped you and took away your memories.

      Mr.Kim was your father and he hid it from you.

      Your mother was burned at the stake.

     “My dreams… They’re about my mother? It was never about me? ” You asked on a string of voice, eyes fixed on the floor as the realization hit you “Why?” You grunted, lifting your eyes to glare at them, enraged “Why did you hide it from me?! Why?!” You howled, clenching your fists as you smacked the floor, face twisted in disgust “It was my fault, wasn’t it?!” You yelled, getting up, snapping your head at your father before looking at Wiha “She died because of me, didn’t she?! You hid it from me because I was the one to blame, wasn’t it?!” You demanded to know when you met their silence, scoffing as they stared at you speechless.

     “We don’t know” Wiha rushed to say but your father snorted incredulously.

     “She didn’t do anything” He hissed, glaring at her “It wasn’t her fault!” She looked at him tiredly, and you noticed for the first time how she seemed to have aged on these past few months everything she didn’t on this past few years “It wasn’t her fault! You don’t know what happened!” He insisted, and this time she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

     “Neither do you” She stated matter-of-factly “The only one who knows what happened now is her” She looked at you, and you couldn’t help but grimace, laughing humorlessly as if she had said a great joke.

     “Yeah, if you hadn’t taken away my memories!” You sneered, and she nodded in resignation. You groaned, pulling your hair in frustration before letting it go and glaring at her “And you don’t even care! Why the hell are you here anyway?! You don’t care about me! You don’t care about your son! You didn’t care about my mother! You don’t care about anyone!” You yelled, gesturing exasperatedly as you let all your rage unravel “You only care about yourself and your damn lessons and that damn coven!” You groaned, feeling the tears coming back to your eyes.

     “Y/N, calm down” She demanded, looking around worriedly “You’re gonna get unwanted attention” She warned, watching how the wind started to twirl again, the gale forming against your will and lifting the furniture that smashed on the walls and crushed in smaller pieces that kept hitting everything around.

    “Y/N, calm down!” You scorned, a mocking tone that dripped sarcasm “Y/N, don’t forget the lessons!” You sing-sang, scoffing “Y/N, do this! Y/N, do that! Y/N, listen to me!” You howled, clenching your jaw as you tried to stop your tears, punching the doorframe so the pain would bring your mind back in place “I’m not your puppet! You can’t play with me forever!” You screamed, glaring at her “I won’t go back to you! Try kidnapping me again and erasing my memories if you’re so worried about me!” You laughed, pressing your eyes to calm down.

    “I did what was best for all of us” She croaked “I was protecting you! I’m trying to protect you now” She assured, eyes prickling with tears “Please, calm down… They will come to check on you… They will see it” She gestured around “You’re gonna burn” She wailed, approaching you.

    “So they’re gonna burn with me” You hissed “We can only have two culprits… It was either me or them, right? So let us both burn to death” You decided, eyes overflowing with rage as you made your way outside. You ignored their voices behind you, asking you to calm down, and their attempts to get closer to you to hold you back, feeling all the turmoil inside you oozing from each pore of your body in an outburst you never had before.

     The wind around you clicked and crackled on your ears, engulfing you on an endless twirling and pushing everything away, clearing your way as you headed to the oval square. The villagers ran around the place ─ terrified of your figure slowly raising from the ground, supported by the whirlwind under your frame ─, and some of them were brutally wiped by the turmoil, crashing against the floor or the walls and falling unconscious to the ground, enticing screams and cries for help all around.

     “Y/N, stop it!” You heard Seungmin scream on top of his lungs, trying to fight the wind wall that pushed him away “You have to calm down!” He continued but you didn’t pay any attention to his pleads, raising your hand to hit people with a huff of air “You’re better than that! Don’t do it!” He begged, and this time you glanced at him, watching as he squirmed under your powers.

    “They don’t deserve my mercy!” You roared, gesticulating vehemently to keep the wind whipping everyone around, tossing people away “They killed and hunted us for ages!” You added, grunting, snapping your head around to look for new targets “It’s their time to suffer! It’s their time to die!” You cried, raising yourself even more to get a better look around the place.

     Terror was all you could see.

    A giggle resounded on your right ─ soft and distant like a twinkling fairy ─, and you snapped your head, reaching out to take down whoever was taking your rage lightly but meeting no one in sight. You swiveled your head, searching for the source of these giggles but everytime you blasted your power in their directions, there was no one on the receiving end of your fury. You gestured blindly to hit them, flustered by the situation as you couldn’t spot anyone apart from the people who were already in the ground, whimpering.

    Hey, Bunny Bun! The voice faltered, thin like a string in the air, and for the first time, you met someone in your sight. Hop, hop to the hole! It’s time to go home, let’s go! The wavering image showed your father laughing, offering his hand to someone behind him that you couldn’t see. The giggles sounded once more, even more distant this time, and the scene dissolved into the air as if it never displayed in front of you, to begin with.

    You stumbled over your whirlwind, losing your balance for a split of a second.

    It’s too soon for bunnies to hop! A woman groaned jokingly, and you turned around to see her running your way, obviously pretending to put some effort into it to catch someone right in front of her, enticing once more the giggles. You faltered once more, body almost falling to the ground as you lowered yourself, wind flickering around you as if it was about to give in at any moment.

     It felt like your head was about to explode.

    Mom! You turned around once more but there was nothing to be seen, just the screaming voice cracking at the end, choked by their own emotions. They sounded miserable and hurt, and you could almost hear their struggle as they repeated it over and over again before a whisper caught your attention.

    Sleep…The buzzing inside your mind could either be because of those voices or from the enchantment you could hear clearly on the air, the raspy tune from your Grandmother scratching the back of your mind, just like a memory you couldn’t really recall but you tried to. Somehow, you just knew in the bottom of your heart what it was about… It was from the day she kidnapped you… The day your mother was burned.

    It was all the air inside your lungs just vanished right there.

    The twirling wind sounded like a whistling kettle, taking over your senses and overwhelming you, and the endless turmoil inside your chest seemed to take your breath away, forming a lump on your throat and suffocating you. The sound of the giggles and voices kept playing on a loop inside your mind, sounding softer and even more distant by the second, almost like you were losing your consciousness, slowly sliding to your death. The dizziness overtook your senses, and before you knew it, the darkness engulfed you and dragged you down on a spiraling endless fall.

     You were going to burn to the ends of hell.        

                                                                      ////

      The slap on your face brought you back to life.

      The darkness dissolved into blurriness as you opened your eyes, duplicated images jumbling right in front of you and making it impossible to figure out what was happening at first. You felt your head heavy, hanging to the side before you could try to straighten up but failing as it hung forward with a bob, startling you. You tried to adjust your vision, blinking repeatedly as you widened and rolled your eyes, feeling your head spinning while hearing an endless ringing in your ears.

     You felt like a piece of trash.

     The next thing you realized was that your limbs were bent back, tied around a wood pillar, immobilizing you in an uncomfortable position that gave freedom only to your head. You tried to jerk your shoulders, a vain attempt to release yourself, and not only your weak motions weren’t enough to free you but also your bad behavior was met with a harsh blow on your stomach. You hunch your back by reflex, the restraints holding you in place and pressing against your tender flesh, hurting you.

     The pain helped to awaken your senses.

     “By the power vested in me!” Someone’s voice rang in your mind, yelling to the crowd, and you finally got to turn your head, staring blankly at them “I declare this woman as guilty of witchcraft and wizardry!” He announced, and the crowd cheered, croaking and growling before the man raised his hands in a silent ask to continue, “The witch may pay for her sins burning at the stake!” He declared, and the hooraying increased.

   You lowered your head, meeting the straw around your feet on the wooden platform where you were standing, displayed like a piece of meat to be roasted. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, sighing as you took everything in. You were going to die ─ just like in Seungmin’s dream ─, and it was your entire fault. The emptiness you felt that day drenched into your bones once more, and the sudden realization that there was nothing more ahead of you burbled in your chest as a mix of relief and despair, morphing into overwhelming hopelessness.

    The end of the line… It felt much creepier than you thought.

    “Does the witch have anything to say on her behalf?” The man asked you with judging eyes, and it was obvious that he didn’t care about anything you had to say. You scoffed, lifting your head and roaming your eyes through the crowd, meeting their disgust and the yearning glint to see you burn to ashes before finding your father and brother’s watery eyes.

    Both of them stood right there in front of you with agonized eyes searching for yours, and their face twisted in a frown, overwhelmed with regret and the pain of losing you. The brief moment seemed to awaken Seungmin’s anger, and he howled and protested, trying to get closer to you, but your father was quick to hold him back, restraining him as he struggled to free himself. You watched how he wailed and cried, his efforts to fight for his freedom decreasing before he turned his back at you, crying on your father’s shoulder. You watched as your father sucked his lower lip, holding Seungmin for dear life as he watched you displayed there, eyes filled with fear of losing not only you but also Seungmin.

   You felt the pity wash all over you.

   Pity for your father who would witness his loved ones burning not once but twice.

   Pity for your brother who had his hands tied down and couldn’t help you as he wanted.

   Pity for yourself who would burn for being too reckless.

  “Well, if the culprit doesn’t have anything to sa—“ He continued but you were fast to interrupt him, trying to fix a smile on your face as you looked straight into your father’s eyes.

    “It’s too soon for bunnies to hop” Your voice faltered, and you cursed yourself, trying to ignore the obvious quivering on the corner of your lips as you smiled to him “I’ll hop straight home…” You felt your eyes watering and you looked up to hold your tears back before returning your gaze to him, brows twitching for a second “… Into mom’s arms” You concluded, feeling the lump on your throat getting thicker but refusing to let him see your tears.

     The priest didn’t seem as touched as you, gesturing to the man beside you to set the straw under your feet on fire and making you inhale sharply, closing your eyes to wait for your cruel destiny. The warmth enveloped your feet ─ emanating slowly to your body as a warning that prompted you to open your eyes and fix your gaze on the dancing flames ─, creeping in an insufferable pace as if it was slowly welcoming you to your fate.

    The casting glow hurt your eyes and the constant howling and growling from the crowd seemed to make its way to your brain, reminding you of your dreams ─ the way the flames engulfed your mother’s body as she screamed her lungs out in agony ─, and flipping a switch inside you. It was like you suddenly realized you were going to die. The flames crackled and suddenly licked your body for a split of a second, making you jolt your feet away just to be brutally held back by the restraints, and that was it.

     You were going to burn.

     The realization made you wriggle ─ wrestling against the ropes that firmly held your body on the stake ─ and the fierce struggling just served to bury the ropes on your flesh, hurting and marking you. You widened your eyes as the flames rose once again, practically mocking your efforts to get away from this, as you intensified your struggling, jerking your limbs for dear life and begging for mercy as you bawled just like your mother did, crying and wailing to anyone who would want to hear.

     The next minute was a mess.

     First, you whimpered as you closed your eyes shut and tried to force your powers out of you in hope that the wind could shut down the flames and release you. The attempt was met with an unbearable wave of exhaustion through every fiber of your body that made you tremble, feeling drained out from your earlier outburst. The only hope you had vanished just like this, leaving your head spinning and your limbs limp as the flames scorned you once again.

    Second, you heard a roar ─ a powerful war cry that spread around as a blast of wind sweeping everything ─ that made you raise your head to meet whoever was yelling like this, ready to save you. The male voice was followed by a few female ones that sounded wild and furious, and as you heard the loud “Enough!” that baffled everyone, you met his eyes. The dark brown eyes buried into yours filled with fierce determination and something else, softer, that made your heart skip a beat.

     Third, the girls that walked beside Chan threw their spears with terrific accuracy, taking advantage of his blast to boost their attacks. The spears impaled the priest and the executioner’s head at the same time the flames under your body vanished with the wind, and you didn’t try to look behind you to see their bodies lying on the floor. They didn’t even wait for their weapon to hit them ─ confident enough on their habilities ─, ordering their allies around and taking the lead.

    The Coven was here for you.

    You could only watch as some familiar faces ─ such as The Elders and their children ─ and some unfamiliar ones ─ all of them armed females with a feral aura ─ charged towards the crowd filled with determination and resentfulness. The villagers didn’t seem more pleased than your allies, and as soon as they realized the situation, the counterattack was put into action, resulting in a fierce battle between both parts, though pretty unbalanced.

    You observed as Seungmin and your father sprinted to get to the stairs that gave access to your platform, eager to release you from the stake, but some of the villagers seemed to have the same idea. You were quite sure they weren’t really interested in saving you, though. They fought in the stairs, changing their goal of release you to prevent anyone from reaching and hurting you. The anxiety took over you, and you started to roam your eyes through the crowd, searching for someone who could help you get rid of your ties.

    “Don’t use more force than necessary!” You could hear your Grandma yell, and you followed her with your eyes as she grabbed several faces by the minute, putting everyone she could touch to sleep. The Earthy Elder appeared out of nowhere by her side, laughing maniacally as she buried her hands to the ground, making the earth shake and knocking down some villagers. She twisted her hands and suddenly the ground turned into quicksand that swallowed people slowly “Yerkir!” Wiha hissed, throwing her quick warning look.

    “What?! I’m not even touching them!” She yelled in amusement, laughter sounding in the air in contrast with the screams and growls around her “Dinta! Behind you!” Yerkir snapped her eyes to the side, and you followed her gaze, stunned to meet an old lady dodging a sharp blow aimed at her head without even looking back, lowering her torso and turning back in one quick motion. She didn’t take more than a second to fix her gaze on her attacker before skillfully raising her hand and burying her blade into the man’s neck as if it was nothing, averting her trained eyes to look for a new prey.

     She looked ferocious.

     “Watch out!” You heard Changbin yelling right in front of you, and for a brief moment, you thought you were screwed, turning your head around to spot your aggressor but the blow never came as no one was beside you. You returned your gaze to him to see him ramming into some a random villager by the shoulder, taking him to the ground before raising his gaze to one of the girls that accompanied Chan earlier “Looks like I got your back” He smiled teasingly at her.

      She adjusted her longbow in a quick motion, positioning her feet quickly to get some stance before nocking and setting her arrow, drawing the bowstring and resting her fingers on her cheek as she aimed right into Changbin’s face. He paled, widening his eyes and raising his hands in defeat but the girl grinned, tilting the bow to the side and releasing the arrow that flew directly to a man behind Changbin, going through his flesh and getting him to the ground, his improvised weapon falling from his hand.

     “Now we’re even” She snorted, and you could see the smugness oozing from her as she lowered her bow before looking at you, arching her brow “Prince charming didn’t come to help you out yet?” She sneered, jumping on the platform effortlessly ─ though the height wasn’t really negligible ─ and looking around the crowd to spot anything concerning.

    “Y/N!” Chan chirped, propelling his body with some wind to jump on the platform, rushing to your side, and resting his forehead on yours, cupping your cheeks ever so gently as he sighed in relief before looking deeply into your eyes. It wasn’t the best moment to feel embarrassed but feeling the warmth of his hold on you after so long made your heart race, and you felt your face burning as his thumbs rubbed circles on your cheeks.

    “Cut out the crap” She scoffed, and you could see in the corner of your eyes how she frowned with disgust as she took a knife out of nowhere, heading behind you and gripping your wrists to chop the ropes and release your hands. You fell forward, tangling your arms around Chan’s neck for some support, and he promptly moved his hands to your waist, trying to balance you as the girl squatted to chop the lower ropes, releasing your legs, “All ready” She said, dusting her hands after she sheathed the knife.

     “Can you stand?” Chan asked thoughtfully, helping you to place your feet on the floor. You felt your knees giving out as soon as you touched the ground, unable to feel anything as your legs were completely numb. He held you tightly, bringing your body closer to his before placing a kiss on your temple, “That’s okay, I’m here for you” He whispered soothingly, returning one of his hands to your cheek.

     “That’s enough, Prince Charming” She grimaced, scrunching her nose as she looked both of you from head to toes, disgusted “We have to take her away from here and—“ She started to say but Seungmin’s terrified scream interrupted her and got you snapping your head to him, startled. He fell to the floor, butt thudding on the platform as he stumbled over his feet trying to get away from the girls that held their knives up, prepared to kill them without a second thought.

    “They’re friends!” You yelled at the same time your father fell to the floor, just like Seungmin, reaching out for them as you tried to disengage from Chan to jolt their way to help them out. The motion was useless since you still couldn’t feel your legs, and as you fell to the ground ─ unable to stand up ─ you gathered all your remaining energy to give the last blow, managing to get a blast of air out of your palms to knock the girls down the stairs.

     You didn’t even feel your face hitting the floor as you passed out.

                                                                            /////

    You woke up with a terrible headache.

    You opened your eyes, staring at the blurry ceiling upon you as you felt your head throbbing, sighing in relief as you realized that you were back home. Although you still couldn’t see clearly, you would recognize the wooden beam and the lazy vines that hovered over your head throughout your entire life anywhere, even with your eyes closed. The familiar surroundings soothed you, and Vivi untangled herself from the beams to poke you playfully, making you giggle and try to push her away.

    Your hand didn’t move an inch.

    You looked down your arms, noticing the leaves that wrapped your forearms before locking your eyes with two hands holding yours, feeling your heart skip a beat. Chan was sitting on the floor in a clearly uncomfortable position that would gift him with a terrible backache in the future; his head rested on the mattress, plump lips brushing your knuckles as a trickle of drool glistened on the corner of his lips. You chuckled; studying how his fingers intertwined with yours and feeling your heart swell as he mumbled something in his sleepy state, nuzzling your hand before falling silent again.

     You reached out for his hair, gently playing with his locks as you patted his head, smiling when you noticed the corner of his lips twitching, almost like he was giving a smile of his own. You brushed his hair away from his forehead to get a better look at his face, staring at his peaceful features. You couldn’t help but admire his beautiful long eyelashes adorning his eyes, his blond wavy locks that framed his face, and his soft traits that gave him an angelic aura.

      He was ethereal.

      The endearing moment was broken by someone clearing their throats, and you snapped away from your daydreaming, darting your eyes around the place to meet the source of this new sound. You met your father’s eyes, his amused smirk was somewhat mocking, and he arched a brow at you before staring at the boy that held his little girl’s hand. You felt your face burning and the urge to pull your hand away, but you didn’t, choosing to stare back at him as you waited for him to say something.

      “He’s a good boy” He stated simply, returning his gaze at you “He stood up all night to take care of you… He even plastered some ointment on your bruises and bandaged you with these leaves” He got up from the chair, adjusting Seungmin’s head to lay on the wall as he did so, walking your way and fixing Chan’s coat around his shoulders “I told him you would wake up by the morning but I guess young love is not only blind but also deaf” He chuckled, and you hid your face behind your free hand.

    “Please” You whined embarrassed, and he laughed wholeheartedly. You smiled at him, enjoying the sound of his laughter and looking fondly at him before your smile dissolved into a frown and you averted your eyes, an unsettling feeling inside your chest. He looked at you questioningly, and you bit your lip before returning your gaze at him “Why didn’t you tell me that I was your daughter? Did you know all along?” You asked curiously and yet hurt, getting a resigned sigh from him.

    “You know? When Seungmin first came home with this coat…” He touched the fabric over Chan’s shoulder, smiling nostalgically at it “Your mother gave me this as a gift for helping her… She didn’t want to stay with The Coven but she couldn’t simply go to another village without a single thing… It would be really suspicious and dangerous, so Wiha brought her to me because… Well…” He trailed off, flourishing his fingers right upon Chan’s face.

    You gasped when the air wavered around him, revealing a completely different face.

    “I could help her to go unnoticed” He explained, gesturing to interrupt his enchantment “Anyway, I knew you were around when he came back with it, and then a couple of days after you appeared in my living room” He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest “You look just like your mother… I had no doubts you were my daughter” He admitted, and you frowned, lowering your gaze.

    “So why didn’t you tell me?” You insisted to know, and he walked to the other side of your bed, sitting there before holding your free hand, looking into your eyes filled with regret.

    “I was afraid… What if it pushed you away? I didn’t know what Wiha did to you throughout all those years… What if you thought I was the enemy? What if you hated me? What if you couldn’t handle this? I had just gotten you back… I didn’t want to lose you again” He sighed, averting his eyes “I’m sorry… I should have known better” He caressed your cheek, and you leaned against his palm, closing your eyes.

    Could you really blame him?

    You didn’t think so.

    The door creaked as it was being opened, revealing your Grandma behind it ─ head ducking into her shoulder and uneasy eyes darting between both of you ─, bringing a heavy silence that fell upon you three uncomfortably. Your father straightened his back before getting up, clearing his throat and rubbing his nape as your Grandma shifted her weight from left to right, building enough tension to cut with a knife. You felt your body stiff as you tried to think about what to say, gulping down as you glanced over your father before returning your gaze to your Grandma.

    “I think you need to talk” Your father stated kinda wary, pursing his lips “And I probably should go help out there” He mumbled, heading to the door. The Elder stepped aside to let him pass, following him with her gaze before sighing and lowering her head, closing the door behind her and sauntering your way, sitting beside you. The silence that settled between you two was uncomfortable, and both of you stood there, staring at each other before she cleared her throat, decided to break the ice.

   “I didn’t mean to… I was trying to protect you” She muttered, looking at you “I guess all I did was push you towards the danger… I’m sorry” She had sincerity in her eyes, and her lips twisted down ─ hinting how ashamed she felt for everything she did ─ eyes wavering to hold your gaze “I couldn’t save your mother… The Coven was establishing itself at the time… It was five of us and a bunch of kids to take care of” She sighed, lowering her gaze to the floor “I know it’s no excuse for what I’ve done but at the time it seemed like the only logical choice…” Her voice faltered, and you tilted your head, looking at her filled with pity.

    “That’s a lot to take in” You admitted, sighing heavily “You lied to me throughout my whole life… You stole me from my home and you erased all my memories…” She tightened her lips, eyes watering as she nodded, expecting your answer though you could see she was hurt “… And yet I missed you every day of these four months” She snapped her head up, looking taken aback by your input “I love you, Grandma” You smiled at her, and this time she let some tears fall from her eyes, emotional “And with time, we’ll be able to get through this” You promised.

    “I love you too” She said, rolling her eyes up to look at the ceiling as she wiped her tears quickly, pretending to be allergic to something as she sniffed, rubbing her nose and averting her eyes from you. She fought back a smile, rubbing her eyes once more and nodding in acknowledgment “And I can give your memories back if you want… I kept them close to you just in case” She chuckled, looking up. You followed her gaze, arching your brows in surprise.

    “Vivi?!” You widened your eyes, flabbergasted “You’re kidding me!” You stared at the vines, amazed by the possibility of getting your memories back and remember every day you spent with your mother and your father as a kid. You reached for Vivi, caressing her as you thought about all the things you would get back, all of your memories with your family… All the jokes, all the cuddling, all the laughter… All the love.

    “The only thing is…” She trailed off, staring at Vivi with unfocused eyes “The only motive she’s alive is to keep your memories” She tried to explain, pursing her lips “She’ll die as soon as you get them back” She added, approaching the vines to caress them with such fondness that it made you wonder for a moment.

   “There are things that I feel like I need to know… Things I want to remember” You admitted, studying the lovely vine tangling on your grandma’s hand fondly of her “So much must have happened in two years… There are so many memories I wish to get back…” You felt a lump forming on your throat as you reached out for Vivi, caressing the vines as the guilt sank into your body.

   Chan nuzzled your hand, mumbling something in his sleep, and interrupting your train of thoughts. He whined, hands letting go of yours to rub his lower back as he frowned in pain, scrunching his nose and lifting his head from the bed. He groaned, hands going to his neck now as he stretched his neck in a circular motion, muttering something under his breath and finally opening his eyes, still sleepy.

    “I mean… I have plenty of ways to get new memories to cherish now too” You smiled fondly, studying his bloated face in amusement. He rubbed his eyes and groaned once more, pressing his cheeks to try to feel more awake, making you chuckle. The bed shifted as your Grandma got up, prompting you to look at her. She had twinkling eyes and a knowing smirk plastered on her face as she nodded in acknowledgment, dusting her clothes off.

    “Well, take your time to decide what you want to do” She reassured you, averting her eyes to Chan before giggling, “I think I should go help the others too… We have a lot to discuss with all the ruckus in the village” She headed to the door, throwing a last look over her shoulder “He didn’t stop thinking about you once throughout all those months… Just saying, in case he trails off” She chuckled, closing the door behind her.

    You couldn’t believe your Grandma… You stared blankly at the door, blinking a couple of times before you averted your eyes to Chan, dumbfounded, noticing the way his ears seemed to be on fire. You felt your heart racing as he opened his mouth to say something but closed it right after, looking away from you and rubbing his nape, embarrassed. He didn’t look like he was sleepy anymore but he looked just as lost as when he opened his eyes, and somehow you found it endearing.

    “Good morning, handsome warlock” You joked, and you enjoyed the way his face flushed in a bright red, which made you chuckle “So a bird told me your head is all filled with me…” You said on a sing-song tune, holding back your smile when he groaned, hiding his face behind his hands. You stared at him, wondering how he could be this shy after holding you and flirting like he had been before you ran away.

    “Good morning…” He answered as if he had been defeated, getting up from the floor and glancing at you shyly “How are you feeling?” He asked, ignoring his own embarrassment for a moment to reach out for your forearms, inspecting your bandages “Does it still hurt?” He pressed your arms with a little bit more strength than before, and you shut your eyes closed, hissing.

   “Stop it!” You whined, and he immediately let go of your arms, chortling when you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest “I’m feeling just fine!” You grumbled, and he sat beside you, smiling at you as if he thought you were the most amusing thing in this world. You sat on your bed, intertwining your fingers as you stole some glances at him, suddenly feeling shy with his presence so close to you “I… Thank you… For saving me” You floundered, gulping down and fixing your gaze on your hands laying on your lap.

    “I don’t think I deserve this… All of us worked together” He shrugged, though you could see how his cheeks were dusted with pink “I… Well… So…” He stuttered, clenching his fists on his lap as he tried to say whatever he wanted to say to you, prompting you to rest your hand on his leg to reassure him “You’re eighteen now!” He blurted on a high pitched tone, eyes snapping to your hand lying on his thigh.

     “Yeah, kinda what happens when you have your birthday at seventeen” You joked, and he chuckled at you, nodding “So… I’m officially a witch now” You cleared your throat, averting your gaze to the door, feeling your face burning at your hidden suggestion “And you… Well… So what about it?” You trailed off, retracting your hand from his thigh.

    “I… I made you a birthday gift… I mean... It’s nothing fancy like a coat but I made it especially for your eighteenth birthday and it’s totally okay if you don’t want to accept it! I mean, you may not even need it! Actually, it’s not really useful but it has a lot of meaning to it, and—“ You laughed as he rambled, pushing him lightly as you looked at him playfully.

    “You didn’t need to” You cut him off, and he blushed once more, lowering his head.

    “Well, I kinda did…” He mumbled, searching for something in his pockets. You watched him curiously as he finally found it, handing you a small bracelet that seemed to have been braided by someone. The piece had eight beads adorning it like, and you arched your brows as you took the gift in your hands, staring at it in awe.

    “It’s beautiful!” You chirped, wearing it immediately and studying it carefully on your wrist, grinning approvingly “You made this?” You asked, turning your head at him, and he nodded coyly. He took the hand you put the bracelet in his, rubbing circles at the back of your hand before focusing his eyes on yours, a fierce glint taking over his features.

   “Do you recognize it?” He bit his lips, and you tilted your head in confusion, studying the bracelet closer. It looked somewhat alike Caeli’s one, and the realization made you widen your eyes, snapping them at him as you gasped, flabbergasted.

   “Is it a –?“ He interrupted you, tightening his grip on your hands, anxiously.

   “Doesn’t have to be if you don’t want to!” He rushed to say, unable to hold your gaze. He played with your thumbs, swallowing dry before trying to look into your eyes. You stared at him in shock, not even once imagining he would give you an engagement bracelet, feeling your heart beating so fast that it resounded in your ears “One bead for each year I knew I wanted to marry you…” He let go of your hands, hiding his face “Mother Nature! This is so embarrassing! I told my mom you wouldn’t like it! Actually, just give it back! I can totally give you something else! I mean, just ask it! I will try to find it and –“

   You scoffed, holding his cheeks and bringing his face closer to yours, interrupting his rambling once again. He widened his eyes as he got closer to your face, and you almost chortled when your lips met, crashing against each other before both of you slowly closed your eyes. The initial messy kiss morphed into a more caring one; lips molding on each other as you felt butterflies in your stomach, the slow movements trying to convey years of yearning for this very moment.

  He cupped your cheek, leaning your way and guiding you to lie down, body hovering over yours as he deepened the kiss, tongue battling against yours to explore every inch of each other. His other hand rested on your waist, and you felt confident enough to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer to you. He whispered something against your lips ─ something that sounded just like a confession ─ before capturing your lips again, losing himself on you.

    The moment would be the best thing you ever experienced.

    “Holy shit!” Seungmin yelled in a strangled voice.

    If it wasn’t for your brother…

    Chan jolted away from you like you were on fire, sitting beside your lying body and looking at Seungmin like he was just caught red-handed. Well, he kinda was. Seungmin looked at you horrified, eyes studying both of you from head to toes before he grimaced, disgusted by what he had just witnessed. He got up from his chair, groaning and pressing his temples, refusing to look straight at you for a second.

    “I swear to God! I don’t want to see you guys… Oh my god! You should feel ashamed!” He accused, pointing at both of you “At least, wait to be alone, goddammit!” He whined, heading to the door at a quick pace, refusing to look back as he slammed the door behind him, traumatized. You stared at Chan’s lips, leaning his way once more before the window was slammed, startling you “And let me close this goddam window too!” He groaned, mumbling something as he walked away.

   Seungmin was so lucky he was your brother... Otherwise, you would be hunting him by now.

   You looked at Chan for a few seconds, deadpanned as your romantic moment was already ruined and there was nothing more to do about it. You both chortled, shaking your head in disbelief before he extended his hand for you to take, helping you out of bed and pecking your lips with a goofy smile plastered on his face, lowering his head to hide his grin and his flushed state.

    “I think that I let it pretty clear…” You chuckled, caressing his cheeks so he would return his gaze to you “But this was my way to say yes” You pecked his lips, and he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his forehead on yours.

   “I think you should say it a little louder… Not sure I heard it right” He sighed mockingly, and you placed a gentle kiss on his lips, smirking “Hm? What was it? I can’t hear you…” He whined, making you push his shoulder lightly, laughing at his antics. He pouted, and you rolled your eyes before kissing him once more, getting a satisfied grin from here “I think I’m beginning to hear it…” He mused.

   “You’re lucky I love you” You chortled, looking at him fondly.

   “Oh, that I am” He agreed, kissing you softly “Not only the most handsome but also the luckier warlock alive” He chuckled, and you let go of his neck, groaning jokingly as you headed to the door “Wait! I’m joking!” He laughed, following you and taking your hand on his, opening the door for both of you to brag about your news. He brought your tangled hands to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles before raising your hand in the air “I did it!” He yelled for everyone to hear, and you hid your face behind your free hand.

    It was okay if you had a moment ruined… You had plenty more to experience with him from now on.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Kidge zine (2) that got cancelled sadly! Look at me, practicing AUs!

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…

…

…

Keith always had a plan. It might not be entirely idiot-proof (working with Lance had proven that), but it was always solid and well-thought-out. Today was no exception—he’d break into the Lion Castle, steal the comet fragments hidden inside the tallest spire, and escape without leaving a trace.

 Well, realistically, he’d have to fight off a guard or two at least. Nothing ever went entirely according to plan and if he was honest, Lance wasn’t the only hothead in his guild.

 Still, things were going smoothly so far. He slipped into the castle in the dead of night, between rounds of patrols. Weaving his way through the shadows, he found a narrow staircase leading up the spire and, even better, ledges outside the tower that made it easy for him to scale all the way to the top floor. Inside the room, there was a single box on a single table, almost as though the Alteans were daring him to steal it.

 As his hand rested on the box, he paused. This was too easy, even for a mission without Lance. Keith glanced in the direction of the door but it was impossible to see through it and at the soldier standing guard outside. The lone torch in the room flickered and Keith shrugged off his suspicions. There was nowhere for anyone to hide in here. Maybe the Alteans hadn’t realized just how valuable this comet fragment was.

 Quickly, he pulled out a small black bag as he opened the box. Once he’d secured the comet—

 The box was empty.

Keith always had a plan but it never accounted for someone stealing the comet before him. Dumbfounded, he stared at the black velvet lining the box, blinking as he processed what he saw. “The fu—”

 As though to punctuate his swear, a building exploded just outside the window.

 -x-

 “Woah!” Pidge screamed, falling backwards from the shockwave of the explosion. She covered her ears, but it was too late; all she could hear was ringing. Dimly, she was aware the Hunk was yelling something, but he was always yelling and she could make a good guess about what it was. Knowing him, he was pointing at the ceiling. Or rather, where the ceiling used to be. Lying on her dorm floor, she stared up at the night sky.

 Well. That was a first. Her experiments sometimes got out of hand, but this was the first time she’d destroyed part of a building. Her floormates were going to kill her. It had been bad enough that she had burned her hair the last time her spell got out of hand and set off the fire alarm. At least they’d started talking to her in class again after a week. This? She was going to get shunned permanently.

 “Oh god, you’re going to get expelled,” Hunk moaned, his voice slowly rising with each word. “I’m going to get expelled. I told you we shouldn’t have done this but nooo, you just had to do it. You just had to figure out what that stupid rock was for before anyone else could.”

 “I didn’t think it’d be that powerful,” Pidge grunted, sitting up. She almost wished her hearing hadn’t come back. Rubbing an ear, she gestured at the sparkling rock that lay on the floor in front of her. “I thought it’d just amplify our powers a little.”

 “If it wasn’t powerful, it wouldn’t have been locked up,” Hunk hissed in response. He paced back and forth on the floor, cradling his head in his hands. “You don’t think they’ll make us pay for all of this? I can’t afford this.”

 A high-pitched siren sounded, cutting off the rest of his rant and Pidge jumped to her feet. “Oh shit.”

 “The intruder alarms? But those—” Hunk turned to her, horror dawning on his face. “What’d you do?”

 “They must have found the people I knocked out.” Pidge darted to the door, poking her head out. “No one’s outside.”

 “You knocked out people?” Incredulous, Hunk stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “Who are you?”

 “Hey, it was heavily guarded!” Pidge scowled. Closing the door behind her, she stepped into the center of the room and stared up at the ceiling. “We must have a spell that could fix that.”

 “What’re you going to do, grow your vines?” Hunk scoffed, crossing his arms. “We can’t hide this. There’s an alarm sounding because everyone knows what we did.”

 “I just want to make it look a little less bad.” Pidge bit her lip, squinting up at the broken rafters. They had to have learned a spell in class about construction. Maybe if she checked her notes, she could find it. “Just something so we don’t actually get expelled.”

 “It’s way too late for that,” Hunk sighed, burying his face in his hands.

 Pidge rolled her eyes. If she wanted to get anything done, she had to get rid of him. “Yeah, yeah, you just go keep watch, I’ll figure something out.” She pushed him insistently toward the door.

 “Watch?” Hunk looked over his shoulder at her but didn’t fight the movement.

 “Yeah, so no one catches me. Just give me a heads up if anyone comes to check.” Pulling open the door, she pushed Hunk outside quickly. “I’ll go make it less noticeable.”

 “This is a stupid idea,” Hunk grumbled, but he started walking toward the staircase anyways. “So very stupid—”

 Not waiting to hear the rest of his rant, Pidge quickly closed the door shut. Okay, she just had to find the right spell and hide the comet and then they could figure out the rest tomorrow. A good night’s sleep could cure anything, even certain expulsion.

 “So this is where it was?”

 Pidge froze at the stranger’s voice. Was it a guard? Already? She turned around, silently cursing herself. So much for Hunk’s alarm. “I can explain.”

 “No need.” In the middle of the room stood a strange man, dressed entirely in form-fitting black. There were small pouches on his pants, daggers nestled in them, and the only thing visible was his face. His really pretty face. The moonlight shone down on him through the hole in the ceiling, revealing his mop of black hair, annoyed expression, and dark eyes. As she gawked, he crouched and grabbed the stone. “I can guess what happened but I don’t really care.”

 Well, that didn’t sound like any of the guards she knew. Not that he looked like one of them either. There wasn’t a patch to indicate his position in the academy either. Besides, she would remember a face like that. “You’re not a guard.”

 The stranger snorted, sending her an “obviously” response. Opening a black pouch, he slipped the stone inside and Pidge realized two things at one: 1) he was the reason for the alarms and 2) he was stealing the stone.

 The stone that she’d worked very hard to steal. The stone, which when gone, would definitely guarantee her and Hunk’s expulsion. As he turned away, she ran across the room and pounced, trying to rip the bag out of his hand. He smoothly stepped to the side, avoiding her, and she crashed to the floor. “Hey!” she growled. “Give that back!”

 “Why should I?” he retorted childishly.

 “Why?” she snarled, holding out a hand. Pidge had never really been one for rash decisions but this was a desperate time and desperate times called for desperate measures. Magic pulsated out of her as she shouted, “Recipero!”

 The stone ripped out of the bag and hurtled to her waiting hand. As it came closer and closer, Pidge realized with horror, the stone wasn’t slowing down. She tensed, trying to move out of the way, but her body was frozen.

 The stone hit her hand and she blacked out.

 -x-

 Keith gingerly kicked the unconscious woman at his feet. Maybe he should have expected the spells—the castle did have a famous magic school attached to it. There were bound to be at least some skilled mages here. “Hey,” he called out, but the girl didn’t so much as stir. He wasn’t too surprised; the stone hit her hand pretty hard. She must have passed out from all the pain.

 Quickly, he crouched next to her and grabbed her hand. Her fingers were loosely wrapped around the stone, as though to protect it from him, and he had to admire that tenacity. Gently, he pried open her fingers, revealing the sparkling comet shard beneath.

 A comet shard that didn’t look so much on her skin as embedded. He grabbed it, trying to pull it free, but the rock refused to budge. What the hell kind of spell did she do? Whatever admiration he had was instantly replaced with irritation; it wasn’t like his plans today had enough issues as it was, without dealing with this. Maybe he could pry it free with his knife—no, it could kill her and while he was a thief, Keith wasn’t a murderer. At least, not for unsuspecting students who did not sign up for guard duty.

 “Pidge! They’re coming!” a man shouted in the hallway.

 Alert, Keith picked up the sound of dozens of boots stomping up the stairs. The guards must have caught onto him. Or maybe onto her—that explosion was pretty big. Either way, he didn’t have time to figure this out. One last futile tug on the rock and Keith sighed heavily. The hard way it was, then.

 Without hesitation, he slung the woman over his shoulders like a potato sack. He’d have to figure out what to do with her after he’d escaped.

 -x-

 “Huhhh?” Pidge blinked as she stared at a black fabric, her face pressed against it and some hard substance behind it. She was moving somewhere, she could feel it with every bump. Where? Why? She was in her room, last she remembered. Experimenting with the shard—

 Pidge gasped, remembering what had happened. Turning her head, she realized she was outdoors, it was midday, and that black fabric was the back of someone’s shirt. The thief’s shirt, she was certain. “You’re a kidnapper too?” she shouted, struggling to get off him. She tried to kick her feet but his grip was too strong. Resorting to her fists, she hit his back as hard as she could. “Let me go!”

 “Hey! Cut it out!” The thief grunted when she got a particularly hard jab in and dropped her to the ground.

 Pidge groaned as she rolled on the gravel pathway. She should have thought that out more. Rolling onto her back, she rubbed her head. Something hard pressed against her skin and she raised her hand to look at it. The comet shard stared back. “Wait, what?” She had to be seeing things, right? Why did she still have it and why did her hand hurt so much?

 “Hey? You okay?” The thief crouched next to her, worriedly examining her head, and damn, now that he was close, he looked even prettier.

 Prettier but evil, definitely evil, she thought, and she swatted his hand away. “I’m fine.” She pulled herself up to a sitting position slowly. Her hand hurt a lot and she looked at it once more. “Is it just me or is there a rock in my skin?”

 “Yeah…” The thief stared at her. “What did you do?”

 “I…” Pidge furrowed her brows, remembering the last spell she’d called. Recipero. A simple spell, really, except she’d accidentally mispronounced it in the heat of the moment. It was more of a Ree-see-prohh instead of Ree-sip-roh. And sounds could change entire spells into something different. “I think I miscast a spell.”

 “Great.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Can you undo it?”

 “…uh…I’m not sure.” Pidge winced. She should never have stolen the stupid rock in the first place.

 “Even better.” The thief bit his cheek, looking back in the direction they’d come from. Following his gaze, Pidge realized she didn’t even recognize the part of the path they were on. Just how far had he managed to travel?

 “Uh, where are we?” she asked, studying the trees around her. They weren’t native to the castle grounds.

 “Near Galra,” the thief answered absentmindedly, still pondering his next move.

 Galra. As in Altea’s enemy and neighbouring country. As in a place she definitely could get killed because they were hostile to outsiders. Pidge’s legs felt wobbly.

 Standing up, the thief said, “Okay, I know someone who might be able to help.”

 “Right. Help.” Pidge was the top of her class, great with theory, getting better with practical applications. She was many things, but this was not a situation she was equipped for.

 “Here.” The thief held out a hand. “You can walk, right?”

 She stared at his hand blankly for a moment before grabbing it. “Yeah.”

 “Great. We have a long walk ahead of us.” He pulled her to her feet. “Don’t make me tie you up.”

 Well, even if she could run (she had terrible stamina), there was nowhere to go. Yet. But wherever they were going potentially had cities along the way and near Galra wasn’t in Galra. Not yet. Pidge could escape, if she bided her time.

 She smiled nervously. “Gotcha.”

 All she had to do was be patient.

[stones-x-bones]

Safety Not Guaranteed || Erin and Bex

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @corpse--diem and @inbextween SUMMARY: Bex makes a desperate bid for her life. Erin can help this time. CONTENT: Domestic abuse references

Bex held the phone in her hands and read the message over and over and over again. I know where you are. I’m coming for you. I will destroy everything you have. She clutched it harder, holding it to her chest. It was a message sent to her burner phone. She knew, she knew, she knew. Her mother knew. She was coming for her and she knew. Morgan was at the store when Bex had gotten the message. Deirdre was out and Mina was in the pool. So Bex had shoved what she could in a bag and she’d stumbled out the door, wincing in pain the entire way. Her ribs still hurt so much and her head still wasn’t healed, and her heart still beat wrong-- but she couldn’t let her mom find her there. She couldn’t. She tapped on the GPS on her phone to turn on the location-- if her mother was tracking her, she’d follow the signal-- and pulled the backpack painfully onto her shoulder and raced out the front door. There was no pause like last time, no unsteady legs in the doorway. No collapsing on the porch as she watched Morgan rage after her mother, only to have Mina stop her. It was just Bex’s sandals, smacking the ground as she ran, or tried to run, as far away as possible. The plan right now was to ditch the phone somewhere-- a gas station, a bus stop, something inconspicuous-- before running back to find Morgan at the store and tell her what was going on. It was an admittedly bad plan, but it was the only one she had. She couldn’t call her, her mother would know.

Bex had forgotten, though, that with all her injuries came an exhaustion that wasn’t outrunable. She sputtered, couching, trying to inhale deep enough to get air to her lungs, but her breath wouldn’t come. She collapsed on the sidewalk, clutching her chest, trying to inhale through her nose, exhale out her mouth, just like Morgan had taught her. She didn’t even notice the other woman rapidly approaching her, the screen of her phone cracked against the sidewalk after she’d dropped it to the hard ground, clutched under her free hand. You’ll only wish you were dead, once I’m through with you, the message on the screen flashed, waiting to be read.

One of the things Erin hadn’t fully comprehended was the noise in her head. Noise maybe wasn’t the right word. A flow of pressure unlike anything she could explain or even begin to compare to. It wasn’t a headache--it didn’t hurt. But it was a pull and pressure that was hard to ignore. The farther away the source was, the weaker the draw. This one was close and strong, hard to ignore. Not one Erin felt like she could ignore. She stepped back from her desk, knuckles whitening around the edge of it. This was part of the whole thing, she supposed. She could be in the middle of her workday when the call came. It wouldn’t neatly call to her outside of the normal 9-5. 

As she focused on the feeling, the one that had pulled her from her work, her surroundings fell away and barely a second later, her heels scuffed along the sidewalk. She was outside. Oh,  boy. That was the first time she’d done that on her own and Josephine’s warnings had prepared her for what it’d feel like--but hearing about it and feeling it were two different things entirely. Her eyes fell to the young girl, the source of the anger that had drawn her here. “...Bex?” She called out, narrowing her eyes and moved towards her huddled figure. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Bex’s mind was only focused on breathing, like all the times Morgan had taught her. In, hold, out. In, hold-- Bex jerked at the sound of someone’s voice. No, not just someone, Erin. The woman from the Moose Caboose. Morgan’s friend. Bex’s eyes were red and puffy, there was no way to hide she’d been crying, and certainly no way to hide the bruise cascading across her face, starting at her eye and splintering downward. “E-Erin?” she glanced around, but the street was empty. “Where did you-- what are you doing here?” It was the middle of the evening and the middle of an empty street. She didn’t know how to answer her question. “I-- I mean, not really, no. It’s--” but if she told Erin what was going on, wouldn’t she too be dragged into her mother’s mess? Bex gripped her phone tightly. Maybe she needed to be done choosing who to protect and how to protect them. “Can you hide me somewhere?” she asked, standing up on shaky legs. Erin had helped her before, maybe she could help her again. It was a lot to ask, but she had to try. “I-- my mom is--” she gestured to her phone. “I need a place to hide, just-just for a bit.”

Questions sat at the tip of Erin’s tongue--between the bruising and look on her face, pained and desperate. But that look told her there wasn’t time for that. Not right at this moment. She nodded immediately, gently reaching for the young woman. “Of course. Come on. You’re okay,” she insisted. Shit. Wait. Where were they? This whole blinking thing didn’t exactly come with a GPS system. Erin glanced around and recognized the street wasn’t far from the funeral home. No wonder she’d felt Bex’s pull so strongly. It had to be Bex’s, she surmised. She could feel it now like she was standing directly in front of a roaring fire. It was a little much, and it was hard to face Bex directly, but she hid as much of it as she could as she acclimated to the new sensations. She reached gently, cautiously for Bex to help her to her feet and started down the street. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she said after a moment, a small smile on her face as she tried to, probably unsuccessfully, to temporarily lighten the mood. “My place is just down the street here. Is that okay?” She glanced over, hurrying along. “You’ll explain everything when we get there?”

Bex let Erin help her to her feet, reminding herself that not every adult’s touch was going to hurt. She didn’t know exactly where she was, only that she’d run from Morgan’s house and twisted down the street she thought might take her mother the longest to find her along. “Yeah, that-- that’s okay,” she nodded, glancing down at her phone. “Just-- hold on.” She paused and gripped her phone tightly, before launching it into the street and watching it smash on the pavement. Her mother didn’t know that she knew Erin, she wouldn’t know where to look if she came down this street. “I-- yes. I’ll explain when we get inside.” As much as she could, she supposed. Her heart was still racing, fractured ribs grinding together as they moved hurriedly along the sidewalk and towards the funeral home. Bex had almost forgotten Morgan had told her Erin was a funeral director, but her excitement was stifled under layers of fear and anxiety and anger. Once, they were inside, Bex had thought maybe she’d feel some sense of relief, but there was nothing. Only more fear as she pressed against the door and wrapped her arms around herself. “Thank you,” she said quietly, still glancing out the window as if she expected Odell to be storming up the drive towards her.

Erin didn’t know what to make of Bex smashing the phone on the ground on top of everything else. But they made it back to the funeral home without incident, and despite the fear that was dripping from every facet of Bex, the deeply buried anger was still flaring brightly. She was concerned with whatever kept making her glance back through the window now though. Erin nodded. “Do you need anything? Even just--tea? I can call Morgan too, if you want,” she asked, leading Bex away from the window and towards the kitchen area. She needed her help, that much was obvious, and maybe--maybe--Erin would be able to help her. She’d have to talk to Josephine first though, right? She couldn’t and probably shouldn’t be doing this on her own. Even if she couldn’t help magically, she could at least do this. It was the least she could do for the girl who had helped her out of the incident with the Moose Caboose alive. “Is someone chasing you?” She glanced back as she pulled out a mug, preparing the tea. “Do I need to worry?”

“No! No,” Bex said hurriedly, even as she let Erin lead her away from the front door and towards the inside of the house. If things had been different, she would’ve asked for a tour. She almost did. Instead, she said, “You can’t call Morgan. That-- she’s in danger, too. And me not being there is the only thing keeping her out of danger.” Odell already had it out for her, catching Bex at Morgan’s was as good as digging Morgan’s actual grave. Bex looked worriedly from the hallway they’d come down, back to Erin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I should’ve said something before I asked you, I’m sorry. It’s-- yes. Sort of? It’s not-- she’s not chasing me, per say, but she is coming for me. And she’s really angry and I’m worried she’s actually going to--” Her throat closed up. She shouldn’t be telling Erin all of this, she shouldn’t, but she knew Morgan and she understood this world and maybe, just maybe, she could help. Maybe Bex could let someone help. “I’m worried she might actually kill me this time.” Or worse. There was always worse.

Morgan was in danger too? The alarm levels in her chest rose. What kind of drama had she just invited into her home? She started to balk when she had to remind herself--this was what she signed up for. Anger and the retribution she summoned from it demanded confrontation. Erin stopped, watching the way Bex stuttered and fumbled through her sort-of explanation, putting a hand up in front of her. “She doesn’t know you’re here. Okay? There’s no way she’s going to guess that you’re in a funeral home. So if anything you’ve got a few minutes to breathe. Right now, you’re safe. And if she comes close, I’ll know it.” She felt for Bex--not in a way that was true understanding of what she was going through, but the panic she felt, the actual danger her parents were putting in, was so real it hurt. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” She asked. “Just so I can be better prepared in case she does?”

Bex had to keep reminding herself of that. Odell wasn’t here and there was no way she could know she was. Unless she had some sort of magical tracking spell on Bex, which wasn’t actually out of the realm of possibilities, and the thought made more panic rise in her throat like bile. “She might, though!” she responded, her voice growing shrill. “She-she might. I don’t know how much she knows. I only just found out that she knew about magic and the supernatural and that she has some sort of connection to them! It was in the file. The papers. They signed something in blood and I’m supposed to sign it, too. I--” she looked at Erin, bewildered, all the fear she’d been trying to avoid leaking into her eyes. “I stole something, from my mother’s safe. To try and figure out how to get away from them, because they--” but the bruise on her face finished her sentence. “My mother caught me. She-- she attacked me and then threatened me when she found out where I’d gone.” And she’d threatened Morgan and Mina and Deirdre and Bex really shouldn’t have brought anyone else into this. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know how to stop her from hurting someone.”

Erin winced as Bex’s voice grew higher, more panicked. “She won’t. She can’t come in here even if she wanted to. I promise.” The wards Nell surrounded her property with had been constructed to make sure of that. She and her home had gone through too much to endure any sort of nonsense anymore. The information was a lot to absorb regardless and she remained quiet until Bex finally quietened herself, but the anger growing on Bex’s behalf burned hot already. “What do you mean she attacked you?” That alone was atrocious enough. “Did you read the papers? Do you--do you have any idea what you’re supposed to be signing? What does she want from you?” Magic was at the root of this. Of course it fucking was. She shook her head slowly, running her fingers through her hair. 

“Don’t promise things,” Bex said. Especially things you can’t keep. No one could keep the promise that her mother wouldn’t find her, couldn’t come here. Her hands wrung together and picked at the seams of her nails anxiously. Her entire body was taught. She was so tired of being so worried all the time. So afraid. So frightened. It boiled something in her stomach that she swallowed. “I mean she-- she was a little drunk, and she-- she doesn't like it when I get into her stuff, you know? She’s a really private woman. And I was snooping around at a bad time and she caught me and she just sort of-- she lost control.” On her body, her ribs. Bex reflexively put her arms back around herself. “I don’t know what they’re for. Morgan thinks it’s some s-sort of deal. With a coven o-or a demon, and I have to sign it when I turn 21 and after that I don’t know what happens. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me and I just-- I’m so tired of all of this. Of running and hiding and living in fear. I just want--” she hiccuped, trying to hold back tears threatening to surface. “I want all of this to stop but I can’t make it stop.”

“There’s no excuse for any of that. For touching you. It’s not okay,” Erin answered without hesitation. She didn’t mean to sound crass. She wasn’t upset with Bex but the sharp, growing hostility she was feeling towards her mother was getting hard to contain. But she could feel the nugget of rage building within Bex too. At the core of her fears and the pain, this was abundantly clear to Erin. It spurned something within her and she took a few steps, crossing the distance towards Bex. Demons weren’t her strength but there might be something she could do. Even if she couldn’t do it herself, she could point her in Josephine’s way. She gently ushered her towards one of the kitchen chairs, taking the spot across from her. “Listen, this might--sound bizarre to you. Okay? And you can say no. This is absolutely up to you…” She started, tempering her voice. She wanted to be as clear as possible. No tricks. “If you want, I can help you. I can do that. I can make this all go away.” 

That was the running theme, then, wasn’t it? What her mother was doing to her, had done to her, wasn’t okay. But that wasn’t going to help Bex. Just knowing her mother was bad didn’t make Bex want to love her any less. It just burned more, knowing that she’d never get it. And she’d done everything they’d asked for, hadn’t she? She’d been the child they wanted all along but because she’d never been normal-- could never be normal-- she’d never been enough. Tears burned her eyes, even as she sat down in the kitchen chair, scrubbing the back of her hand across her eyes. “H-how can you make it go away? How can anyone make her better without just killing her? I-- I don’t want to kill her. I don’t want her dead. I just wanted her to love--” A loud banging on the front door startled Bex enough to jump in her chair. She swerved to look back down the hallway, she felt the magic shimmering around them. Nell’s magic. It was warm and familiar. She turned back to look at Erin, wide eyes. “It-- it’s her. I know it’s her. She found me.” And sure enough, the angry voice shouting through the door was none other than Odell’s. Bex had brought her wrath upon someone else and now they’d both pay the consequences.

Erin shook her head. “No. It doesn’t work like that. I don’t kill people.” Not anymore, anyway, and not unless she really had to--but Bex didn’t need to know that part. She hadn’t anticipated the second person she was sharing her newfound power news with to be Bex. With the loud, sharp knocks on the door, Erin realized she didn’t have much of a choice. And she wasn’t sure she had time to find Josephine to help. There wasn’t time and she had no idea what kind of magic this woman had at her finger tips. Without a wish being made, Erin was as good as useless. She turned back to Bex, a gentle hand on her forearm to try and focus her attention back on her Erin. “Listen, I can help. I can try, at least. I know I told you I was human, and at the time, that was--that was true. You don’t have any reason to trust me and I get that too--” Her head turned towards the door as the pounding and yelling grew louder. “But I can make this normal for you. I have magic that can make this stop, if that’s what you want. I can make her go away and make sure she doesn’t hurt you ever again. Make your life normal, like you asked. You just have to say the word and I’ll do it.” She paused again, trying to find Bex’s eyes, hoping the sincerity--and not the nerves she had about offering this--was clear in her own. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Bex found it hard to concentrate on anything except the angry banging on the door, the enraged sound of her mother’s voice. I warned you, this is the last straw. You’ll never see the light of day again. Bex was powerless to it, to her. She shrank, even under just the sounds. Head whipping back around fast when Erin put a hand on her arm, her mind trying to trick itself into believing it was her mother. “Magic? You have magic?” But what kind of magic? Normal people didn’t just get magic. Bex’s face contorted in confusion. “But-- but how? What-- how can you help?” she asked, her heartbeat skipping erratically. She didn’t know if they had time for explanations. “What do I say? What-- how do I make it stop? What do I say?”

Erin didn’t know this woman but she already hated her. Hated that she had inflicted this fear and pain on her own child and that she had the audacity to bring that to her front step. She glared at the source of the noise, the glow from Odell’s anger bright and raw. It was different though. It was harsh and felt… not right. Unwarranted. Selfish. It was different from what she felt from Bex. “I can explain how later, but what you have to do is just make a wish. Be as precise as you possibly can about what you want.” That part felt more for Erin’s benefit. She’d never done this before. She didn’t know what was going to happen or how it worked. Josephine had gone over this briefly with her, how the magic worked and how to grant a wish, but it wasn’t something she’d done in practice or actuality just yet. But with the pounding on the door and the threats looming, time ticked loudly in her ears. She took a breath and nodded at Bex, trying to hide her own nerves. “Can you do that?”

“A...wish?” Bex asked tentatively. Eddie had mentioned things that could grant wishes, but didn’t know much more than that. Could spellcasters do that? Was Erin a spellcaster or something more? Nell hadn’t told her anything about that. But she was desperate, she’d do just about anything. Anything to make sure her mother didn’t get in, to make sure her mother didn’t hurt her anymore, or anyone she loved. She wanted her mother to just be a mother. As much as she might want her to suffer, more so than that, she wanted her to just be normal. Just normal. That was all she wanted. “I-- I can do that. I can do that.” She took in a deep breath, she tried to block out the angry howling of her mother. She thought about Nell and Morgan and Mina and Deirdre and just making sure they were safe. Magic was about intent, Nell had taught her that. This was the same, right? “I wish-- I wish I could just be normal. My life. I just want a normal life. No-- no angry mother, no disillusioned father. I-- I want them to just know what it’s like to be normal and not have any of this crazy bullshit in their lives! I wish they understood how it felt to be powerless.” She screwed her eyes shut. “I just want my life to be normal! I wish my life was normal.”

Erin anticipated the uncertainty that came with the ‘wish’ part of it. It was weird. It was outside the normal realm of what even “normal” magic fell under. But normal magic was nothing compared to the capabilities rustling beneath her skin, itching at Bex’s request. The sensation was new but just as natural. Erin followed the flow of it like Josephine had explained. The magic moved but on it’s own accord, and Erin finally understood what her mentor had tried to tell her about her control over the magic (and lack thereof). She focused everything she could into Bex’s wish. Knew it was done when the blip of magic ceased and the knocking on the door stilled completely. The whole room seemed to come to a standstill. She did it. She couldn’t explain how but she knew in her bones that it was done. Erin had granted her first wish. The excitement and nerves battled within her but an encouraging smile reached her lips as she nodded at Bex. 

“It’s done.”

[nightingale101]

Don’t take the money.

So slowly writing chapter 2, i figure i might as well post the first chapter here.

~~~

Somebody broke me once, Love was a currency A shimmering balance act, I think that I laughed at that And I saw your face and hands, Coloured in sun and then I think I understand

~~**~~

This was different. Those other times, love had burnt like an uncontrollable fire, consuming everything and everyone in its path and burning itself out in the process. It was all consuming, a fire they had lit under his skin that turned everything it touched to ash and ruin. But with V… with V it was different. It was…. Warmth

One

Sweet Disposition.

 A moment, a love

A dream, a laugh

A kiss, a cry

Our rights, our wrongs

   “I don’t understand. They- Grayson said - at the oil fields”

 “he either lied or wasn’t high enough up the Chain to be in the know.”

 “But I-“

 “Focus, We have to move. Reinforcements are probably on their way here as we speak.”

 “I know- I just.”

 “It’s alright, we can figure this out. Together, as a family.”

 “yeah. Ok... one thing at a t- oh shit, that alarm. Fuck”

 “We have to move. Now. Do you think you can help me carry him, V?”

 The voices came to him from far, far away, a lifetime away it felt like. filtering in through the inky blackness he currently found himself drifting in. afloat, lost, confused.

 He didn’t know them. At least he didn’t think he knew them, he couldn’t remember. Well, he really couldn’t remember much of anything right know. He wasn’t even sure he knew himself. He wasn’t even sure what his name was. Where was he… How did he get here… why was he here... why couldn’t he remember?

 V… was that a name...? Was that his name? No… No he didn’t think so, but it was confusing. He knew V… He was sure of that. He wanted to… save them.

 ~~**~~

 He didn’t know how long he’d been there. floating in the dark, it seemed timeless. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours, it could have been a year as far as he could tell. He wasn’t sure where he was, or why, or how he got there. But he remembered his name now.

 Johnny.

 ~~**~~

 The voices still floated to him though the darkness. Not as clear as the first time, but he caught the occasional word through the muffled haze that seemed to surround him.  

 Plan. Silverhand. Night City. Dying. Border. Wake up. V. Bleeding. Badlands. Lucky. Wake up. Please.

 There were more than the first two voices now, although he couldn’t tell exactly how many. Some of them seemed to blend together and he couldn’t distinguish one voice from the other. He heard the first voice, the voice he now could recognize as V, the most often. She often talks to him alone, or at least he doesn’t hear anyone else while she’s around. He wonders if this means he saved her. If he could just remember what happened.

 ~~**~~

 He knows who he now. He is Johnny Silverhand. Deserter. Rockerboy. Terrorist. All round bastard.

 He remembers all of it. Alt. Arisaka tower. Rouge. Smasher. And V. God he remembers V. A pang of guilt clutches around his heart when he thinks of her. That’s new he thinks. He hadn’t really felt guilty about something before. Everything was inconsequential to him before, someone else’s problem.

 He remembers It felt like torture to him. Watching her slowly get worse, her body and mind slowly being taken over by him, with nothing he could do about it. He remembers when he stopped the elevator, taking control of her arm to push the button, the fear in her voice. And he remembers his own fear, when she’d passed out, and he couldn’t reach her, no matter how hard he tired. But, he could still hear her voice… she was talking to him, wherever he was. Which means she was alive, right? He’d… Gone with Alt? is this what being a part of her was like? This… nothingness... but something. And still being able to here V.

 He doesn’t remember anything after speaking with V in Cyberspace. Seeing her red digital form, arguing with him of all things. She didn’t want him to leave, wanted to find a way for them both to live. One moment they were talking… and then he was here. Nowhere.

 ~~**~~

 He was starting to feel things again. and everything… Hurt. There was pain firing in all his nerves all over his body. His head was throbbing, sharp pain spikes were running down his back and adding to the dull ache in his legs…. His... legs...? Was this phantom pain from his non-existent body? Like what he had felt when he first lost his arm. Was he feeling the injuries that his body would have sustained from that last fight at the tower...? Or- no. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea that he actually had a body again. Because that would mean V... was... and he didn’t want to think about that. As long as she was alive, it was all worth it. He’d given his life for hers, and he couldn’t think of better thing to lay down his life for.

 ~~**~~

He’s… confused. He has a body, he’s pretty sure of that, can feel jolts of pain running down his spine, way to vivid to be phantom pains. But he hears V talking… wherever he, they, are, she’s here, and talking to Panam. He tries to pay attention to their convocation.

 “… signs of improvement.” Panam was saying. “but no guarantees, V.”

 He thinks they’re talking about him. Whatever is going on, he thinks he’s getting better too. He didn’t feel like he was floating anymore. He felt anchored. Secure. Still in darkness, but he didn’t feel like he was floating endlessly. He was more aware of his body; of the pain he was feeling. Or whoever’s body he was in, because as far as he knew his body was a skeleton and some rusted metal buried under the oil fields.

 “I know…” came V’s voice, she let out a sigh. “One day at a time, right?”

 V sounded exhausted. She sounded like she did when he’d taken her to the Pistis Sophia, after she’d woken up, a pain in her chest and barely being able to walk. Like she was running on empty, holding on by a thread that was threatening to snap at any moment and send her plummeting to the ground.

 “Right. And anyway. We should talk about you.” Panam said.

 “one thing at a time, Panam.” V responded, “Besides, there’s not a lot to talk about on that front anyway. Mitch is still chasing down his old contacts, isn’t he?”

 “Yes, but that’s not really what I meant.” Panam continued. “I meant, how are you doing? I know you haven’t been sleeping and-“

 “Time is short… Sleeping seems like a waste.”

 “If you don’t sleep, you’ll burn out so much faster. You-“

 The conversation faded to the background as his thoughts sawm around his head. V. It was odd not knowing exactly how she was feeling, what was going through her head. When he was in her mind, her thoughts and feelings flowed into him, and he could reassure her without even speaking, steel her nerves, calm her racing heart. He wanted to reach her now. He wanted to reassure her. He wanted to speak to her…

 “…V” His voice was so small he thought as the blackness surrounded him, not his intention at all.

 “Johnny!?” he heard V say, her voice full of concern but also hopfullness, and then the nothingness came once again.

 ~~**~~

 When Johnny Silverhand woke up it was sunrise, the pale orange light stung the edges of his vision. His eyelids were heavy, like he hadn’t opened them for so long that they resisted the unfamiliar movement.  It took an enormous effort to even open them at all, and even more effort to try and keep them open. His whole body ached. Every inch. From his legs to his head. From dull aches, to sharp jolts, he felt it all. Even moving his eyes too look around like it hurt.

 He was in a tent. He recognized it as an Aldecaldo tent, like the one V had awoken in after she’d passed out in front of Panam. He was vaguely aware of frantic voices around him, but he was more focused on breathing, the ache in his chest as his lungs rose and fell. The fact that he was even breathing at all.

 And then she was there.

 “V…” His voice was hoarse, and his throat felt like it had been fucked by a sandpaper covered dick. But it was worth it, her face lit up with a smile the second he spoke.

 “Johnny… Oh my god.” She sounded so relieved, he heard her dragging something to his side and she sat down next to him. With the most effort he’d ever needed to do anything, he turned his head slightly to look at her. His neck protested, loudly.

 “I don’t…” it was taking all his effort to stay awake. He felt Vs hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance.

 “It’s okay.” She said softly, as he was rapidly losing the fight with his eyelids.  “just rest… we can talk later”

 ~~**~~

 The next time Johnny woke up he felt marginally better, as in he didn’t feel like he had been runover by semi-truck, just a minivan. He wasn’t sure what time it was, sometime at night he thought, Judging from the lack of light in the tent. When he turned his head slightly, he could make out a person sleeping, or at the very least laying down, on a cot opposite him.

 He moved his hand to reach out to them, not entirely sure why, but just knowing he wanted to. With a protest of pain that shot out from his wrist, up his arm, and down his spine; his hand slid off the cot and thumped onto the floor. It felt like trying to move a waterlogged post, slow and impossibly heavy. He almost imdently wanted to bring his arm back up onto the bed, to a more comfortable position, but quickly decide that was way more effort that he was willing to put in right at this moment and would probably make him pass out again. He settled on moving his fingers, enjoying the feeling of his nails scraping though the carpet, or mat, or… whatever was on the floor of the tent, he couldn’t be bothered looking. He became aware that he couldn’t move his other hand, or his other arm in general. His arm that in his original body would have been his cybernetic arm. He hated that feeling. He let out a sigh.

 He saw the person on the other cot stir and begin to sit up, it was V.

 “Johnny.”

 “Hey... V.” he croaked out. She stood and walked over to him, taking a seat by his side again. “I ...” he began, but wasn’t sure how to finished that sentence, or even what he wanted to say. she reached for something next to him, a bottle of water. She placed a straw in it and brought the other end to his lips. He drank. It made throat feel significantly better. When he was done, she put the bottle back down, somewhere just beyond his sight.

 “Its okay.” She picked up his arm and placed it back on the bed, resting it across his chest. “first off, how are you feeling?”

 “Fucking preem.” He said, throat still protesting slightly, “Apart from the fact that I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck or ten”

 “Yeah, I figured...” V responded, her eyes looking over his body, as if she could see the pain. It was quite for a moment.

 “V…” He said softly, breaking thought the quiet, she looked at him. “What the fuck happened… I don’t... I don’t remember”

 She let out a sigh and looked up at a ceiling. He could see her eyes dart back and forth as she got her thoughts in order. The last time he’d seen her do this, they were on the roof above Mistys, making one last choice, and he was feeling sick to his stomach. But at this moment, it felt like a lifetime ago. Maybe it was. “Johnny, what’s the last thing you remember.”

 “talking to you… inside Mikoshi and then… Nothing.” His voice came out more of a hushed whisper than he would have liked.

 “okay… its… right.” She began.  She slapped her hands down on her lap, he wasn’t sure why, maybe to psych herself up. “so, while we were talking in Mikoshi, before we came to a decision, Alt appeared. Do you remember?

 He shook his head slightly. He knew he’d already came to a decision; he would die so she could live. It was V who was still wrestling with the choice. V continued. “She said there was an anomaly. Something that she didn’t account for, and then you disappeared. Just… Blinked out of existence right before my eyes.”

 She paused to take a shaky breath.

  “She then told me a location inside Arasaka Tower to go to, close to where we were, If I chose to go back to my body... which I obviously I did... and in that room was the anomaly. In that room was you.” She looked at Johnny. “Your body.”

 He swallowed. “I don’t understand…. Grayson said…”

 “He lied” V said. “Or he just genuinely didn’t know. But this” she placed her hand on his chest, right above his heart. “This is you. Not a clone, or a replica. You.”

 He let that sink in for a moment. He’d known that he was in a body. He just hadn’t thought it had been his body. At least it was slightly less concerning that he couldn’t move his left arm now. The prosthetic must have been damaged. “...How?”

 “Cryogenically frozen.” V said. “honestly, lucky you still have all of your fingers and toes. Cryo freezing’s a crapshoot even these days, I couldn’t imagine how it was back then.”

 Lucky to even be alive, he thought, from what little he knew about the Cryo technology from 2023, but leave it to Arasaka to have the top tier technology squirreled away in their basement. “so, is that why I feel like I’ve been run over?”

 “Maybe partially.” V said. “but, near as I could tell... they froze your body right after they used soul killer on you. So all your injures from the tower, they’re still fresh.”

 Oh. That made more sense now. He did fall out of a helicopter, and get his ass handed to him by Smasher. “so... Alt just uploaded my mind back into my body? And I was good to go.”

 V smiled at him, a sad smile. He decided he didn’t like it. “not exactly… Johnny when I got to you, you were dead. You had no pulse, you weren’t breathing. Me and Panam just barely managed to get you back. We didn’t know if you were going to wake up…. I didn’t…. you scared the hell out of me.”

 “It’s payback…” He said. She was upset, and he hated that it was because of him. Her hand was still on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Despite the protests from his arm, he moved to place his hand over the top of hers, letting his fingers come to rest between hers. “For when I thought...”

 “its not funny Johnny.” She sounded annoyed, but she didn’t move her hand.  “You’ve been in a coma for nearly a month.”

 A month his mind echoed. He could feel himself slowly slipping back into unconsciousness, but he was suddenly aware of the implication of sleeping for a month. The moment V’s mind was placed back in her body, she was a ticking time bomb, and the clock was set for six months. And now that was down to five. She didn’t deserve that. His chest ached as guilt wrapped itself around his heart.

 They were quiet. His hand was still over hers, their fingers interlaced. She had begun to move thumb, gently and slowly stroking the side of his palm. He in turn began to move his thumb, caressing the back of her hand. Her hands were so much smaller than his and they seemed much more delicate, but he knew they could be just as deadly as his own if she needed them to be. He wanted to ask more questions, but more than that he didn’t want this moment to end, just being able to touch her- actually touch her. And just enjoying this. This unspoken thing between them.

 He was in love with her. He’d been aware that for a while now, although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it started. He thinks it might have started bubbling in his chest around the time he took her to the Pistis Sophia, when he’d committed to saving her.

 He’d been in love before, he knows that. Alt. Rouge. And even Kerry at some points. But this… This was different. Those other times, love had burnt like an uncontrollable fire, consuming everything and everyone in its path and burning itself out in the process. It was all consuming, a fire they had lit under his skin that turned everything it touched to ash and ruin. But with V… with V it was different.  It was…. Warmth. Like a fire you had built to keep the winter chill at bay. it surrounded you with its warmth and comfort so that whatever storm you were taking shelter from, didn’t matter.  It still burned with ferocity, like all fires did, but it didn’t feel like it would consume him and everything thing in its path. It felt... safe… like he needed this fire to survive, and not like he need to survive this fire.

 He wanted to tell her, but as the thought crossed his mind, he felt his grasp on consciousness slip. “V…”

 “You should rest..” She said, she had the softest smile on her face. “Its late. And we’ll have all the time in the world to talk when you’re stronger.”

 He thought that sentiment was laughable, as his eyes slowly fell shut against his will. He’d always been weak.

[kestrelmando]

Writer Wednesday - The Phone Booth

The great @autumnleaves1991-blog has put together a weekly “Writer Wednesday” where she provides an image prompt.

This one is Jack “Whiskey” Daniels/f!OC.

Set in my, as of yet, unpublished f!OC x Whiskey series “Whiskey Smash”. Basic relevant background info; Whiskey and Mezcal (my f!OC with previous mob ties) were partners in Statesmen, just barely dip their toe into catching feelings when a near death experience with Mezcal scares him away due to his past. They haven’t talked/seen each other in a couple years at this point.

Warnings: Swear words, descriptions of a fight, impalement with a high heel, descriptions of wounds

-- 

A mission hadn’t blown up in her face like this is a long time, a really long time – the last one was years ago on that dingy rooftop where he had finally finally yanked her in and kissed her only for the night to end with her shoving him out of the line of fire. Three bullets later, two doses of Ginger’s experimental clotting serum, 3.5 liters of blood loss and she had woken up alone.

Just a note next to a vase of purple hyacinth and white amaranth; ‘I can’t do it again. – J’.

Oh, and she’d protested heavily on taking a mission in fucking New York. He was running the NYC branch, he could find someone local but Champ had insisted. It was supposed to be a simple recon mission; blend, listen, collect evidence.

Mezcal had wined and dined all evening, batting her eyelashes and smiling with doe eyes. She was this close to sticking her hand into the right pocket when someone had recognized her. He locked eyes with her across the room and recognition rippled across his face instantly. One of her father’s high level enforcers – hard to forget the boss’s daughter especially when she all but disappeared.

He knew better than to cause a scene in a private residence with stupidly rich people floating around between them. What the hell was he doing here? She made her excuses, off to powder her nose, and slipped into the empty side hallway. There was a small window in the butler’s pantry three doors down or she could try just walking out through the foyer and the front door. He’d be expecting the foyer, the cleanest exit was usually the simplest, so she made for the pantry.

She slipped off her heels and carried them, the click being far too loud on the marble floor, and quietly slid the pocket door open. The window was small, almost too small, but she was confident she’d make it and more importantly – the enforcer wouldn’t. Mezcal slid the door mostly shut and quickly went the window, shoving the frame up and grimacing at the chilly fall air.

A hand closed around her ankle just as she was halfway out, one knee dangling and the other in an awkward bend, and yanked her back. Her shoulder and head crashed against the upper window pane and frame with a crunch. Dazed, she dropped one shoe to the ground and swayed. Still, her free hand locked around the window frame. She would not be pulled back into the house – the other shoe came up, stiletto first, and embedded into his cheek.

The enforcer howled with pain, ripping it from his face with an arc of blood, and wrapped his beefy hands around both legs before dragging her back inside. They both tumbled to the ground at the momentum and she rolled to her feet, hands raised and ready for a fight.

 --

 She didn’t know how long she walked. Her head was swimming, ears were ringing. The cold autumn night bit at her bare feet and tattered dress. It was just like some rich asshole to have his home nearly on the slopes and away from everyone and everything else.

Eventually she stumbled onto a tiny town – if you could call it that. The storefronts were all long closed and she considered breaking into one for a phone and some warmth when she saw the lone phone booth. It stood out like a sore thumb, a relic even, but more secure than using a phone inside one of the stores.

She dutifully trudged to the booth and slipped inside, grimacing and checking the coin return for any spare change. At least one thing went right; seventy five cents in quarters rolled into her hand. Mezcal paused, she had to pick the right person to call and seventy five cents wasn’t going to give her long. After a mental run through of possible contacts, she sighed and let her head slump against the booth.

It had to be him. Goddamit, it had to be Whiskey.

He was all but guaranteed to be at the office still and the New York City branch was only a hour and an half by car. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, willing herself to forget his forlorn face all those years ago when he said he didn't like going home to an empty bed. 

She slid the quarters into the phone and dialed the number she would never admit she knew by heart; Whiskey's direct line. 

It rang twice before he picked up, voice stretched and thin, "Whiskey."

The air left her lungs and her tongue cemented itself to the roof of her mouth. Absurdly, she felt tears prick at her eyes. Even tired and lacking its usual ridiculous bounciness, it was the most beautiful sound she'd heard in ages. He sighed into the receiver.

She finally found her voice, "It's me." 

He breathed her name like a prayer, "Mezcal," he paused and then pressed on more urgently, "What's wrong?"

"I'm in New York, Middletown. I need extraction. I...I was unable to get back to my planned exit."

"Darlin' are you hurt? Where in Middletown?"

She leaned out of the phone booth looking for a street sign, "Oak and Main, phone booth."

"Are you hurt?"

"Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix."

He muttered something she didn't quite catch before saying, "Sit tight,  extraction comin' in a hour."

Mezcal hung up the phone, and slid the phone booth door shut in a vain attempt to stem the flow of cold air. She sunk to the floor and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her fingers around her numb toes.

--

Time was immaterial; all she knew was cold. The thin dress offered no insulation and both shoes had been lost on the grounds of the target's home.

Headlights cut through the night and she raised her head to see an unmistakable white bronco and a familiar stetson emerge from truck.

He didn't send a driver.

She tried to unfold her frozen limbs but everything was sluggishly moving. Instead, she reached over and slid open the phone booth door.

He caught he gaze over the hood of the bronco. Whiskey hurried over to her and immediately bent to help her up, hissing at the iciness of her bare arms.

She let herself be pulled up, mumbling, "You didn't have to come."

He knew her meaning; he could've sent someone. Instead he just replied, "Yeah I did."

They walked back to the truck, Whiskey's hand on the small of her back, and he opened the passenger door for her. The interior light of bronco illuminated her face and his face quickly morphed into alarm. He blurted out her name, her real name. "Kenna?" 

"You should see the other guy." She attempted with some bravado.

He gave her a once over in the light and all but lifted her into the truck, "Where the fuck are your shoes?"

"Just... let's go. Get the heat on, I'll tell you on the way back."

Whiskey nodded tightly but shut her door and got in on the other side. He turned on the truck, got the heater running, but didn't make a move to go anywhere. Instead he flicked on the overhead lights and reached into the back, broad shoulder brushing against her, and fished out a Statesmen first aid kit. 

He opened it with a snap and began pulling out various items, not glancing up from the kit, "Start talking."

"Recon, potential medical front for a bioweapons dealer. Wasn't supposed to see any action."

She sucked in a breath when she caught his eye. Those damn eyes. His brow had that knit in it and his gaze was the same soft one it had been that night all those years ago. She pointedly did not look at his mouth.

He reached up and tucked his fingers under her chin, turning her head to apply antiseptic to a small cut near her temple and on a few scrapes along her arms. Next was a prototype field ice pack, he gave it a few vigorous shakes and the small pouch froze. 

His fingers swept across her cheekbone, just below her black eye. "And who did this, sugar?"

Silence loomed between them and he frowned, anxiety swirling in his gut the longer she didn't say. His other hand crept up to cradle her neck.

"Kenna--"

"An enforcer. One of his enforcers, Jack."

The knit in his brow increased, his lips turning down into a frown. "Do we need to go take care of it?"

Mezcal smiled grimly then, "No. Dumb city kid was too enraptured by the fancy dumb waiter. The new, modern hydraulic dumb waiter."

Whiskey smirked at that and pressed the ice pack to her swollen eye. She told herself it was just her icicle limbs thawing in the warm truck, but a wave of heat rolled through her as his gaze openly drifted down her body. 

He picked at the tattered line of a slit in her dress, just above her knee, "Anywhere else we need to address?"

Her mouth was a desert, "Just the usual flesh wounds." 

Whiskey hummed and slid the slit over slightly to investigate, the fabric sliding across her legs and opening further up her thigh.

Like a goddamn curtain opening on a reminder of their last op together, the dress revealed the raised, white, puckered scar of a bullet wound. The same wound that nearly bled her dry in Jack's arms. 

Mezcal slowly raised her head to meet his eyes and she could see it happening in real time; his eyes became distant and his expression closed off. Her heart clenched -- goodbye Jack, hello Agent Whiskey. He moved his hands to wheel and they set off back to New York City.

Later, as she took a company car to drive back to Kentucky that night, she didn't bother saying goodbye. They were back to strangers.

[sagurus]

04. caged

Prompt was: Running out of time: caged.

Using @whumptober2020‘s prompt today.

The original idea behind this is credited to @magpythe; I don’t believe he’s posted any of his writing for this au himself yet, but it’s inspired entirely from a scenario that he started, and then we talked about collaboratively. For some context, this takes place in a world much like our own in terms of scientific rules, except there are magical/supernatural beings (vampires, werewolves, shinigami, kitsune, etc) living among us as well. This was a well-kept secret from the general populace bc those magical beings didn’t want to deal with the backlash, but alas this facade couldn’t last. Humans aren’t handling their new understanding of the world very well :’)

Anyway, onto the story.

----------

Eighteen hours, fifty-seven minutes, and counting.

The cell was minimalistic and austere. Plain walls behind and beside him. Metal bars before him, looking out at a vacant wall. The opposite side of the holding area. His cell was one of about five in the short hallway, all lined against one side of it, with a door on either end. Each cell was a little under two metres wide and three deep. Saguru’s own cell was the second from the right.

Insofar as he could tell, he was the only one in this particular holding area. In the nineteen hours he had spent here, the only sounds he heard beyond his own breathing were those of officers. It would seem that most non-human individuals who displayed the clinically-induced violent reaction were swiftly neutralized without extenuating circumstances to protect them. He was lucky, he thought bitterly, that nepotism could guarantee him the civility of a holding cell rather than more immediate measures. For other, less fortunate individuals, Saguru imagined that containing them was seen as risky. Or a waste of resources better dedicated to human criminals who had willingly broken the law, rather than innocent non-human civilians forced into a hopeless situation.

How long they intended to hold him here, though, he didn’t know. For all he knew, it could be indefinite. Or he could be released tomorrow. Or meet some more final fate. The seconds ticked by.

Nineteen hours, five minutes. By his calculation, it was almost noon, assuming his timekeeping wasn’t too faulty without the aid of his pocket watch.

The heavy, industrial door fell open and then closed again, sounding out a dulled thud. Footsteps clicked against linoleum tile. Saguru estimated at least three officers, until he belatedly managed to pick out a fourth, much lighter set of steps. Someone slight. A child? He dearly hoped it wasn’t a child’s footsteps he was hearing. There was something strange about them, too. Something about the way that these steps struck and slided across the tile, making them sound…sharp?

The cluster came near enough he could just make out the line of one of the officer’s uniforms. He stayed seated on his cot, listening. He couldn’t see the majority of the group from here, let alone make out whether the owner of the smaller footsteps had, indeed, been a child. There was a solemn air as the door to the cell neighboring his own. Small footsteps padded inside. The cell door shut. A woman’s voice, strained and tense (not with fear—guilt? Stress?) said, “Someone will bring your dinner around seven.”

A beat, something like hesitation hovering in the air, and then the officers’ steps (all three sets) retreating down the hall. Saguru held his breath, waiting for the officers to be out of the holding area entirely.

Once they were gone, he continued to wait, listening in for any activity from his new neighbor.

Saguru’s own arrival into this situation had been a rather unexpected one for all parties involved. The issue was this: the world was rapidly becoming aware of the existence of supernaturally-inclined beings existing among them in society—generally referred to as youkai in Japan. Sensationalized media ensured that this was not well-received, but at the very least most inhuman individuals still managed to keep the truth under wraps and continue to assimilate. Until scientific innovation introduced a drug which garnered no reaction from virtually all humans, but revealed any magically obscured, glamoured, or otherwise concealed features that these other beings possessed. It also bore a few potential unfortunate side effects for some youkai. The most common of these was an uncontrollable violence, pushing the recipient into a dangerous frenzy. In other, rarer cases, the drug had even killed some. The kicker here was that Hakuba labs was a major proponent for the creation of the drug and helped pioneer it. Once the drug left clinical trials, it was determined that it needed to be administered to as much of the populace of Japan as possible, in order to catalog human and youkai population.

Hakuba Takahiro and his ex-wife, Rosalin Caldwell, were both humans. As far as anyone had been aware, Hakuba Saguru was also human. Saguru himself had never doubted this.

That didn’t explain the flurry of flame, the way he had tried to surge out his seat, the loss of sense or understanding, vision gone red in outrage. They had barely managed to restrain him. His father had almost been struck with the explosive fire, before Saguru had somehow managed to extinguish it.

On principle, Saguru had been opposed to the usage of the drug; frankly, the ethical implications were horrifying even without the potential for dangerous side-effects geared specifically toward one party of people. Nevermind the fact there were not yet any laws to protect youkai, nor any clear delineation of a plan to accommodate for them a place in society. He had considered refusing to participate in receiving it and thus being complicit in the cause, but his father had left him little room for argument.

Needless to say, it had all gone very badly. So far, Saguru had not been informed at all about what was being discussed with regards to his fate.

Hell, he still didn’t even understand why it had happened.

In the cell beside Saguru’s, his new neighbor seemed to be getting acquainted with the room. Those strange, precise footsteps seemed to walk its inner perimeter. A few moments later, he heard the sound of the cot squeaking and settling.

Breathing, even and measured, but in a forced way. A restrained way. Holding something in.

Saguru couldn’t think of a single thing he could say to improve the situation. He decided he would wait until he heard some indication that the other would even want conversation.

Hours of mutual silence later, the heavy door opened and shut again. Heavy footfalls approaching from down the hallway. Saguru guessed that it was probably for dinner.

“Who would have thought Beika city’s murder magnet really was a shinigami after all?” the officer observed with an amusement that Saguru found chilling. It seemed to be directed at the neighboring cell, as the officer hadn’t reached Saguru yet.

Beika city’s murder magnet… Dawning horror. There was only one person Saguru could think of who matched that morbid description.

Meanwhile, the officer was met with tense silence. After apparently handing off the food, he moved onto Saguru. Saguru started at him icily. He was silent, privately daring the man to breathe a word in his direction. The officer, this time, was equally silent.

Once the officer was gone, Saguru set his food aside. He didn’t have any appetite to speak of, right now. Instead, he needed to know. “Edogawa-kun, is that you?”

The response was a startled, stammered, “Haku—Hakuba nii-san?” Alarm colored his voice. Clearly, he was just as distressed to find someone familiar here.

Saguru’s heart sank. “Yes, indeed, it’s me.”

“What are you doing here?” Edogawa demanded.

Saguru laid back on the cot, exhaled long and slow. “I suppose I’m not human,” he said simply. “Believe me, it was a surprise to me, too.” He paused, and then ventured, “Are you unhurt?”

He tried to imagine what Edogawa must look like, now. The officer had called him a shinigami, but Saguru wasn’t entirely clear on what, visually, that entailed. Bat wings came to mind. He thought back to the strange sound of the boy’s footsteps. How much of his anatomy had been forced to change to its truer form because of the injection?

“More or less,” was Edogawa’s noncommittal response.

Saguru was still trying to get his head around the fact that the police had put a seven-year-old in a holding cell. Youkai or not, this was a child. What did they intend to do with him?

This had all been much easier when all Saguru had to worry about was his own fate.

Edogawa Conan, as it turned out, made a perfectly good neighbor, and even a pleasant conversation partner. The sheer amount of boredom that came with sitting in a cell with nothing to do for hours that stretched into days was almost enough to forget the horror of their situation. Either way, the only real escape—from the horror or the boredom—was to fill the space with conversation.

Fortunately, there was plenty to talk about. Old cases, literature, trading favorite Sherlock Holmes stories. The situation at hand. It was difficult not to discuss the problem they were in together, as they were both people who couldn’t help but try to study a problem from all angles in order to try to solve it. But inevitably the direction of those conversations turned dark too quickly for Saguru’s comfort. It wouldn’t do either of them any good to focus on the ways things could go wrong.

“Hey, Hakuba,” Edogawa said one day, apparently forgetting to use the honorific (or simply electing to drop it, there being very little bandwidth for Edogawa’s more childish act). “What are you, anyway?”

It was a blunt question, but over the past handful of days, they had mutually elected not to worry too much over politeness. Saguru faltered, before saying honestly, “I haven’t the slightest idea. I suspect one of my parents may not be biologically related to me, and whoever the other contributing party was, was some variety of youkai.” Yesterday, Saguru had been granted a visit by a scientist, who had studied him like a specimen and taken a variety of samples, all while Saguru remained restrained for the scientist’s safety. Never mind the fact that the more alarming skill he (apparently) possessed was manifesting fire without the use of any tools, so he wasn’t sure what good restraining him would do to anybody. Regardless, the examination had gone by without incident, and Saguru suspected that there had been some kind of DNA test conducted, although he had no confirmation as to the results.

Edogawa made a noise of consideration, lapsed into silence, then started again. “Did you change?” He asked, almost delicately.

“I don’t think I did,” Saguru told him. “As far as I can tell, visually everything is still the same as it had been. Admittedly, I haven’t seen my reflection since some time before the incident, so I can’t say with one hundred percent certainty.”

Quiet, again, and Saguru wondered if he should ask if Edogawa had changed, then decided against it. The other boy could tell him if he’d like, but otherwise Saguru didn’t want Edogawa to trouble him with it.

“So, they found out you were youkai because…”

“Because I had—an outburst, yes.” Understatement of the century.

Saguru could hear the grimace in Edogawa’s voice when he asked, “—Was everybody alright?”

“I—” Saguru recalled the violence of his reaction, the flames licking out and nearly making contact in a dangerous way with his father as well as one of the nurses. He recalled the feeling of a vicious snarl contorting his expression and the way he’d surged against the precautionary restraints.

He recalled going perfectly still as soon as he’d regained a handle on himself. The doctor approaching him with a new syringe, and the distant thought, Is he giving me a sedative or is he euthanising me? The foreign, turbulent rage churning inside of him until he’d gone under thanks to the shot (sedative, it turned out).

“Nobody got hurt,” Saguru assured him after a too-long silence. “It was—frightening. But nobody was hurt.”

“—I hurt a nurse,” Edogawa said, and his voice was the sort of stony that belied the great effort of holding in his emotions. “It could have been a lot worse, but I still hurt somebody. Really badly.”

“You can’t fault yourself for it,” Saguru said immediately, sternly. “It speaks volumes about your sense of accountability and responsibility, that you feel guilty for it, but it wasn’t your fault that it happened.”

“If you say so.”

It was their seventh day like this. Still, Saguru received no news any time he asked a passing officer for updates.

Earlier today, Hattori Heiji had visited, apparently to discreetly provide Edogawa some contraband (such as books). Edogawa had kindly requested that Hattori pass one of those books to Saguru. The other detective had been frankly shocked to realize he was here, and despite their usual animosity, the other boy had seemed mostly genuinely concerned for him. When Saguru asked if there was anything Hattori could tell him about the situation, it had been a definite negative. Apparently his situation was being kept well out of the hands of the media, at least for now. Saguru could only imagine his father must have told the school that he was on some sort of vacation, or had accepted a case which required him to head overseas again. Nobody would be worried about him, then.

Now, the visit was over and they had lapsed into silence while they, for the moment, privately entertained themselves. Rather than read, Saguru had tucked the book away for later, and was instead practicing what little exercise he could to keep his body active. Right now it was warm-up stretches. He desperately ached to go on a run.

At some point, Edogawa cut into the silence.

“What do you think is going to happen, Hakuba?” and then, hastily added, “—nii-san.” He sounded pensive, uncertain. He didn’t sound afraid, but Saguru thought that he might be anyway.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, opting for honesty rather than false hope. “It’s been a week and we’re still here. I don’t know what anyone’s plan for us is.”

“Yeah…” Edogawa trailed off, deep in thought. Saguru wondered if it would have been better to say that he was sure things would wind up working out. The problem was, he wasn’t sure. He had been under the impression that he would be placed under holding until they worked out the best circumstance to harness or otherwise stifle his apparent abilities, and then return him to something like normal life, but with a tight leash.

But now it had been seven days, with no developments, and Saguru was beginning to wonder if this was all much more dire than he had thought.

They both went quiet again, only for Edogawa to speak up just as abruptly as he had before. “—I need to tell you something.”

Puzzled, Saguru went still. “Proceed.”

“It’s pretty unbelievable, so I need you to bear with me. Okay?”

Edogawa seemed to do a lot of things that fell quite near the ‘unbelievable’ category, in Saguru’s experience. Much like Kuroba tended to, although they had different styles in the ways they defied reality. “I’ll do my best to keep an open mind,” he assured Edogawa.

“My name isn’t really Edogawa Conan,” he began.

And the sky was blue, and Kaitou KID was Kuroba Kaito. “Mm.”

“It’s actually Kudou Shin’ichi, and I’m really seventeen, not seven.”

So this is what Edogawa meant when he said it was unbelievable. He couldn’t help but wonder if Edogawa was engaging in a delusion to cope with the frankly traumatic situation they had found themselves in. “Is that so?” he inquired, honoring his promise to keep an open mind. Edogawa was right, though. This was difficult to believe.

Edogawa made an irritated sound, like he could tell Saguru didn’t believe him. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, and almost no one knows. I want you to know. I—a year and a half ago, I went with Ran to Tropical Land, and worked that case with the roller coaster beheading.”

Saguru recalled the news reports of that case all too well. Truly, it had been a particularly gruesome case, so he was eternally gratefully it hadn’t been him on the scene.

“There were these suspicious men there, and after I solved the case I left Ran so I could tail them and figure out what they were up to. But one of them surprised me from behind, knocked me out, and gave me this—drug,” allegedly-Kudou-Shin’ichi explained. “It was supposed to kill me via apoptosis, but instead it… de-aged me. ”

It was certainly a lot to process. It felt a little bit like the plot of a bad science fiction. But he spoke with urgency, and he was clearly being genuine. Although Saguru was still inclined to lean toward delusion, he decided to consider his way through the facts he had from his limited research into the whereabouts of Kudou Shin’ichi. It was true that the same day Kudou disappeared, Mouri Ran had wound up taking in Edogawa Conan. It would explain the strange amount of knowledge and understanding Edogawa possessed, especially in terms of investigating crime scenes and solving cases. It also clarified anachronistic errors—moments when Edogawa would say he’d seen something when it was first released, even though it should have come out well before his birth date.

After analyzing the facts, Saguru realized there was nothing (beyond his own understanding of scientific development) that disproved the claim. None of the facts he had specifically proved it either, though. He didn’t know the other detective well enough to quiz Edogawa in order to prove it for himself, either.

He thought back to their previous conversation. They didn’t know, really, what would become of them here. If they would make it out of here. Perhaps this was a delusion, but if so, Saguru didn’t think it would do any good to deny the other that. It certainly wouldn’t change anything for the better in the short term.

Saguru resolved that he would take the other boy at his word, and, should he have the means and opportunity if they got out of this, he’d pursue it more critically then.

“—I see,” he said, nodding slowly although Kudou couldn’t see him. “It is good to have gotten to know you, then, Kudou-kun. I’m sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances.”

When the other boy next spoke, it was obvious to Saguru that something coiled very tightly had unwound. The relief was nearly palpable. “It’s good to meet you too, Hakuba-kun. Here’s to hoping we make it out of this so that we can keep getting to know each other.”

They could only hope. “I’ll do my best to remain optimistic,” Saguru murmured in agreement.

[astonishinglegends]

Ep 202: The Scrying Game

“The scryer does not seek reflections, but visions.”

– Donald Tyson, author of "Scrying for Beginners: Use Your Unconscious Mind to See Beyond the Senses

Description:

Who among us hasn't wanted to know the future or have insight into the hidden, at least in passing? From the first instance a human had a premonition that came true, it seems likely that the adventurous who were shocked and astounded wondered how those without the "gift" could duplicate this impossible experience. Then, when someone stared too intently into a reflective pool of liquid, a glowing ember, or even the night sky, and experienced an extrasensory perception, a technique and its medium are discovered to tap into a sixth sense. Practiced now for millennia, this procedure for obtaining occult information has become known as scrying. One interesting observation is that although there are general guidelines for preparing oneself and performing a scrying session, many mediums can facilitate the phenomenon. It appears that any object can be used that can capture the light and dazzle the eye, or a reflective surface that can offer deep introspection or a dark void that focuses the senses. But then the burning question becomes, how does this process work, and from where does the information come? Does this "second sight" materialize from deep within ourselves, external omniscience, or some combination of both? In tonight's episode, we'll look at the elements, the history, and the concepts behind this ancient and mysterious means of knowing the unknowable.

Reference Links:

Scrying on Wikipedia

The 1992 motion picture, The Crying Game

Samhain

Lori Williams’ Controlled Remote Viewing website IntuitiveSpecialists.com

Russell Targ

Crystal Gazing – Its History and Practice, with a Discussion of the Evidence for Telepathic Scrying, by Northcote W. Thomas, M.A.

Benjamin, from the Old Testament or “Hebrew Bible”

“The Forgotten Art of Scrying” by Fernando S. Gallegos on ExploringTraditions.com

Bernardino de Sahagún

Moctezuma II

Nostradamus

John Dee

Edward Kelley

“Notes on John Dee’s Aztec Mirror” by Ed Simon on NorthernRenaissance.org

Horace Walpole

“Making a Sigilum Dei Aemeth out of Wax [Esoteric Saturdays]” on YouTube

Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn

Thelema

“Joseph Smith's "Magic" Glasses and Other Bizarre Objects from Mormonism” on ranker.com

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Credits:

Episode 202: The Scrying Game. Produced by Scott Philbrook & Forrest Burgess; Audio Editing by Sarah Vorhees Wendel. Sound Design by Ryan McCullough; Tess Pfeifle, Producer, and Lead Researcher; Research Support from the astonishing League of Astonishing Researchers, a.k.a. The Astonishing Research Corps, or "A.R.C." for short. Copyright 2021 Astonishing Legends Productions, LLC. All Rights Reserved.

[reyesstrand]

for the tarlos prompts :) 45 & 94? hope you have a good day!

i hope you have a good day too!! thank you for the prompt!! 💗 

feel free to send me a number from this list if you’d like! read on AO3 here! 

They’re probably going to give each other heart attacks, one of these days. 

TK’s never dated a fellow first-responder before Carlos; hell, he’s barely dated anyone with similar life experiences before. Sure, there were a couple boys back in high school that never amounted to anything serious, and then Alex was his entire life for two years after finishing the academy when he was twenty. But Alex worked a desk job, and one day wanted to be a teacher; he worked a nine-to-five, had benefits, and kept to a tight schedule. TK never had to worry when he went to work. Now, the nervousness runs in a two-way street — Carlos worries about TK and TK worries about Carlos, and every night that they get to come home to one another, when their schedules actually line up, the relief washes over them in waves. 

But it’s been rough for the last little while. Not only have their shifts rarely overlapped, but Buttercup had a health scare a few days ago. He was okay, thankfully, the whole team was assured it was just a stomach bug, but it’s been chewing away at the back of TK’s mind ever since. It especially doesn’t help that TK’s standing here now, being forced to just wait while Carlos and his partner are tasked with securing an active shooter scene. 

Fire and EMS had been called in as backup since they were in the area, and while Owen had mostly sent them off to help with crowd control, Paul, TK and Marjan were assisting Tim and Nancy as they checked vitals of witnesses. Several police cruisers were parked in a jagged line to separate on-lookers and the house that apparently had an armed man inside, and TK keeps finding himself glancing at the barrier that’s physically keeping him from his boyfriend, and he hates it. 

He startles when his dad comes up from behind him, after he’s confirmed the stable BP of one of the young girls that lives in the neighbouring house, letting her go off to find her mom. The comforting weight of his father’s hand rests on his shoulder, and TK swallows. “You okay?” 

TK makes a vague sound of affirmation in the back of his throat. He keeps his eyes trained on the house, before glancing over to some of the waiting officers to see if their expressions change as they get updates through their radios. Then it’s back to the house, watching for any movement.

“Look at me, TK,” his dad says, and TK sighs and turns to him. His dad’s eyebrows are furrowed in concern, and TK knows he’s mirroring him exactly. “He’s going to be okay, son.” 

“I know,” TK lies, his voice rough. He tries to clear his throat and drags a hand down his face, trying not to think of all the shit that could be going down inside the house. And of course, that’s when a gunshot rings out, sounding like an echo as it’s muffled by the house. The crowd reacts around him, jerking back in surprise; TK feels his stomach drop to the floor as he stumbles forward, and he makes it three or four steps before Judd grabs him, tall and sturdy enough to only need to block him with one arm against his chest. 

“Let me go,” TK says, voice strained, and Judd just shakes his head. 

“You gotta let them do their jobs, kid,” Judd says, gruff and taking no shit, and TK wants to protest but the logical side of him tells him to stay put with his team; they need to let the trained,  bullet-proof vest-wearing people in. The part of him that knows the love of his life has possibly been shot; the part of him that feels that he could be doing something to help is making it hard to breathe. He has to remind himself of the trick his therapist told him about when he was fifteen; he inhales deeply and holds it in for a long few seconds, concentrating on counting out to eight as he exhales. TK does it three or four more times until he feels grounded once more, and Judd loosens his grip, but he’s still a comforting presence. It happens in time for the house’s front door to open, as a disgruntled looking man steps outside, hands cuffed behind his back. 

And Carlos is the one leading him out. 

TK almost physically slumps to the ground as he watches several other officers walk forward to take the man into custody, guiding him toward one of the squad cars; someone puts a hand on Carlos’ shoulder as he explains what happened, and the sergeant speaking to him jerks her thumb over her shoulder toward Michelle and the ambulance and Carlos is nodding, and TK watches every small movement he makes. He looks unharmed, at least from a distance, and TK finds his feet moving as Carlos stalls in front of his friend, letting Michelle guide him to sitting on the edge of the back of the ambulance. 

TK catches snippets of conversation as he approaches; Michelle telling Carlos to stay put so she can check him over while his boyfriend insists he’s fine. TK tries not to let his worry show on his face, but Carlos knows him well enough to pick up on it the second he sees him. 

“Ty, hey—”

“Are you okay?” TK asks, looking him over with a careful eye. He finds himself starting to ramble, a nervous habit. “Does anything hurt? We heard the gunshot go off, we thought that someone was hit and I—”

Carlos reaches forward, despite Michelle trying to secure a BP cuff around his bicep, and takes TK’s hands in his. “Hey, hey, I’m okay. I swear. Our guy accidentally shot a round into the wall, nobody was injured. Sarge just wants everyone to be checked over.” 

TK feels his eyes burning. It’s comforting to know that it was a false alarm, but how many times will they get lucky? He knows that time isn’t guaranteed, and he’s trying to accept that, but having so many scares himself this last year and dealing with his dad’s ongoing treatment kind of catches up to him all at once, especially staring in his boyfriend’s eyes now. 

His shoulders sag, a bit. He’s vaguely aware of Michelle’s presence as she digs through supplies in the back of her rig, so he says it quietly, as Carlos’ thumb drags over his knuckles. “I can’t—I won’t lose you, too, Carlos.” 

“You’re not going to lose me, Ty,” Carlos whispers, his voice breaking through the fog of TK’s mind. He steps closer because he can’t help it, and he lets go of Carlos’ hands only to frame his boyfriend’s face with them. “You’re not going to lose anyone.”

TK smiles, just a little upturn to the corner of his mouth, swiping his thumb along the sharp jut of Carlos’ jawline for a brief moment before Michelle lightly clears her throat, a twinkle of a knowing gaze in her eyes. 

“Um, sorry, I’ll leave you to it,” TK says, glancing at the paramedic captain quickly before meeting Carlos’ stare again. “I’ll see you tonight?” 

Carlos nods in confirmation, clearly noticing the anxious tremble of his fingers, even as TK slips away to the rest of the 126. 

* * *

Later that evening, after they’ve eaten takeout and started some B-list movie they love as a guilty pleasure, TK finds himself drifting away into his thoughts. He’s in his claimed spot on Carlos’ couch, curled up in the corner with one leg draped over Carlos’ lap, his boyfriend absentmindedly tapping against his knee. 

“I’m sorry for earlier,” TK says, pulling Carlos’ eyes away from the screen. They settle, so open and earnest, on him, and TK’s stomach swoops. “I kinda freaked out.” 

“I would’ve been doing the same had everything been reversed,” Carlos shrugs a little, but his jaw tenses. “I don’t want you to worry about me, Ty. I know it’s inevitable, but I hate the thought of you getting worked up over worst-case scenarios.” 

TK chews down hard on his bottom lip. “It’s pretty hard to say that when I know you worry about me.”

“Hey, I’m not denying that. I think this is something we’re just going to have to work through, baby,” Carlos says, squeezing his knee. “It’s just...I can’t imagine this world without you. Plain and simple. So we just have to talk and be open with each other because I love you, TK, and I hate to see you upset.”

“I love you too,” TK replies quickly, knowing that’s the truth deep to his bones. Nothing will stop him from loving Carlos, not when he held himself back for so long. “I’m not giving up on this, honey.” 

Carlos grins at him, that private one reserved just for him, and TK moves closer to wrap his arms around his boyfriend, always longing for his touch. He presses his mouth to Carlos’ throat as he feels strong arms wrap around him, holding him tight and TK feels the unspoken promise passing between them, one that says that neither of them plan on ever letting go.