#choking on my tears but that’s so silly because they’re fine and alive!!!!!!!

[tabithatwo]

natalie scatorccio and jackie taylor are living breathing milfs btw !! i don’t know where the death allegations came from but they’re literally fine and alive actually so !!

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Stronger Together

"Dreamer!"

Lena's alarm sears across Nia's senses. She registers the danger at the corner of her eye-- a Brevakk ripping off his sleeves to expose the keratinized spurs protruding from his arms. One sweep of his arm and she'll be dead, skewered in a spray of thick quills sharp enough to penetrate her suit and lacerate any organ they could reach. But she's locked in battle with a K'hund attacking from the front, so all she can do is brace for the inevitable impact.

Suddenly, Nia's view of the Brevakk is eclipsed by the shadow of Lena's back.

"NO!"

The force of the thorns' impact knocks Lena fron her feet, slamming into Nia and causing them both to go down with a cry. Lena's gauntlet fires once, stunning the Brevakk with a glancing blow. Nia throws her own arm out towards her opponent in a desperate bid to gain some ground. The blast of dream energy sends him flying, and when Nia doesn't notice that he doesn't rise again. Her attention is locked on Lena, and the half dozen quills that have found a home in her chest.

"Lena, Lena, oh my god." Nia's hands shake as she climbs out from under Lena and kneels beside her on the pavement. "No, no, no..."

Lena's eyes are glassy and dazed. She looks down at the horns, reaching drunkenly towards them only for Nia to pull her hands away.

"Why did you do that?"

Nia's suit wouldn't have helped much, but it was better than Lena's blouse-- a silly silken thing now ripped and torn, digging into the edges of the wounds around the quills. Lena had no protection beside her gauntlet, and still she had jumped between them.

"N-nia..." Lena's voice crackles in her throat. She coughs, and blood spatters across her chin, staining her berry-red lips a color far more sinister.

Nia's heart lurches with panic. Her head whips up in search of Kara, but Supergirl isn't here. She's on the other side of the city with J'onn, fighting further unrest there. Her eyes lock on another figure, black leather instead of blue.

"ALEX!!"

Nia's shriek cuts through the din, and Sentinel's head whips towards her. In an instant, the pistol in her hand shifts into a warhammer, and Alex slams it down on her opponent, all thoughts of mitigating casualties forgotten. She skids to her knees beside Nia, nearly elbowing her out of the way to crouch over Lena.

"Lena? Jesus... Lena! Can you hear me? Look at me, look at me--"

Lena's eyes track to Alex, and Nia chokes on a sob when she sees the fear in them. But Alex only calms.

"Good, you're okay," Alex tells her, stroking Lena's hair once with a gentle hand. "You're going to be okay."

With her free hand, Alex fumbles for the watch on Lena's wrist, flipping open its face and silently pressing the symbol embossed there. She doesn't take her eyes off Lena for a moment, and when the signal is active Alex slides her palm into Lena's, which curls tightly around hers.

"H-hurts--"

Lena's breath begins to quicken, and the corners of her eyes pinch with the onset of pain. The shock is quickly wearing off, leaving nothing to dull the pain. Alex nods, giving Lena's hand a squeeze.

"I know, but it's going to be okay," she promises. "We're going to get you somewhere safe--"

Supergirl touches down at the moment, pavement cracking beneath the force of her panic. "Lena!!"

Kara kneels opposite her sister, taking in the damage with wide eyes. She grips Lena's free hand tightly, even as she looks to Alex for instructions.

"Hospital," Alex says simply, urgency clipping her tone. "Now."

Kara nods, and gently maneuvers Lena into her arms. Lena cries out, the sound sharp in Nia's ears. When Nia blinks, tears dampen the fabric of her mask.

"I'm sorry," Kara murmurs, pressing her nose to the side of Lena's head. "I'm sorry."

"K-kar--" Lena gasps for breath, coughing up more blood. Her back now visible, Nia sees that one of the thorns has penetrated so deeply that it tents the back of Lena's shirt.

"It's okay," Kara echoes the well-meaning lie of her sister. "I've got you."

In a burst of wind, Kara takes off, and Nia sits dazed in her wake. It's long moments before she registers Alex's insistent hands tugging her up.

"It was supposed to be me," Nia intones, flat with shock. "She--"

"I know," Alex cuts her off, not unkindly. She tugs Nia to her feet then shoves her into a run. "But we need to go. Now!"

Together, they make their retreat, leaving the alley and the unconscious aliens behind just as the distant wail of approaching sirens cuts through the air.

---

Nia wastes no time in stripping off her costume and changing back into her civvies. But before she can reach the exit, Alex cuts her off. "You can't go to the hospital."

Surprise jolts through Nia, before its quickly replaced with anger. "Are you insane?"

"Nia--"

"I can't just wait here-- she-- those barbs were meant for me, Alex! She's hurt because of me. I can't not be there!"

"Kara just called."

Time seems to freeze. Nia feels ice pool in her veins as a lump climbs to her throat and lodges there. "No..."

Alex rushes to reassure her. "No! That's not-- no, Lena's still in surgery. But-- the police are there."

Nia's relief that Lena is alive cuts short with confusion. "What? Why?"

"They're there to take Lena into custody."

"They can't do that!"

"She's aided and abetted known vigilantes," Alex explains. "With everything that's been happening lately--"

"It's not right!"

"Lena will be fine. Truly. Kara is going to CatCo to get Andrea to make the arrest as public as possible. Between that and the Luthor reputation, my guess is that they'll question her about our identities and then let her go."

"That's-- that's--" Nia struggles to find words through her growing rage. The helplessness of the past few months, the rising anti-alien sentiments, the crackdown on Supergirl on her friends... it all comes to a head, and Nia can barely breathe.

Alex reaches for Nia's hand. "If you go now, you'll only risk exposing yourself. Lena wouldn't want that."

Nia sucks in a breath, but it comes in a sob. The next thing she knows, Alex's arms are around her and she's crying into her shoulder, huge lurching sobs that feel like the world is quaking around her.

"It's okay," Alex promises.

"It's my fault," Nia gasps. "It's all my fault..."

"Lena's going to be okay."

---

Nia may not be able to go to the hospital, but she can't stay in the Tower either. In the end she goes to CatCo, ready to throw her weight behind Kara's pitch to fry the police in the press. Luckily, Andrea doesn't need the convincing.

"I want both of you on this," their boss delivers with a coolness sharpened to a razors edge by the glint of rage in her eyes. "William too. I want you to dig up anything you can find about the arresting officers. Any whisper of corruption within the NCPD that you might have been sitting on, now is your time to air it. CatCo won't stand for this."

Nia and Kara both nod solemnly before retreating to their desks. But instead of diverting to her own desk, Kara follows Nia to hers.

"How are you holding up?"

The gentle question threatens a resurgence of tears. Nia looks away, only for her eyes to catch on the photo of her and Lena on her desk, taken at one of their sister nights the year before. Nia can't remember the last time they've hung out, just the two of them.

Blinking furiously, Nia flips the picture down and opens up her laptop. "Fine."

"It's okay to not be fine..."

"Do you want to know if I'm angry that my friend is alone in the hospital because of me? Fine! I'm angry!"

Kara's features soften. "Nia..."

"It's my fault she's there in the first place!" Nia hisses. The lump returns to her throat, and her eyes burn with unshed tears. "She just, just... she just jumped between us! I should've--"

"Hey." Kara calms her with a hand on her shoulder. Nia sucks in a breath, then another, trying to steady herself. Finally, Kara's features pinch into a bemused smile. "You know Lena... There's no line she won't cross, for the people she cares about."

Instead of comforting her, Kara's words only makes Nia grit her teeth. She turns back to the computer. They better be willing to do the same for her.

"Let's get to work."

----

The first article runs the following morning, skewering the police department for rampant anti-alien abuses while highlighting Lena's charity and outreach. While it's not quite enough to banish the police presence from the hospital, it does get a single visitor in to see Lena. Nia expects Kara to take it, but to her surprise Kara simply nods her towards the door.

"Go," Kara says softly. "Give her our love."

Nia doesn't stop to ask twice. She's ushered into Lena's hospital room by a kindly looking nurse, glaring at the officer posted outside the door on her way in. The second her eyes land on Lena, rage swells in her chest at the side of the handcuffs tethering Lena to the bed.

"Is that really necessary?" she demands, balling her hands into fists. "Where is she going to go?"

"Nia..." Lena's soft voice from the bed interrupts her before she can gather much steam. "It's okay."

Nia huffs, eyeing the way the officer slowly moves his hand from his sidearm when Nia turns back to the room. But then all she can see is Lena, hair limp and torso bulky with bandages under her hospital gown.

"It's not okay," Nia says, sitting in the chair thats been placed next to Lena's bed.

"It's just a misunderstanding," Lena insists, her gaze sliding towards the door. The door itself remains open, denying them any sense of privacy. But Lena doesn't seem to mind when her gaze returns to Nia. "You okay?"

Nia chokes on her own tongue. "Am I--? Lena, you're in the hospital..."

"And I'm okay." Lifting her cuffed wrist, Lena silently reaches for Nia's hand, which Nia offers without hesitation. "Promise."

All of a sudden, the tears come back, pressing against her eyelids as she squeezes her eyes shut. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry--"

"It's okay," Lena assures her. "I'm okay."

"You shouldn't have--"

"Been there in the alley? When that guy tried to mug me?" Lena asks pointedly. Clearly, she's already established her cover story. "You're right, I should have known better." She pitches her voice loud enough to carry to the door. "I'm just lucky Sentinel and Dreamer were there to help me."

They wait a moment to listen for a response, but when none comes, they devolve into a fit of giggles.

"Ow," Lena grimaces with a cough. "No laughing for a while."

Nia tightens her grip on Lena's hand. "I... Lena, I'm so sorry--"

"I'd do it again," Lena returns, softly this time. Her words are for Nia alone. "That's what friends do."

---

Alex turns out to be right. As soon as Lena is well enough to leave the hospital, she's taken to the precinct for interrogation, but between CatCo's articles stirring up enough local support that a crowd forms around the precinct to protest the arrest, and the kind of lawyers a Luthor can acquire even after abandoning the family legacy, Lena is released without charge in a matter of hours.

Nia stays at the Tower hoping to see her, but Lena doesn't come.

"She's guessed she's probably being watched," Alex tells her. "She'll being laying low for a while til the heat dies down. All the better, honestly. It'll give her time to heal."

Nia swallows thickly. "Where is she?"

"Home. Kara's with her, but I'm sure she'd love to see you."

Nia approaches Lena's condo without much of a plan. She's armed with snacks and movies, but she knows that having Kara there won't give Nia the time with Lena she needs. She misses Lena, all more the more since she realized how long it had been since they'd just been... friends. More than allies, more than teammates, just... friends.

It feels like Maeve all over again.

But she swallows her nerves and takes the elevator up. Kara opens the door just as Nia lifts her hand to knock.

"Hey," Kara says quietly. She steps aside to let Nia in, and though she can hear the tv from the next room, they linger in the foyer.

"Is everything okay?" Kara asks.

Nia nods. "Yeah. Um. I just--"

She doesn't have an explanation either. Nia stares at her feet, until Kara breaks the silence.

"Look, I have a favor to ask..."

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind staying with Lena for a few hours?"

When Nia looks up, she finds Kara scrubbing the back of her head with one hand, looking sheepish.

"Yeah," she continues, "I've been kind of... hovering? And I think it's getting on her nerves a little. So I figured I could get some stuff done at CatCo--"

"Yes," Nia blurts. "Yes, of course. I'll stay."

Kara grins. "Thanks. She's in the living room now, if you want to..."

"Right. Yeah, I've got this. Go."

Kara thanks her with another smile that makes her whole face shine. "Call if you need anything."

She slips out the door with a wink, and locks it behind her. Nia walks to the living room on wooden legs, and finds Lena laying on the couch against a pile of pillows, propping her up to take the pressure off her wounds.

She looks up when Nia enters, and though her eyes are tired, her features crease into a smile. "Hey..."

"Hey."

Lena struggles to sit up, prompting Nia to close the distance swiftly. "No, no, no, stay comfy."

Relenting with a sigh, Lena groans. "Not like I have much choice these days."

"It'll get better."

Silence follows. Nia stands awkwardly, hands gripping her bag of candy tightly until Lena regards it with curiosity.

"What's all this?"

Nia starts. "Oh. Uhm... I thought-- well, I was wondering..." She trails off, shoulders slumping. "It's been a while since we've had sister's night."

When Lena doesn't answer, Nia risks a glance up to find Lena blinking in astonishment, before her features soften to warmth. She smiles.

"Well, there's no time like the present."

Lena lifts her arms, making playful grabby motions with her hands.

"What'd you bring me?"

----

Hours later, Kara returns home to find Nia seated on the couch with Lena's legs across her lap. It's as close to cuddling as Lena can get, with her injuries, and the way Nia's hands are spread over Lena's shins tells Kara that the contacr was very much needed.

Lena sleeps peacefully, the tv low in the background. Nia looks up at Kara from the shadows, the light reflecting in the tear tracks painted on her cheeks. Without a word, Kara slips in next to Nia, working her way under Lena's ankles to wrap one arm around the younger girl's shoulders.

Nia hugs her back, shaking quietly with the effort to keep her crying silent.

"It's okay," Kara whispers. Nia nods against her. So long as they were all together, they could get through anything.

"We're going to be okay."

[its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons]

The Brother’s Reaction to MC having a Nightmare

bAby

this gif... holy SHIT 

Lucifer

Whether you started the evening snuggled up under his chin or all alone in your room, he’s an extremely light sleeper since he’s got to keep an ear out for Mammon being stupid at 2 am

So when you start to move restlessly and/or whimper and cry, naturally he’ll awaken and see what the issue is

Lucifer will sit up and gently rest a tentative hand on your trembling shoulder, so as not to startle you

His presence only seemed to make it worse! Your tears got bigger and your cries got louder, your breathing became more uneven until you woke with a start, your own shrill scream scaring you into a frightened, crying ball in front of him

Boi is at a loss…

Was this his fault?

“MC, darling, what has gotten into you? Are you alright?”

“L-Lucifer?” You whimper, watery eyes roving aimlessly in the darkness “L-L-Lucifer?! Where are-”

Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, he reassures you: “I’m here, right here princess,” “I’ve got you, it was just a dream MC... nothing to worry about.”

Strokes your head, smoothing your rumpled hair and supporting your back while you hide your puffy, tearstained face in his collar and cling to him for dear life until you calm down

You’re still shaking when the usually stiff demon presses a kiss to the crown of your head and begins to rock from side to side, murmuring gentle, reassuring words in your ear

“Nothing can hurt you as long as you’re in my arms, MC.” “Deep breaths my love, deep breaths…”

Mammon’s vivid scary stories before bed had obviously been a bad decision, Lucifer decided as he dabbed your cheeks with a kleenex

his poor, sweet human having nightmares about silly campfire tales…

How endearing, yet upsetting

He’ll carry you to the kitchen bridal style and hold you close after getting you a glass of water, then carry you back to bed and tuck you safely against his broad chest for the rest of the night making a mental note to hang Mammon upside down from the banister the following morning

Mammon

He woke up from his dream about goldie who had read “∞” on the ATM and opened his door in answer to the frantic knock to find his favorite human crying

You rushed into his arms, burying your face in his chest to hide your shuddering sobs, nearly sending the now blushing Avatar of Greed off balance in your haste

“Jeez, human! Wha… What happened? Why’re ya crying like that?”

No, like seriously, plz stop crying babie or he’s gonna cry too

Returns the hug, holding MC firmly as he regains his footing and manages to shut the door behind you

“MC, sssh, I’m right here! You don’t hafta worry, ok? Luckily you’ve got the best demon on the job to make ya feel better! Hug me as hard as ya need, ok?”

*forehead and cheek smooches*

Lets you curl up in his lap until you can talk to him without stuttering or choking on tears

Holds you the whole time, almost as if he’s afraid to let go for fear you’ll cry again

“Bad dream? What was it about?”

“Th-Those characters from Levi’s horror game w-were eating you alive and I c-couldn’t move!” You whimper tearfully, “You were begging me for help a-and I couldn’t do anything to save you from them because every time I moved th-these ropes got t-tighter around my neck a-an-”

First of all, he’s horrified that Levi showed you those games when he knew they gave you nightmares. Unfortunately, you had to if you didn’t want to be called a normie for the billionth time that week

Second, he, the great Mammon, begging a mere human for help? Yeah right

Even though he knew in his heart of hearts that that would definitely be the case

“They’re not real, remember that. And if you still think those freaks are lurking in the dark, come find me and the great Mammon will protect you!”

You can't help but giggle and hug him more tightly, knocking him back onto his pillow

Neither of you felt like moving, so Mammon pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and you snuggle together until the morning comes

At the breakfast table, Mammon doesn’t hesitate to screech at Levi for giving you nightmares while cradling your tired, sleep-deprived body against him

Leviathan

Doesn’t hear MC’s knock at first, he’s too absorbed in the 14th episode of I Was Eating Avocado Salmon Sushi at a Hundred-Yen Revolving Sushi Restaurant When Suddenly I Was Thrown Back in Time a Thousand Years to the Heian Era, Where I Was Selected to Be a Personal Chef for a Princess and Was Later Chosen as a Possible Candidate to Be Her Husband… Now someone Please Tell Me How That’s Even Possible

As the knocking gets louder and more frantic, the otaku finally notices and pauses the anime, goes to the door and opens it a tiny bit

Just enough to see the teary-eyed MC, hugging their waist in discomfort, shivering in fear, and looking left and right down the hall for danger

“... Yeah?”

“L-Levi? C-Can I come in? *sniff* I just had a really scary dream-”

“I-uh… Ummm I g-guess,”

He lets you in and on a whim, places a tentative hand on your back

He expected you to push him away, but when you choked and rushed into his half-open arms and buried your face in his chest, leviachan.exe has stopped working

EXIT

What was he supposed to do with his hands?!?!??

MC was crying and he was just standing there like a normie? Wh… WhAt wOULd HenRy dO?

“MC, h-hey, it cant’ve been that bad… here, um let’s s-sit down a-and you can talk to me. Sound good?”

He feels you nod and leads you to his large gaming beanbag chair and you get squooshed against his side, shivering and sniveling, but warm and safe

Levi dries your face with the edge of his shirt and after a few moments of comfortable silence, you begin to explain your dream

The slimy creatures scaling the walls of the House of Lamentation with their slimy entrails dripping whitish goo in their wake. Eight spindly legs to each monster, sixteen sinister red eyes, and countless rows of gleaming fangs ready to take a chunk out of anyone who came too close

They managed to get into the house and they chased you and the brothers, but the otaku had tripped over a fallen suit of armor and a spider creature made its move before he could get away

At that point, you’d woken up absolutely terrified and rushed to see if Levi was ok

“But you’ve played horror games with me and we watched My Sister and I Found a Spider and Took It Home, Realizing Soon After it Was a Demon Who Eventually Escaped From the Glass Jar We Used for a House and Ate Our Toes, Transporting Us To Hell Where We Were F-”

“Yeah… I know… B-But it wasn’t that bad. I was reading one of the books Satan recommended. It was a really well-written horror story and it had very realistic pictures. I just can’t seem to get those gross monsters out of my head:(”

Your voice slowly trailed off and Levi realized what he had accomplished

You… You weren’t crying anymore!!

Also, you weren’t breathing really hard or shaking too much! Had… had this yucky otaku really calmed the human down?

*gasp* he was rubbing your back too!? And you hadn’t slapped his icky hands away?

You… you were ok with this? B-Being all snuggled up together on the beanbag chair?

“L-Levi, I-I’m ok now. I’ll leave you alone… I hope I didn’t wake you up…”

“N-No!”

“Something wrong?”

“No… I-um,” (he couldn’t let you get away now! This was perfect! He had you all to himself!! No WAY was he gonna screw this up!!) “You c-can stay a little longer if you’d like… I-I was in the middle of I Was Eating Avocado Salmon Sushi at a Hundred-Yen Revolving Sushi Restaurant When Suddenly I Was Thrown Back in Time a Thousand Years to the Heian Era, Where I Was Selected to Be a Personal Chef for a Princess and Was Later Chosen as a Possible Candidate to Be Her Husband… Now someone Please Tell Me How That’s Even Possible… Do you maybe want to stay and watch?”

“You don’t mind? I don’t want to intrude-”

“No! It’s fine!”

And so he fumbled with the remote and hit the play button, but couldn’t focus on a single word the protagonists were saying

You. Fell. Asleep.

On. Him.

Uh

“Maybe… Maybe MC doesn’t think I’m a… ‘yucky otaku’ after all… But don’t get your hopes up, Levi.”

Satan

He fell asleep in his chair, book resting on his chest when he heard a short, quick (almost frantic) string of taps on his door

Being a light sleeper (just like his papa), he immediately woke up to hear your voice on the other side of the door

“Satan? Are… Are you awake? *sniffle*”

It was you

What could you possibly want at this hour?

Upon opening the door, your body crashed into his own, but not before impulsively throwing your arms around his neck and breaking down on his shoulder

“M-MC? Are you alright?”

No, you weren’t

Judging by your stormy sobs and trembling figure, something must have shaken you up horribly for you to act like this

The sweet MC he knew usually kept their cool

He leads you to his big armchair and sits you down, careful to keep a firm hand on your back for support, both emotional and physical

Your eyes were wide and glassy, pupils darting to each corner of the room looking for monsters, bad demons, giant bugs, etc.

Finding none, you finally make shy eye contact with the blonde demon who has kept his arms close about you and dabbed your endless tears away until you were calm enough to speak

“MC, did you have a night terror or something?”

“*sniffle* M-hm. I-I’m sorry S-Satan, I was just so scared I c-couldn’t stay in my room all alone and you were the first person I thought of. So… I ran here. Did I wake you?”

“I fell asleep in my chair again MC. So I would have awakened during the night anyway,” He replied, “Plus, I don’t mind at all. I’m… I’m happy you came. What was your dream about?”

“It was really twisted… are you sure you want to know?”

“You’ll feel better when you talk about it and I’m always up for a story.” He smiled.

He sat back in his chair tentatively resting your head on his chest as you began describing the terrors from only minutes before

“Asmodeus and I, we watched some of those cringey teen romance movies this afternoon and somehow they morphed into a really scary dream. You and I, the rest of your brothers, the angels, Solomon, Diavolo, and even Barbatos were playing spin the bottle for some reason and I landed on you, but when I kissed you, you turned to dust! Th-Then when I landed on Mammon and Beel, the s-same thing happened again, but no one seemed to notice! Th-”

Noticing you were getting worked up again, Satan rubbed soothing circles into your back, hushing you gently and assuring you that everything was fine and ‘innocent’ kissing games weren’t actually deadly

Unless they were

But he didn’t mention that to you at that moment

Instead, he cradled you in his lap and read to you until your eyelids began to droop once more for some much-needed sleep

Being the good boy he is, he tucked you into his bed

BUT

Before he could walk back to his chair

“Satan, aren’t… aren’t you gonna lay with me?” You ask, tired, sweet voice ringing in his ears, “I-If you don’t mind that is. I mean it is your bed, after all, I didn’t mean t-”

He’s blushing up to his ears at your request, but nonetheless rolls onto the mattress next to you and you snuggle up close and fall asleep almost instantly

“As long as you’re here with me, you’ll be safe MC.”

Asmodeus

Why… Why was he up so early? What was that noise? Wait… Where were you?

He could’ve sworn he fell asleep with you in his arms

Sitting up groggily he looked around after rubbing the crust of sleep from his eyes

Something was moving and whimpering next to him, caught in a snare of fluffy blankets

The fearful cries of “Asmodeus! Oh, Asmo please don’t die! No, no, no, NO!!” broke the sweet demon’s heart

Your ragged breathing turned to a blood-curdling scream and you shot upright, but the blankets blocking your vision increased your tearful unease tenfold and you began struggling even harder against them

Taking action, Asmo tugged at the sheets, doing everything he could to help you

When your face emerged from the heap, you took a great gasp of air and immediately began sobbing your heart out

Asmo paused, knowing it unwise to approach someone who’d just escaped the clutches of a nightmare, but he couldn’t just sit there and stare at you!

Luckily, you chose that moment to look around

Your eyes met his amber ones in the semi-darkness and you tackled him, wrapping him in an impossibly tight hug

“A-ASMO!”

“Darling, wh-”

“Oh my god! I thought I killed you! I r-ruined your pretty face! You just sh-shriveled up a-and-”

“Sweetheart, hey~” He murmured, closing his arms around your back and cradling the back of your head in his hand, “Don’t cry anymore, Asmo’s here…”

His gentle comforting coos as he rocked from side to side brought your tears to a halt and soon you were able to look him in the face

Your glassy, frightened eyes had almost a look of reverence when you ever so slightly cupped your palm over his cheek, afraid he would crumble away at your caress once more

When he didn’t, you let out a shaky sigh of relief and visibly relaxed; shoving your face in his shoulder and wrapping your legs and arms around him so he couldn’t escape

It was quiet for a moment

Asmodeus settled his forearms around your waist and said

“Dearest, are you alright?”

“I… I don’t know.”  You fisted his shirt in your palms and looked at him, “That was a really vivid one.”

“Tell me what it was about!” He smiled sympathetically and stroked your cheek, “I have bad dreams sometimes too, MC. If you tell me yours I’ll tell you a few of mii-iiine!”

You couldn’t help but crack a small grin as his sweet tone and nod

“Yesterday Beel told me about the one time he touched Satan’s favorite plant. He’d seen Satan pet the stalk and petals before and he wanted to do it too. (Satan is a plant dad, fight me) But when he touched it, it shriveled up and died on the spot. I… I had a dream where I touched you and you shriveled up! I tried to help you, but every time I touched you, you screamed in pain! Then… Then you died in my arms and I woke up.”

:(

You clung to the demon as he moved, lost in thought. Settling back into the abundant pillows and tugging a sheet over your shoulders, he began to speak

“That sounds absolutely terrifying! What would you do without me?”

“Asmo…”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” He nuzzled your cheek and hugged you tighter, “Why don’t we find a way to help you forget about it? I have a couple of suggestions… if you’d like to hear them~”

Beelzebub

He’d only been gone for a minute… or four… maybe five…? Right?

Why were you writhing around like that? You sounded like a lost little puppy and… were those tears?

“MC? Are you awake?”

No reply, just your continued whines of discontent and a steady stream of tears soaking the pillow

He dropped his snacks on the floor and carefully knelt on the edge of the mattress, putting a gentle hand on your forehead

Lucifer used to do that when he was sick, long ago when they still lived in the celestial realm. Maybe it would help you? Somehow? Hopefully?

The strangled sob that fell from your lips as you forced his hand away broke his big heart in two

Hold on, your eyes were closed! Wait, you were having a bad dream!

Throwing all caution to the wind (and not knowing the consequences of waking someone in this state) and began shaking you rather roughly, scaring you awake and making you bonk heads when you sat up too quickly

Now you were crying for more reasons than one

Your head hurt, two big scary hands had your shoulders in a tight grip, there was a large figure looming over you in the dark, your dream was still raging and replaying in your head, and it was really dark and uncomfortably warm

Even in the dim light, Beel witnessed the look of pure terror that crossed your face

You thought his heart was broken? Well it just fucking shattered

You were scared? Of him?

“MC, it’s just me! Don’t be afraid!”

He’d woken you up, but apparently he’d only made things worse…

Beel is vewy sowwy :(

Those lovely amethyst eyes…

“B… Beeley?”

“MC? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I didn-”

You silence the ginger demon by throwing yourself into his arms in unparalleled relief, afraid you hadn’t really woken up and the shadow of your favorite brother was just MC’s Nightmare, Continued

Happy you’re in his arms, he squeezes back with all his might and burying his face in your shoulder

“I just had the worst nightmare Beel. I’m so happy you’re here…” You murmur, wiping your nose on your sleeve.

“Is your head ok?”

“M-hm.”

The pair of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, Beel offers you a tissue to dry your face, but you can’t seem to stop crying

“MC, maybe if you told me about it, you’d feel better!”

His sweet, honest smile made you melt

But the contents of your dream… You looked guiltily toward the bed on the other side of the room where you knew the Avatar of Sloth was sleeping peacefully

“You… You promise not to tell Belphie?”

“What do you mean?”

“W-Well I dreamt about that time… you know… when he killed me? He gave me a hug before bed like he always does a-and I love Belphie’s hugs but I can’t help but think about... that. I feel bad, it’s the same as holding a grudge! I’m sorry Beel.”

*insert pikachu face meme* = beel

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault you had the dream.”

“I know… I feel bad though. Did I wake you up?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Nuh-uh. I was already up grabbing snacks.” He pointed to the untidy pile a few feet away. “Maybe some TSL and food will bring your smile back. Don’t worry about your dream MC, the secret is safe with me. Plus, you’re only human and I guess being killed would be really scary for you. I didn’t protect you that time, but if anyone ever tries to hurt you again, I’ll be there before you can say Burgers from Akuzon, ok?”

The smile lifts your lips before he finishes his sentence warms his heart and puts a happy smile on his own as you give him a final squeeze and whisper

“Thanks a lot, Beeley.”

Belphegor

It is said the Avatar of Sloth could sleep through anything, even the loudest storm and the echoes of 4th of July from the human world

But when the precious human cuddled up in his arms every night begins to move around and/or whimper in fear, Belphegor is awake in minutes only to find you squirming away from him and begging to some invisible entity “Just… Just d-don’t hurt them! I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, please don’t hurt me I-”

The seventh born is squeezing your hand and whispering encouragement in your ear, telling you you’re safe and that it’s just a dream

Slowly opening your eyes you look around, still terrified and jumpy from your vision, but the warm hand intertwined with yours and the comforting arm around your back, plus the familiar scents of the twins’ room slowly bring you back to reality

“MC?”

“Belphie? I-Is that you?”

“Who else would it be, dummy.”

You ignore the half hearted insult and bury your face in his chest, allowing your heart to reach a normal pace and his natural scent and warmth to wash over you

“Tell me about it. Sounded pretty scary.”

“I’m sorry for waking you up Belphie, I know how you hate losing sleep…”

“Just… Be quiet and tell me your dream!”

“S-Sorry… Um, so I didn’t know you too well yet and an angel came and took the precious grimoire, but me and Beel were caught up in it and there was this whole thing with Purgatory Hall and Luke and-”

“Your stories can put me right to bed you know that? Anyway, so what happened? Did Lucifer tear the angel’s head off?” He looked rather hopeful…

“Of course not! Lucifer was gonna make me choose who I wanted to save, either Beel or Luke and I didn’t want either of them to get hurt so I said ‘both’ and Lucifer got really mad and scary and in my dream he ended up hurting Luke and Beel and he would’ve gotten me if you hadn’t woken me up.”

“You’re welcome.”

“... *sigh* Thanks for listening Belphie.”

With a sigh of his own, he pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder

“It was just a dream. You don’t have to be afraid, you know. I’m right here for you. Always.”

“Aww, than-”

“Forget I said that! Shut up and go to sleep!”

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Alex + Julie "You didn't deserve that... You deserve so much better."

you sent me this prompt a million years ago i'm sorry it took me so long to answer it. warning for friendship breakup angst. there's no carrie redemption arc in this fic but there IS alexjulie friendship.

with love on their throats | g | 1.7k | alex&julie, past julie&carrie

ao3 link in reblogs!

--

Julie doesn’t mean to ignore the boys all afternoon, but Carrie’s birthday was hard last year and so far, this year doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.

She has the foresight to turn her phone off, at least, this year. She can’t handle the social media posts from everyone else at their school. They’re probably in Carrie’s pool, in her kitchen, in her living room. Probably throwing around the throw cushions that Julie’s mom taught her and Carrie to sew covers for when they were ten. Maybe even smashing the glasses Julie used to drink Trevor’s homemade iced tea out of when she would come to visit before Carrie got home from sport in the evenings. The idea of seeing these familiar spaces still just… out there, existing, rather than stuck in the past along with her and Carrie’s friendship, makes Julie nauseous.

Plus, there’s the added bonus of not being able to text Carrie something reckless she might regret.

So her phone’s switched off. Her dad knows not to bother her today anyway, since he had a front-row seat to whole Carrie mess when it happened. He just shot her a sympathetic glance over breakfast and hasn’t spoken to her at all. Carlos is at a friend’s house, and wouldn’t bother her even if he were home.

It’s just the ghosts Julie is avoiding, locked her bedroom door, perched on her window seat with her headphones on, watching YouTube on her laptop.

Which means it scares her half to death when Alex waves a hand in front of her face.

She yanks her headphones off and curses, sharp and a little louder than she means to, and Alex jumps back like he’s been burned. “Julie! Uh, hi, hey. Sorry to scare you.”

“Why didn’t you knock?!” she demands, still breathless. “It’s you, you know better! Boundaries!”

At least Alex has the decency to look shamefaced. “I know, listen, it’s just -- we were worried about you! And we did knock, a lot, actually, but I don’t think you could hear us? So I said we should give you space but Luke and Reg started psyching each other out, and Luke’s never been able to handle space the same way since the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident--”

Which, okay, yeah, that’s fair enough. Julie still shudders at the memory of the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident.

“-- so then I got nominated because, well, Reg worried you might be getting changed or something, and that makes me the obvious choice, not that I wanted to be the obvious choice, just that -- okay, I’m doing a bad job, what I mean is --”

Finally, she decides to put him out of his misery. “Alex, stop. It’s fine.”

Relieved, he lets out a breath and leans on his knees, looking up at her with pretty, apologetic eyes. “Still. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to frighten you, we just… got worried. And wanted to see if you were okay. You’ve been in here all day.”

Julie nods and looks back at her laptop, where the YouTube video is still playing, and pauses it.

She hasn't looked back over at Alex when he says, cautious, "Are you okay?"

When she replies, “Yeah,” it isn’t because she wants to lie to him, necessarily. It’s more because she doesn’t know how to untangle her feelings enough to lay them out in front of him. More because it’s hard to explain why she still misses someone who she knows hurt her, who she knows should have known better.

It’s hard to explain why she feels guilt, and grief, over something she chose to let go.

The window seat dips when he sits down next to her, fingers twisted together in his lap, shoulders rolled forward. He’s offering her the tiniest, encouraging smile in the form of a little quirk at the corner of his mouth. Julie loves him so much that it softens the heartache, just for a moment.

But then it returns. Just as strong. Just as unreasonable. Just as painful.

“It’s Carrie’s birthday,” she tells him, without even knowing why she says it.

“Oh,” he replies, which seems fair. She doesn’t know what she’d say in his position. He chews his lip, a crease forming in his brow. “You guys used to be friends, right?”

God, can she talk about this out loud? It’s easier to joke with Flynn, to make fun of the situation, because Flynn saw it all play out, held Julie when she cried, stopped being friends with Carrie in solidarity. Explaining the situation from start to finish, to someone new, just feels impossible.

So instead she says, “Do you ever miss someone you know you can’t have back? Or not that you can’t. But you know you shouldn’t. You know that you can’t get them back, or you’d have to give up too much for it and it wouldn’t be worth it.”

Because sure, if Julie was really committed, she’s sure she could grovel her way back into Carrie’s inner circle. But as much as she misses her, she’s not prepared to do it.

Alex nods, understanding. “Yeah,” he says plainly. “Yeah, I do. Tons of people.”

Julie’s surprised, but she supposes she shouldn’t be. The boys talk about Alex’s family the way Julie’s mom used to talk about ghosts -- never directly, otherwise they’d hear her and be summoned -- and after the whole thing with Trevor, well. It makes sense.

“Can I get it to stop?” Julie asks. “I had to turn off my phone before I did something stupid like text her. What would I even say? Why would I want to say anything?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. He leans over so their shoulders bump together, and she leans her head on him. “It’s okay to miss her, you know. You guys had good things in your friendship -- I mean, I guess, right? That’s why you miss it?”

Julie nods, closing her eyes. There are so many good memories she doesn’t even know where to start. Running in the park. Sitting at the piano together. Fashion shows for their dads and Julie’s mom in the living room of the Wilsons’ huge house. Sleepovers with Flynn full of bickering and giggling and pillow fights. Birthday parties, their whole lives.

“But that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a good reason for stepping away,” Alex says.

That’s true, too. Julie’s pretty sure they didn’t have that good stuff for a while before their friendship ended, in reality. Carrie was becoming… snappish. Self-absorbed. All she wanted to do was boss the other girls in dance class around, and she didn’t ask to hear Julie’s songs anymore. Julie knew that being a good friend meant weathering the good with the bad, but she gave Carrie what felt like a million chances, and she wasn’t getting anything back. When she’d tried to bring it up to Carrie, things had… exploded.

She explains as much to Alex, in fits and spurts, and finishes with, “She just… blew up at me, she told me she’d been sick of me for ages and asked why I hadn’t noticed. Like I was just supposed to realise that we weren’t friends anymore without her telling me.” Sucking in a shaky breath, she manages, “And then my mom…”

“Oh, Julie,” Alex murmurs softly into her hair. She’s trying not to cry, she really is, but it feels all bubbly at the surface of her chest, and the way he puts an arm around her and squeezes tight shows that he can tell.

“I know it’s silly,” she chokes, “but it feels like we broke up, or something, even though we were just friends. It hurts so much just thinking about her.”

“It’s not silly,” he assures her, and wraps his other arm around her, too, so he’s hugging her close to him with her head against his chest. “There’s nothing less important about friends, and a friendship ending can really suck. Especially how she did it.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, and doesn’t draw attention to the few tears making their way down her cheeks. They sit like that for a moment, then Alex says quietly, “You’re a wonderful friend. You didn’t deserve that. You deserve so much better.”

Sniffling, Julie rubs her sleeve across her eyes, wiping away the tears. The thought dawns on her like the sunrise after a long, sleepless night. “I have so much better,” she realises out loud. “I have Flynn. And Dad and Carlos. And you and Luke and Reggie.”

“We are pretty fantastic,” Alex agrees, faux-smug, but his eyes are still cautious, and affectionate. “But it’s okay to be upset anyway.”

“I know,” she says. And she does. “But I think I’m almost done being upset. For now, at least. Maybe we could run through a few songs?”

“I’m sure the boys would love that,” Alex tells her, smiling, and he goes to stand up but she holds on tighter, so he won’t leave the hug.

He just feels so steady, and comforting, and she’ll never really get over being able to actually hold them. “Can we just. Stay here for a moment, first?”

Easing himself back down, Alex grins and pulls her closer, tucking her head under his chin. “Of course,” Alex says. “We can take as long as you need. Just us, or the others, too?”

She pauses. “The others, too.”

Alex closes his eyes, and Julie knows he’s reaching out to the others, through their one leftover remnant of their time in the afterlife, tugging at their leads until they come to find him. A moment later, Reggie and Luke both pop into presence in the middle of her room, puppy-eyed with worry and hope.

“Julie?” asks Reggie quietly, fiddling with his fingers.

“You good?” Luke asks, on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah,” she tells them. “Just needed a hug.”

Within moments, they’re all around her and Alex, Reggie’s arm around her waist, Luke’s leg somehow, inexplicably, over her lap. Alex makes an insulted noise, but he’s so relaxed, Julie knows he must not mean it. When she presses her ear to his collarbone, Julie can hear his heartbeat, solid and alive, miraculous. Her friend’s heartbeat. Her friends, all around her.

Things are still bittersweet, and it’s still Carrie’s birthday, but Julie is still surrounded by love, enveloped in it, living in it. She can be sad for what’s gone, and be grateful for what she has, at the same time.

[lxstfulbeans]

JUST CURIOUS OR NOOOOT....if you’re open or not, that’s cool~....

*slides a hundred your way*

I must know, what would it be like for Levi, Erwin, and lastly HANGE *clears throat* to be with a Black S/O, but here’s the catch. They’re the only black person behind the wall..well atleast what’s his name comes around..

Also, Drink plenty of water, stay hydrated, sleep well, relax, breathe, happy Valentine’s Day ❤️

Aight I gotchu babes, lemme get that hunnid up outcha 😏. And thank you so much 🥺 same to you!!

I feel like I gave more to Erwin and Hange than Levi, but I love these three equally 😭✋🏽. But, hope you enjoy this!

Headcanons: what it’s like with the only black s/o behind the walls.

Levi Ackerman:

When he first met you, he’s like “what in the fuck-“

He never meant it in bad way, oh no ma’am. It’s just that NO ONE has ever seen anyone like you before, let alone thought there were people of a different race.

But knowing Levi, and seeing his resting bitch face.. how could you ever know 💀.

My guy literally lived in the UNDERGROUND, on some “City of Ember” type shit, and has never seen someone like you before.

When you decided to join the Survery Corps. then eventually choosing the Scouts after being top of your class. He took it as an opportunity to observe you (well, him and like twenty, thirty other people 💀), whenever y’all sat and talked about expedition plans with Hange and the Commander, he enjoyed listening to you speak your mind and blast your opinions.

And don’t get me started on how strong and open-minded you are.

Eventually, he’ll start catching feelings. He’ll talk to you more, occasionally praise you for a job well done more than he’s done ANYONE else. He’ll even fucking compliment you and pick up on little things you’ve done.

Of course, when the other brats get outta hand when it comes to awful flirting and tryna see what that thang do. He shuts that shit down before it can even start.

“Oi. Get the fuck outta here before I use you as live bait for the Titans.”

Best believe they skedaddled.

He asks if you’re okay, and to tell him that if anyone else makes you uncomfortable like that again so he could properly whoop they ass.

Y’all get to talking and.. somehow talk most of the day away.

When he heard you laugh, he was struck. His heart pounding, though he couldn’t help but feel a smile tug at his lips.

Then, he asks you to be his. Which you accept with pride.

He’s always there to help you with wash days if you need it. He loves helping you, even if he doesn’t really show it.

Oh, and that discrimination shit? Y’all can cut that shit out right now cuz Levi don’t play.

Teamwork makes the dream work when it comes to cleaning. He’s impressed at how much better you are at it than he others.

Oh and your COOKING babyyy

He be stingy with it for sure. He was big mad when everybody else wanted some, at least you saved some pie for him.

And y’all are partners in fucking crime. Y’all be bodying Titans left and right bruh. Don’t nobody want the smoke.

Erwin Smith:

Oh my lawd, why is he so fine and RESPECTFUL 😔✊🏽.

Okay, okay this ain’t about me rn heheh.

Honestly, he’ll be flabbergasted to be in your presence. He’s never seen someone of a different race before, he wondered were there more of you on the outside?

When he saw you the first time on the return from another expedition outside the walls. His eyes met you and he was just.. amazed. He was sure that he wasn’t seeing things but, he had to see you again.

When he couldn’t find you, he had to come to the conclusion that you were a hallucination. I mean, he was exhausted, sleep deprived, and hungry.

But, eventually he found you by yourself at the bridge. He was amazed at how the morning sun made you glow, reflecting off of your brown skin.

When you caught him staring, he choked on his words as he rambled with apologies. This made you smile, inviting him to sit and enjoy the morning with you.

Y’all started talking and you just.. clicked. When he heard your laugh for the first time, he had it bad.

He tried visiting you as much as he could, even if it was only a simple “hello, how are you?” or the slightest of small talk.

When the Walls were invaded, you were helpless. No one bothered to help you, either saving their own asses or being eaten alive. You couldn’t count the times where you were so close to meeting death. You refused to become a victim and have fear control you.

When you joined the Scouts, he was shocked to you standing here before him. Your fist over your heart as you announce yourself. He never thought you would be here about to risk your life everyday.

But, he saw that fire in your eyes and smiled.

He couldn’t guarantee your safety but would do everything in his power to make sure nothing happens to you.

He’s a busy man. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t sit and talk with you all of the time. If you were lucky, he’d send a smile or even a wink your way.

Though, he’s often caught you by yourself again, watching the sunset or gazing into the night sky. The way you skin would glow made him look back on old times.

He sits with you, talking the night away and making you smile again.

Overtime, you eventually get closer. When you originally closed yourself of because of the events of “That Day”, but opened up more and more when you both were together.

Whenever somebody tries to snitch on you to him, you’re literally not phased by this shit.

“Tell him then, I don’t give no fuck! Matter of fact, I’ll tell him for you!”

He honestly adores how you don’t take shit from anybody, but he lets you get away with a little bit of things. He won’t reprimand you but will give you a slap on the wrist if you went too far with something.

Whenever he says something unintentionally funny, you just crack up laughing. Like, you are wheezing so silently and rolling on the floor in tears. He couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head at how silly you were.

He adored everything about you. Your laugh, how your skin glows in the light, your captivating smile, and how you weren’t playing games with nobody.

This time, he realizes his growing feelings for you.

Eventually, he confesses his feelings to you. Like this man is poetic as hell, he’s listing off everything he loves about you, even the little things made his heart soar. You were honestly shocked that your Commander felt this way about you.. but you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t feel the same.

After y’all get boo’d up, you’re basically a power couple.

Somebody got one time to talk shit about you, on god he is on them like white on rice.

“If you say one more word about them, I will personally make sure that on the next expedition, I will leave you behind...”

Ah, don’t you just love it when it he gets serious and protective?

And both y’all side-eye the fuck outta people when they don’t rub you the right way.

Wash days? He’s all for it. Once he sees your arms drooping, clearly worn out from washing your hair, he’ll happily roll up his sleeves and get up in there.

Bruh, have you seen his hands?? You KNOW his massages are bomb af, like you damn near fall asleep everytime he massages and scratches your scalp.

Don’t get him started on your cooking, he’d do anything for it. He gets so happy when you save extra plates for him to eat later.

When push comes to shove and everyone’s losing their shit, you have to be strong. Erwin’s always motivated you and inspired you, if humanity had any chance to survive, you had to show it.

“Y’all need to get yo shit together PERIODT! It’s okay to be scared, but we won’t make it out of this if you keep actin’ like this! Y’all signed up to protect humanity right?! Well, show these Titans who they fuckin’ with!”

After hearing that.. he wanted to marry you.

(bonus: let’s say that he’s alive 💀 cuz I literally cried when he got clapped like how-)

When you were finally able to go outside the walls without any fear of the Titans, you felt free.

When you came across the ocean, he couldn’t take his eye off of how amazed you looked at the clear blue waters, the sun making it shine towards its horizon.

“It’s everything Cadet Arlelt said, right? Where there’s an ocean.. there’s other lands, eventually other enemies.”

“I know. We made it this far, it’s only right that we keep goin’.”

Hange Zoë:

Hange can GET IT MM- 🤧 they are literally so fine.

oh, and it’s kinda canon that they’re non-binary so ��.

This’ll be after you first join the Scouts and baby they was on you like white on rice INSTANTLY.

They’ve never seen anyone like you before. It was almost forbidden to learn or talk about anything beyond the walls, were there more of you?? Where did you come from?

Though, they’re outta pocket questions and lack of knowledge of something called, “personal space” kinda made you nervous so they brought down a couple notches.

When they got to know you more, they were just ecstatic to see you.

When Hange caught you alone, basking in the warm embrace of the sun, they couldn’t take the throbbing of their heart as your dark skin was shining.

When you eventually start dating, they had no problem putting folks in their place when they try you.

“Alright, I see that you have quite a lot to say about my s/o! I bet you won’t be spouting a word when you come face to face with Titan. I’ll happily let you see them up close..”

They’d absolutely kill for your cooking. Deadass. If they’re not the first and last one to get a plate, they’ll be big mad for a hot minute.

I’m sure they observe you a lot, especially when it comes to your routines and how you try your best not to smell like a hunnid cans of bounce dat ass 💀. So when wash day comes and you’re kinda tired after training, they’ll happily wash your hair for you.

They’ll praise you for all the hard work you’ve done, giving you little forehead kisses, massaging and giving light scratches to your scalp.

OOH WEE- you are in absolute heaven with them.

Both of y’all share that chaotic energy, bugging the hell outta Levi when you get the chance.

When it comes to fighting Titans, y’all don’t play! When it’s time to put the moves on ‘em you do it!

- - END SCENE - -

[sylvies-chen]

Can you do 64 or 67 for brettsey please?

Prompt 64 can be found here!!

67. “If you don’t want to talk about it then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.”

Matt should have seen this coming.

His mom's not exactly young. He doesn't know where she's been or how she's been doing these past few years, frankly. He's had no record of whether she's been staying healthy-- through no fault of his own, seeing as how his mom's always been less than reliable since getting out of prison. Hell, even before getting arrested she'd been letting him and Christie down in smaller ways.

So when he gets the call that Nancy Casey has passed away from a heart attack at the ripe age of 68, he thinks it's just one more way in which his mother has let him down; one more member of the Casey family carrying their overwhelming amount of secrets to the grave.

He should feel sad, he knows that, but all he feels is numbness and a slight annoyance at having to deal with the funeral and all her belongings.

Her belongings aren't actually all that numerous, he realizes soon enough, which he assumes is a perk of being so flakey. All he gets is a box of things. He doesn't know what things, exactly. He'd gone to her place, shoved everything he could find into a cardboard box without paying attention to any of it, and left before he had the change to boil over with rage at all the things she'd kept from him and Christie-- the apartment included.

He should book time off or something. Or maybe visit her grave. He hasn't been there since the funeral a week ago (at which he, Sylvie, and Christie had pretty much been the sole attendants), maybe it'd do him some good in theory. But right now, every normal way of grieving flies out the door for him. He feels himself reverting back to the Casey family tradition: internalizing your feelings and keeping them secret until the day you die. Literally. It's not fun, not pleasant, and certainly not healthy. But in some weird way, it feels like his own way of honouring his mother, so he doesn't fight it. He should, but he doesn't.

Until Sylvie notices, and manages to tear down his walls in one fowl, beautifully agonizing swoop.

She picks up on it pretty quickly. He drifts off a lot during shift, he looks even more serious than usual, and he refuses to talk about it all that much whenever she asks how he's feeling-- which isn't for lack of trying, but how the hell can he put every complex little emotion he's feeling into words? Doing that will take time.

She's over to the loft one night, petting gently at his hair with her legs sprawled across his lap as they mindlessly watch TV, when she notices the box of his mom's things collecting dust by the by the basketball machine. Stella and Severide are out and Sylvie knows he's not paying attention to what's on anyway, so she turns the TV off. It manages to get his attention and he looks to her, confused.

Her attention isn't on him though, only on the box. Its flaps are taped shut at the top, his mom's name in black sharpie fading slowly. "You still haven't opened the box of your mom’s stuff?"

"No," he admits.

“Matt…” she sighs, taking her legs off his lap to sit upright on the couch. “You’ve been retreating into yourself ever since your mom passed away. Please don’t shut me out. I’m here, you know that, right?”

“I do. But Sylvie, I’m fine,” he insists. “My mom knew exactly what she wanted in life once she got out of prison and I wasn’t exaclty a part of that. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her, I probably don’t know half of what’s in that box anyway. She hid her new life from me and Christie. She’s just next in a long line of people in my family who’ve taken their secrets to the grave, that’s all.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.”

Her tone is sympathetic but has a slight edge to it. She wants him to open up, he knows that. That’s, along with the surprising frustration in her eye, is enough to make Matt want to. So he tries.

“I want to,” he assures her. “But there’s nothing to say. She was gone before, and she’s gone now. It’s just more permanent now.”

“But don’t you think opening that box will give you some— I don’t know… closure?”

“I know it probably will, but I've been busy with contracting work and the firehouse has been busy and... I don't know, it just slipped my mind."

She gives him a look as if to say she doesn't buy it for a second, only it turns quickly into a look of sympathy. Because it always does. Sylvie, through thick and thin, good and bad, just always understands him. That goes both ways, which makes it even better, but it also means he knows exactly what she's thinking right now.

"What's keeping you from doing it now then?"

"Now?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his arm stretching out against the back edge of the couch and rubbing at her far shoulder. "Well for one, I'm having a relaxing night with you, and I'd rather not ruin that with memories of my less than reliable mother. And second, I just... I'm...."

Matt finds himself choking on his words, unable to admit to himself the one word he's looking for. He doesn’t know where this sudden seriousness comes from, this abrupt inability to keep things in. It’s like an old habit, and normally those die hard. Except Sylvie’s lifting a gentle hand to caress his face, is giving him that warm and comforting look, and he knows exactly why it’s hard.

It’s hard because it’s her. It’s Sylvie, and trying to internalize things around her at this point is pointless— even if he wanted to. And he doesn’t want to. He’s stripped of all his walls when he’s around her and honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Scared?” She finishes his sentence for him, giving him an expectant look.

He nods, because yes. Matt Casey, a firefighter who’s faced blazing fires and near-death experiences, is scared of opening a tiny little box. It takes a lot for him to admit that but he’s with her, which makes it ten times easier. “Yeah,” he confirms. “I know it sounds silly, but I can’t bring myself to look at all the things from her life that she left me and Christie out of. I’m scared I’ll look in there and realize just how much of a stranger she was to me— and of how much I miss her anyway.”

Sylvie exhales quietly, eyeing him achingly for a moment while she gnaws at her lip the way she only does when she’s thinking hard. Then, she gives his knee a comforting squeeze before standing up. He shifts on the couch, elbows moving to his knees as he scrunches his brow in a pensive and painful train of thought of his own. He thinks Sylvie is just getting a glass of water or a tissue or something else, honestly. But when he looks up from his brooding, he sees her over by the basketball machine, picking up the box and bringing it over.

“Here,” she says, placing it on the table in front of them and sitting back down in her spot next to him. Their legs press together, leaving no space between them on the couch.

“No,” he shakes his head as he responds. “No, I can’t do it.”

“You can,” Sylvie assures him. “We can do it. Together. You don’t have to go through any of this alone, Matt. So if you have to sit here for a minute before opening it, or ten minutes, or an hour even, then you can do that. I’ll be here the entire time.”

Her eyes twinkle kindly at him and Matt swears, in that moment, that he’s the luckiest man alive. Something about everything she just told him strikes him harder than usual, acting as a sharp and wonderful reminder that they’re meant for each other.

“I am so in love with you,” he utters softly.

Sylvie lets out a quiet giggle, moving to hold his hand and lace their fingers together. “I love you too.”

She presses a tender kiss to his cheek as he sucks in a sharp breath, his attention now turning to the box in front of them. The box looks back at him, almost as if challenging him. Only now, miraculously, it seems more manageable to him. It’s still scary, still carries a lot of emotional weight for Matt. But he feels Sylvie’s hand in his and it gives him the strength to do this.

He lets go of Sylvie’s hand for a moment to tear the flaps of the box open. His hand finds hers again as soon as its done, relying on her for more strength as he moves to peer inside the box.

His heart stops.

With his spare hand, he pulls out the first thing in the box, at the very top— the very thing that made his heart stop. Nothing else in the box matters now, he thinks. Because sitting there, in the palm of his hand, is a picture of him, Christie, and his mom. Nancy Casey sits in the center of the picture, with Matt and Christie at her sides. He remembers the day well; it was his fourteenth birthday, after all. There’s a cake in front of them in the picture to prove it. Matt doesn’t ever remember looking and feeling so young. Admittedly, he doesn’t remember being that happy around his family either. Normally, birthdays were sort of a mess for him, a constant struggle of battling with his father over how they should celebrate it that alwaus left Matt grumpy and hurt. But in the picture, his mom’s hand is tickling his side, as well as Christie’s, and the moment captures the exact moment that he and Christie reflexively lean into her chest from the laughter. His mom’s smile is bright and wide— something he rarely saw around his household.

They were happy once. They were a family, no matter how messed up everything got between them. Maybe Nancy Casey wasn’t such a stranger to him after all. That fact alone sends those million complicated little emotions swirling around in his chest.

Only this time, he doesn’t bury them. This time, they all come pouring out at once and the dam breaks. He doesn’t know when the tears started, but they flow now with a painful ease.

Sylvie lets go of his hand and pulls him in, holding onto him tight and close as his head rests on her chest. He feels tears of her own drip on the back of his head as she strokes his hair gently. He so rarely cries like this and yet now that he’s started— now that he has someone like Sylvie who lets him be vulnerable— he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop.

Only she tightens his grip on him, whispers soothing hushes and gentle reassurances that everything will be okay, and he knows that he’ll stop soon enough.

[arcadejohn127-9]

How would the demon brothers [+ undatebles if you can no biggie tho if not] be with an MC who is plus sized and is super insecure about it? Like they try to get skinnier but can't and they get upset about it or get teased by other demons for being bigger. Side note: your writings are INCREDIBLE. Just like you 🤗💜🎆⭐

Thank you for the request and the compliment! You're too kind!

Oof weight lose and being bullied for my size is something I know abit too well, I always feel sad when I see plus sized people Insecure about their weight

I'm all for people wanting to lose weight to be healthy or just wanting change but when it stems from self hated and an unhealthy mindset - I just can't stand it

Demon brother's with a plus sized MC who's insecure

Warning: angst with fluff

Lucifer:

He isn't a man who's to shy away from being rude and blunt to people

He wouldn't date someone for pity or lie

When he learned you were trying to loose weight

He and the other brothers all treated it how Asmo's diets go, he tries and fails and everyone makes no real effort to not tempt him with food

When he found you crying in your bedroom however

"What's the matter? You're crying, what has upset you?"

"You." Was all you said, trying to calm yourself

He, of course, wanted to know what he did

He kept pestering you until you finally snapped at him

"You're treating my wants like it's a joke! I want to lose weight and none of you are being supportive of it! Why can't you just let me do something for myself?!"

He was taken back

He sat beside you, taking your hand in his

"Why do you want to lose weight? This plan has come rather unexpectedly."

"Because I'm too big! Everyone thinks so! No matter what I do all nothing works! Don't you think I'm ugly?"

"Since when did being big equate to being ugly? Are your height makes you ugly?"

"my height...? What does that-"

"Weight isn't something we can always change like our height, some people just can't change their physical appearance, it can only happen naturally and even then it may be a small amount gained or lost."

"I think I get what you mean."

"I hate admiting this but- I'm not good at this kind of thing but I think you look wonderful, if you really wish to go on a diet I'll support you but it needs to come from a healthy and non destructive mindset."

He poked. your forehead before kissing your hand

Mammon:

"Mammon? Don't you get embarassed when you're out with me."

"You are pretty embarassing sometimes."

He wasn't pay too much attention, not catching up on your tone

"Oh.....I see....maybe I shouldn't come out with you tonight."

You already didn't want to go out, the outfit Mammon got you - whilst it looked expensive - was tight on you

"HUH?! now what's this all about? You trying to quit on the great mammon?!"

"Well- I'm much bigger than the demons you hang around with, aren't you ashamed? They're way more attractive than-"

He rushed to your side, gripping your arms

"Don't even finish that sentence, ya hear?! Who told you - you didn't look fucking fantastic?! No one talks to my baby like that!"

"But it's true-"

"I swear on Goldie that isn't true! You are the most stunning jewel I've seen, I'm so lucky to be with someone that looks like you! You're personality is already top notch - your body is like a shiny bonus I don't think I deserve!"

He pulled you into a hug, holding you like you were the most valuable thing to him

"You're gorgeous, just tell me who's been bullying you and I'll make sure they know their place, I never want you to feel like that."

Levithan:

Levi was showing off this cast of anime style chatacters from the game he was playing

All of them were so thin and muscular

Everyone had the perfect curve and ideal bodies

"We should cosplay these characters! Don't worry, you don't need to know everything about them - I think you'd really pull off this one, you two already have the same personality."

You looked down at yourself and then back at the Character

You frowned, clutching your stomach

"Really....? But they're so- well look at me!"

He looked at you, raising a brow as he tried to find what you were getting at

"They're a warrior who saved the universe with a knife, it's not supposed to be realistic-"

"I'm talking about my shape, levithan! I'm fat! I'm disgusting! They're built like a god!"

"YOU'RE built like a god! There's plenty of Gods from your worlds stories that are shaped like you! What's the issue?"

"you didn't even deny I was disgusting, those demons were right-"

"What demons?! Are you seriously letting some normies tell you you're gross? What do they know? I'm the luckiest demon alive to be with you and those demons can choke on salt water - you point them out and I'll get my army on them!"

"you really think that? You wouldn't like more if I looked more like your smile chatacters?"

"Media is based of toxic media where they focus on only one type of beauty standard, it's a problem within the game world that they don't add plus sized chatacters."

"i- yeah I guess so....I didn't expect you to really care about that."

"of course I care!"

You both sat in silence, you were processing his words and leaned against his shoulder

"Do you still want to cosplay together?"

You paused before nodding

You both went through the game he's playing, whenever the overly vain chatacter came out levithan would argue with them

Claiming you to be the most gorgeous being in the world not them

Satan:

"I heard some rumours today, have demons been bothering you about your weight?"

You froze as Satan closed his book, shifting in the seat

You stepped back, avoiding eye contact, regretting coming to your room instead of helping mammon with some silly plan

"No...there's been no issue."

"Oh? Then why is there laxatives and diet guides in your school bag? You know I don't like it when you lie to me especially if it means you could be putting your body at risk."

You noticed your bag beside his feet

You immediately grew frustrated as you knew you were being called out

"Why did you go through my bag?! That's my own bussiness-"

"you said I could get my textbooks back, I found them in your bag - I'm sorry I went through your stuff but this isn't fine! You're going to force your body to push itself unnaturally."

"I just- i just want to get thinner, no matter how many times I try it doesn't work! I'm tired of seeing myself in the mirror and people telling me that you don't actually love me-"

"Some people just don't have it easy when it comes to weight lose, going on a diet isn't the best - I can go on cooking duty more often and make sure you have healthier meals."

He was at your side now, stroking your face

"Do you love me....? Truely?"

"of course I do, I've never loved anyone as much as I love you - you make me feel things I never thought i would, your size is the last of my concerns, I'm just scared you're going to hurt yourself."

You nodded, tearing up as you let him hold you closer

You tried to apologize but he silenced you, telling you that your emotions are valid

Asmodeus:

"Darling~! Let's take a bath together, I just got a new bath bomb and some soaps!"

He shook the mini basket filled with bath product's

"really...? Are you sure you want to do that, I'm not sure, I feel really bloated today-"

You were desperate to avoid getting naked Infront of him

Every once and a while he would ask to take a bath together, he respects your discomfort but wants to keep the offer open

"Oh, that's no issue~ we can have some tea Barbatos gave me, it's great for bloating!"

"why do you wanna see me naked so much? I'm not anything to see - wouldn't you be uncomfortable?"

"Uncomfortable? Why would I feel that?"

"In not the smallest person around-"

"Means you got more to love! I love your body!"

"But you're so gorgeous and slender, why would you ever love my body?"

He couldn't understand your feelings; confused on how you could see yourself in a negative light

"because I love you more than myself, I'm still the most special demon around but you're just something else, something I could never stop adoring!"

Beezlebub:

"Do you want to go eat with me? hell's kitchen is having a party."

Beel peered into your room, showing the hell's kitchen site

"I'm not sure about that, I've been trying to cut down on my eating."

"what? Why? Are you sick?"

He immediately got concerned, shuffling over to you

He placed the back of his hand on your forehead

"No- I'm not sick, I just think I should loose some weight."

"oh....then you can still go eat with me, I'll just eat more of your portions."

"you don't have any issue with me losing weight?"

Your insecurities started to chew at you

You weren't really sure what you wanted; you wanted him to be cruel and straight forward about hating your body

It would make your feelings feel more grounded

But you couldn't bare it if he didn't like your body

"It's your choice - should I be concerned?"

"no way! It would be for the best anyway, right? Atleast then I'll look better-"

"What does your weight have you to do with your looks? I think you look fine."

"you don't think I'm too big? Wouldn't you prefer someone more petite? I know you like small things-"

"I like you, I don't see any issue with your body."

It did feel a little ridiculous to think the avatar of gluttony would be bothered by your size but you still couldn't help but feel worried

He suddenly picked you up, kissing your cheek

"I can hold you in my arms just fine, your size will never stop me from liking you, I think you're beautiful."

Belphegor:

He was laying on your thigh's, watching a video comp of people falling over and getting hurt

"Should I loose weight?"

His phone was suddenly dropped on his stomach, staring up at with you surprise

"Why do you ask? Besides, it's not my decision to make - it's your body."

"yeah but wouldn't you prefer it if I was, ya know, thinner?"

He looked at you as if you just said something stupid

Adjusting his position snuggled against your thigh's

"Why would I prefer that? You wouldn't be as comfy."

"is that all you care about? If I'm comfy? Would you be upset if I did lose weight?"

"No, because I love cuddling you so I don't care about your size but I like you the way you are."

"it can't be that simple, there's no way you just like me when I look like this."

"I'm not sure why you're thinking of it like it's complicated maths, I like you- no I love you and very happy with the way you are."

You wanted to argue, trying to find a way to figure out how he's wrong

But you couldn't

"You're my favourite person in this house - don't tell Beel - I wouldn't trade you for the world."

[omgrachwrites]

The Princess and The Duke - Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: As the Princess of Spain, you were always supposed to marry King James of England to make an alliance between Spain and England. When he marries a woman at his court for love, you are married off to his best friend, Sirius Black the Duke of Bedford to keep the alliance. However, the court is riddled with secrets and a rebel in the North starts to rise against the Throne. Royal AU.

Warnings: lil bit of angst, fluff, fluff and more fluff!

Words: 2554

Disclaimer: This gif doesn’t belong to me!

A/N: I was going to make this chapter filled with so much more angst but I think that you guys deserved a break! Hope you guys enjoy this one and please let me know what you think, and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Twelve - A Knight’s Tale

The waiting was torture, though that first night had been the worst, you had fed your twins, Elena and Johnathan before putting them to bed. And, then you had crawled into your huge cold, empty bed with your heart hurting as your tears soaked your silken pillows. You couldn’t lose him, you couldn’t lose Sirius. He was the love of your life and you had never dared to hope that you would meet someone like him or be so deeply in love.

Sirius was a hero – James was going to knight him if he ever woke up – and it would be cruel indeed if God decided to take him away from you. It seemed like God showed you mercy, because the following day, Sophia woke you to tell you that Sirius was still hanging on, he was still alive. He wasn’t doing any better but thankfully his condition hadn’t got any worse. For two weeks, you spent most of the morning with him, Lily would have granted you more time but you knew that Sirius wouldn’t want you to give up your duties for him. Working kept your mind off things.

Every time you went to see him, you brought the twins with you and you tried to make the small dark room brighter with the fresh flowers that you placed on the windowsill every couple of days. Through your tears you smiled down at the handsome man that was the subject of all your deepest dreams and fantasies. Even when he was so close to death he was still so devastatingly beautiful, like a fallen angel or a hero from those silly romance novels that you liked to read.

Gently, you pushed his raven black hair from his forehead, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead. His skin was as cold as ice but you knew that the doctor did his best to keep Sirius warm.

“I have to go, my love, I can’t shirk my duties,” you let out a little watery laugh as you swallowed down the lump in your throat, “I love you so much and I’m living for the day when you’ll wake, I would do anything Sirius, please just come back to us,” you pressed your warm lips to his cold ones, they were almost blue, “I’ll be back tomorrow, darling, though it’ll be a bit later on, I’m going to help Sophia pack for France,” you stroked your fingers against his cheek as you stood up.

The doctor smiled at you but you could see the blatant sympathy in his eyes as you nestled Elena and Johnathan in your arms, “thank you so much for looking after him, I appreciate it with all my heart,” you paused as a tear slid down your cheek, “if he wakes do you think all will be well?”

“You don’t have to thank me, Duchess,” the kindly older man bowed his head as he pushed his spectacles up his nose, “I cannot be sure, there may be some temporary memory loss but he’s defied all the odds so far. Your husband is a fighter, My Lady.”

You laughed a little as you nodded in agreement, “he is indeed a fighter, he’s the strongest man that I know,” it was for that reason that you were hopeful that he’d wake up. You gave him one last loving, wistful look before looking back at the doctor, “good day to you, doctor.”

“Good day, Lady Y/N,” he bowed his head as you departed from the room and sucked in a deep breath.

Remus was outside, leaning against the wall, he stood up straight when he saw you, a smile lighting up his handsome scarred face as he glanced from you to the twins, “are you waiting to go in and see Sirius?”

Remus nodded as he ran a hand through his hair, his hazel eyes growing worried, “how is he?”

You shrugged as sadness shrouded your heart, “he’s no better but he’s no worse either,” you tried to muster a brave smile.

Remus bit his lip as he looked down at his feet, “is it true that Sophia is going to French court?” even though he was getting married this coming summer, you knew that he still loved Sophia.

You sighed sadly, they would have made a fantastic couple and you knew that they both lamented what they had lost, “maybe you should talk to her instead of me, Remus,” you softened the blow by pressing a kiss against his cheek. You offered him a soft smile before walking down the hallway.

The following day dawned with warm and sunny weather with a slight breeze. The weather was so fine that you had thrown open the doors that led to the balcony while you helped Sophia pack for France. It was a pleasant task as the chirping of birds and the sweet sound of laughing, playing children that travelled up from the grounds. You glanced at Sophia with a smile on your lips, stopping short when you saw that a shadow had fallen over her face as she unblinkingly stared at the contents of her luggage.

“Are you alright, Sophia?” you asked, placing your hand on her shoulder.

Sophia looked up at you as her face transformed with a pretty smile that reached her eyes, “I’m fine, this is exactly what I want, and I suppose that I’m just nervous.”

You smiled as you pulled your dear friend into a tight hug, “I’m going to miss you,” you would sorely miss her and you knew that she would take a piece of your heart with her. But, you also knew that she would be radiant at French court. Over Sophia’s shoulder, you saw Remus run into the room, panting and you pulled away from Sophia as you took in his delighted face.

“It’s Sirius,” he smiled and your heart felt very hopeful and heavy, “he’s awake and he’s asking for you.”

You gasped as you held a hand to your heart as the relief and happiness almost swept you off your feet. You felt giddy and lightheaded, you felt drunk. Tears sprang to your eyes, “I must get the twins,”

Sophia laughed and cupped your cheeks, “I’ll get them and follow you, go, Y/N!”

You didn’t need to be told twice as you hitched up your skirts and ran to Sirius as quickly as you could, your heart beating wildly in your chest. Sirius was sitting up in bed when you reached him, the colour hadn’t quite returned to his cheeks yet but he was still so beautiful.

A smile spread across his face as soon as he saw you, “Y/N!”

As gently as you could you threw your arms around him, not wanting to hurt him as you sobbed into his neck. Your heart burst with love as he tilted your face up so he could kiss you, his gentle thumbs wiping your tears away. You pulled back to look at your husband, “I’m so glad that you’re alive, I love you,” you clutched his linen shirt between your fingers, not wanting to let him go.

Sirius smiled as he kissed your forehead, “I love you too, my Princess, I always promised that I’d come back to you, the doctor thinks that I’ll make a full recovery, apparently I’ve defied all the odds,” he chuckled before biting his lip, “I’m so sorry that I put through so much anguish.”

You shook your head as you cupped his cheeks, pressing your forehead against his, “I’m just glad that you’re okay, it was torture without you. You’re a hero Sirius; you saved the King’s life.”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” his loving words made you giggle, already he was flirting with you, “I’ve missed that sweet sound,” he pressed a kiss to your lips and he smiled as he trailed his fingers down to your stomach, looking up at you with a frown when he realised that the swell of your stomach had reduced, “our child?” he whispered and you kissed him gently.

You turned to Sophia who was standing in the doorway, she grinned at you as you lifted the twins into your arms and thanked her, “our children came a month early, both completely healthy,” you laughed and turned back to Sirius, “meet Elena and Johnathan, I wanted to honour your squire, he was a hero,” you added.

“Johnathan would have liked that, he would have been bashful,” he smiled and gasped with joy as you placed the twins in his arms, “typical that we wait for one baby and we get two,” he laughed, his voice thick with tears as he held his children.

Your heart swelled with love as Sirius pressed tiny kisses on their little foreheads. Elena wrapped her whole tiny hand around one of his fingers as she gazed up at him with her father’s stormy grey eyes while Johnathan fussed a little. Sirius choked back a sob as he grinned down at his children, his face bright with love as he glanced up at you.

“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here for you, I’m so proud of you,” he tilted his head so he could press a deep lingering kiss to your lips and you threaded your fingers through his hair, “they’re so beautiful, just like their mother,” he murmured against your lips.

“And, just like their father,” you added, stroking over his beautiful face.

You and Sirius grinned at each other as you held your family in your arms. For once the little room didn’t seem so dark. It was as bright as heaven.

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

Sirius blew out a nervous breath as he looked at himself in the golden looking glass. Much had happened and yet, he hardly looked any different, apart from the long scar above his ribs and the haunted look that his eyes now held. He winced as he looked down at the pink welt on his skin, it was an ugly scar but late at night, Y/N would run her fingers and then her lips across it. She told him that it was proof of his heroic actions, he didn’t believe her but he lived for those moments.

Sirius could see his beautiful wife reflection in the golden mirror as she smiled and put the twins down for their nap. He was so blessed to have not just one, but two beautiful children. Y/N looked up and met his eyes in the mirror, he smiled at her as her lips parted slightly as her eyes raked over the bare top half of his body, and it was enough to make him blush.

With a sultry gaze, she looked at him beneath her thick lashes and she sauntered into the room, wrapping her arms around him from behind. Her nails ran over his skin lightly, enough to make him shiver beneath her warm touch, “my God, you look so beautiful like this,” she purred into his ear.

Her hands came up to rest on his shoulders as she kissed the back of his neck as she held eye contact with him in the mirror. Sirius blushed and bit his lip at her words, thankful that she still wanted him, “I could just eat you up,” she nipped at the lobe of his ear teasingly.

Sirius chuckled as he turned his head so he could capture Y/N’s lips with his own, smiling into the kiss when she ran her hands down to his stomach as she snaked her tongue into his mouth. When she pulled away, she kissed the tip of his nose, “what are you thinking about, my love?”

Sirius sighed and shrugged “just nervous I guess, I wish everybody didn’t have to make such a big thing over this,” he truly felt like he didn’t deserve this.

Y/N smiled at him as she cupped his cheeks, looking at him with so much love in her eyes, “you’re a true hero Sirius, let it be recognised properly,” she pressed a lingering kiss against his lips, “now, let’s get you dressed.”

She leaned down momentarily and pressed feather light kisses against his scar, running the tip of her tongue over the ruined skin. Tears sprang to his eyes as he cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip. She smiled as she leaned into his touch and gazed up at him with sparkling, adoring eyes.

“I love you so much.”

Y/N grinned as she stood up and buttoned his shirt, smoothing her hands over it, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

All too soon, it was ready for them to leave, Y/N smiled at him comfortingly as they walked down the hallway, nerves swarming around in Sirius’ stomach. Even from outside the Throne Room, Sirius could hear the buzz and the chatter of the court, he knew that James would make a spectacle out of this. When they entered, the whole court turned and stared at him, the men looked at Sirius in jealousy while the women looked at Y/N in the same way. Y/N smiled and kissed his lips before going to stand with Sophia who had postponed her trip to France to come to the ceremony. There were sweet smelling ceremonial candles burning in every corner.

Swallowing back his nerves, Sirius walked towards where James was standing, the King’s face was mostly stoic but Sirius could see the glimmer of a smile beneath his mask. With his eyes fixed on James, Sirius knelt on one knee and the King began to address the court.

“This man is a hero,” James started as he pointed at Sirius, pride in his voice, “this man saved my life, he climbed over enemy lines to pull me to safety and almost gave up his own life in the process. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here and our beloved England would be at war, he saved me and so many more people.”

Sirius took his eyes away from James and concentrated on the red velvet carpet in front of him, as James placed the flat of his sword on his shoulder.

“Do you, Sirius Black, the Duke of Bedford promise to serve your liege lord in valour and faith? Do you promise to protect the weak and defenceless, live by honour and glory and respect the honour of women?”

Sirius cleared his throat to stop his voice from shaking, “I, Sirius Black, the Duke of Bedford solemnly swear to do this.”

Sirius could hear the smile in James’ voice as he moved the sword from his left shoulder to his right, “then it is my great honour to dub thee, Sir Sirius, Knight of England and Wales. Arise Sir.”

When Sirius got to his feet, James pulled him into a hug as the court cheered and applauded. Sirius chuckled as his best friend clapped him on the shoulder, “congratulations.”

“Thank you,” he smiled at James and Lily before turning to face the court, his eyes searching. He grinned when he found his wife among the crowd; her face was bright with a smile and tears streamed down her cheeks.

He strode towards her and kissed her passionately, Y/N giggled into the kiss as the court whistled at the display, “My Lady,” he whispered against her lips.

“My Knight,” she grinned up at him.

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

@smiithys @elayneblack @amelie-black @siriuslyjanhvi @pregnant-piggy @lindatreb @mabelle-cherie @hxrgreeves @britishspidey @mads-bri @classicrocketqueen @sxtansqueen @hufflepuffzutara @missmulti @bruxa0007 @ourstarsailor @fific7​ @galwithbluethoughts​ @2410slb​ @sunles​ @krismeunicornbaobei​ @theincredibledeadlyviper​ @deathkat657​

[caitlesshea]

we run with the wolves in the shadows

“So how many times did you actually kill each other before you realized you couldn’t die?”

Joe looks up at the sound of Nile asking both he and Nicky a question. 

Nicky shrugs like he doesn’t remember but Joe knows he does, because how could he forget such a thing, but before he can answer, Nicky does. 

“Enough.” 

Joe nods his agreement and Nile looks like she’s about to argue with them but decides not to when Andy pokes her head into the living room.

“They were alive when I found them, so killing each other was a moot point.”

“Okay, but you dreamed of each other right?” Nile asks this question to Andy, who answers with more patience than Joe’s ever seen her have. 

Nicky nods towards their room and Joe follows, glad to be escaping the questions for now. 

“We can’t avoid him forever.” Nicky says before the door is fully shut, picking up their earlier discussion of finding Booker. 

Joe has been steadily avoiding the conversation for the last five months, but with Nile’s questions and Andy’s mortality, they can’t avoid it forever, or even the hundred years they told him. 

“We can.”

“You are being petulant.”

Joe pouts and Nicky crosses the room and pulls Joe to his chest. Joe goes willingly as he kisses Nicky. 

“Fine, I assume you found him?”

“He’s in France.”

Joe snorts, because Booker is nothing but not predictable.

“Of course he is.”

“We’ll leave in the morning.” 

~~~

Telling Andy and Nile that they were leaving the safe house for a couple of days was easier than Joe thought. 

Although, if he’s being honest, he’s pretty sure Andy knows where they’re headed. 

“All the beautiful places in Paris and he picks this place?” Joe snarks as he pulls his sunglasses down to look at the building they tracked Booker to.

“His son lived here.” Nicky says quietly. Joe looks at him sharply.

“You remember where his son lived over three hundred years ago but now how many times we killed each other?”

Nicky looks back at him sharply. “It was four times, Yusuf, and it’s not that I don’t remember. It’s that I don’t want to.” 

Joe grabs Nicky’s hand, suddenly choked up, and squeezes. 

“Amore.” Joe whispers as he puts his forehead against Nicky’s and Nicky squeezes his hand back. 

“C’mon. We have to go to the market, you know he hasn’t eaten a proper meal in months.” 

Joe chuckles, loving Nicky even more.

“Lead the way.”

~~~ 

“This place is really a shit hole.” Joe says as they walk up the stairs to Booker’s apartment. Nicky scowls at him and knocks on the door. 

They hear shuffling coming from inside the apartment , what sounds like bottles falling to the floor, and Joe winces at a loud crash while Nicky sighs. 

“What?” Booker says gruffly as he pulls open the door and then stares at them incredulously. 

“Sebastien.” Nicky says as he shoulders his way into the apartment. “This place is filthy. Where is the kitchen?”

Booker points towards a doorway and Nicky nods his head and disappears. 

“Booker.” Joe claps him on the shoulder and walks past him to sit on the couch.

“What are you doing here?” 

“I’m gonna watch the game.” Joe puts his feet up and lifts up the remote. “You pay the bill?”

Booker nods wordlessly and Joe finds the right channel and settles in.

“Is Andy?” Booker looks away and then looks back at Joe. 

“Everyone’s fine.” 

“And you two?” Booker looks towards the sounds coming from the kitchen. 

“We are here.” 

“Yeah. But why?”

“We will explain after you eat.” Nicky says as he appears with a plate of antipasto. “And after you drink this. And this.” Nicky places two water glasses in front of Booker and Booker nods his thanks. 

“Is this?” 

“Don’t be silly. This is a snack. I’ll be back.” Nicky leaves as quickly as he came and Joe chuckles as he steals some meat and cheese.

“You really thought this was all he was going to feed you?”

“No.” Booker smiles as he drinks his water. 

“So you’re not going to tell me why you’re here?”

“Not yet. C’mon, I wanna watch France lose.”

Booker throws a pillow at him and Joe smirks. 

~~~

In what feels like no time at all Nicky is balancing three bowls of some kind of pasta salad in his arms as he comes back into the living room. 

“I couldn’t make a sauce like I wanted and I know you’re hungry.” Nicky says as he hands Booker his bowl and sits down next to Joe. 

“It’s okay. Thanks.”

“You need better pots and pans.” Nicky waves his hands towards the kitchen as Joe laughs. 

“He doesn’t really cook, Nicolò.”

“Still.” Nicky looks pointedly at Booker. “We taught you better.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Booker says around a mouthful of pasta as he shovels more food into his mouth. Nicky looks on disapprovingly but starts eating himself. 

“I didn’t expect to see either of you.” Booker says quietly, much closer to sober than when they arrived. 

Joe sighs, and figures they should just have the conversation now instead of putting it off for even longer. Nicky nods his head at Joe and Joe leans forward so his hands are on his knees. 

“We’re…” Joe starts and Nicky coughs so Joe starts again. “I’m still mad, but we want you to come back.”

“Why?” 

“Because you’re family.” Nicky answers.

“You still said a hundred years.”

“We were angry.” 

Booker scoffs and looks away. 

“Sebastien.” Joe says and Booker looks at him with surprise on his face. Joe hasn’t called Booker by his birth name in over a century. 

“When we were taken, Nicky wasn’t waking up in the van.” Joe clears his throat as Nicky squeezes his hand. Booker looks stricken but Joe continues. “Terror, like I haven’t known in hundreds of years, gripped me. And then, when we were fighting in the lab, Keane shot Nicky in the head.” 

Joe looks over at Nicky and leans his forehead against Nicky’s briefly before turning back to Booker who has tears in his eyes. 

“He didn’t wake up right away and I thought…”

“Joe.”

“No.” Joe wipes at his own eyes. “I need to say this.”

Booker nods at him and Joe continues.

“I don’t even know what I thought to be honest. It was just terror and anguish. He’s been hurt before, even by my own hand, but never like that.”

“Not by you.” Nicky murmurs and Joe smiles slightly. 

“I don’t ever want to feel like that again. And then I realized, through my anger, that you do feel like that. About your family, your wife, and your sons.”

Booker let’s out an exhale and slumps forward in his chair. 

“We still don’t trust you. And I don’t know how long that will take, but we need our family together, while Andy is still with us.” 

“Has she?”

“She doesn’t have to.” Nicky says and Booker nods. “But we can’t let our feelings keep you from her, when we don’t know what will happen.”

“Thank you.”

Joe nods. “You’re also the only one who can help Nile.”

Booker looks questioningly at Joe and Joe smiles sadly.

“We don’t.” Joe clears his throat. “We don’t remember what it’s like to have family still living and not be able to see them.” Joe scoots closer to Nicky and Nicky leans into him. “We don’t know how to help her.”

“And you think I can?”

“We were the ones who pushed for your exile. Andy said she’d already forgiven you and Nile said that the two of you had connected but left it up to us. So, if you want, I think you can help her.”

“Okay.” Booker smiles and Joe feels lighter than he has in months. “But first I need a shower.”

Nicky laughs, bright and happy. 

“You really do.”

~~~

Joe unlocks the door to the safe house and smiles when he hears Andy and Nile bickering.

“Honey! We’re home!” Joe shouts through the house smiling at Nicky’s laughter and Booker’s snort.

“You gonna tell us where you two went?” Andy says as she rounds the corner into the entryway and pauses mid stride when she sees Booker.

“Book.” Andy breathes out as Booker hugs her. Andy mouths ’thank you’ at them and Joe and Nicky nod in return. 

“Hey, kid.” Joe hugs Nile and she scoffs at the nickname before she goes to hug Nicky and then Booker. 

Joe’s about to ask Andy if they missed anything when the computer Copley gave Nile let’s out a shrill sounding alarm.

“Shit.” Nile runs over and furiously starts typing. 

“What happened?” Nicky says as they all crowd closer to her. 

Nile turns the computer around to face them and it feels like Joe’s been sucker punched. He looks quickly to Nicky and Andy, and they look the same as he feels, while Booker’s mouth is hanging open. 

“I set up alarms for the computer to notify me if it ever found anything. Keywords and such.”

Joe reads the article Nile has displayed on the screen and right there in bold letters it says:

“Fishing Boat Captain finds an Iron Maiden on one of their voyages.”

But that’s not what has them all staring. No. It’s the photo of the Captain with the Iron Maiden and off to the side there’s a woman looking at the camera. 

“Quynh.” 

[chelsfic]

Leftovers - Part Five - Nandor the Relentless x Reader Fanfic

Previous parts: Masterlist

Summary: Nadja sneaks the reader to the vampire rave and things go--predictably--sideways. As in, the reader is in danger! Featuring more Nadja/Reader bonding and some snuggling with Nandor. The reader is feeling more and more at home with the vampires and maybe even starting to see the allure of the vamp life...

A/N: Hey guys! Really read the warnings here. This chapter has some serious angst! I Hope you guys enjoy it and thanks forever for commenting and reblogging--it means the world!

Warnings!!: Memory loss, Hypnosis, Drug use, vampire attack, angst, hurt/comfort

---

You’re seated at the top of the stairs resting your chin in your hands and watching the rest of the household bustle around the front hallway as they prepare to leave for the vampire rave. Nadja is dressed in a stunning midnight black gown studded with sparkling gemstones. You decide that you must have dreamed about her promising to take you because she doesn’t even glance in your direction as they start to file out the front door.

Nandor tries to catch your eye from below but you stubbornly turn your head. You don’t know how it’s possible after living here for such a short time but it hurts to be left out. Even Guillermo is tagging along. You’re the only one being excluded and it stings. 

Nandor refuses to let you sulk in peace. He walks up the stairs towards you and your treasonous eyes track his progress, drinking in the image of him in his tall boots with the cape flowing out behind him. His legs are long and thick and your fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and touch him. He stops a few steps down and you finally look up at his face. 

“Stop this moping around!” he orders with a whine in his voice. “The whole house smells like sad human.”

“Take me with you, then!” you demand, standing to your feet. For once you’re actually taller than him. “You’re taking Guillermo!”

Nandor shakes his head, “Guillermo is a familiar! They’re off limits to other vampires. You’re just…”

He stops himself from completing the sentence so you do it for him.

“Just...food?” you supply and you’re aggravated to feel tears stinging your eyes. 

“Yes!” Nandor blurts, somewhat oblivious to the way your face crumples. “And I’m not going to spend the whole party guarding you from other vampires!”

You retreat back towards your bedroom with a disgusted shake of your head. 

“You’re horrible!”

---

“It wasn’t really a punishment, not inviting the human to the rave party,” Nandor sits in a tall-backed armchair and looks into the camera. “I was more worried about another vampire eating her…”

He’s silent for a beat, looking off to the side in contemplation.

“But Nadja is a bad influence! The human is becoming very insolent!”

---

You’re deep into your sulk and watching Netflix on your laptop when a scraping sound from the window interrupts the gloom. You look up but, of course, you can see nothing through the layer of newspaper pasted over the glass panes to keep out sunlight. The scraping starts up again and this time it’s accompanied by the faint sound of something flapping up against the glass.

You creep up to the window, body tense with anticipation, and you slowly peel off a piece of newspaper to peer out into the darkness.

THWACK!

You flinch backwards as a bat flies into the glass, squeaking and flapping its wings to be let inside.

“...the fuck? Are you serious!?”

You’re either about to find out that vampires turning into bats is a real thing...or you’re about to get rabies. You heave the solid window open and the bat glides inside, exploding into a cloud of black vapor and appearing as Nadja, looking cool and completely nonchalant.

“You can turn into a bat!?” you screech, forgetting your foul mood at once.

Nadja flips her wrist at you, “Of course, my cheeky darling. That’s, like, the most basic power for a vampire. Very simple.”

“Wow...” you marvel under your breath, eyes wide with admiration. Could she be any more cool?

“Now, come to my crypt, baby human. I’ve laid something out for you to wear,” she snaps her fingers and turns on her heel, expecting you to follow obediently. Which...you do.

Now that she’s really here to take you to the rave, of course, you’re awash with second thoughts. Maybe Nandor was right...maybe it’s too risky.

“I don’t know, Nadja...won’t it be dangerous? I mean, Laszlo said it’s basically a feeding frenzy, right?” you hate how diffident you sound but--hey--on the other hand you really like being alive.

“Pshh, don’t worry about that, human,” she scoffs. “I won’t let anyone eat you. Besides, most of those humans will be fine. You don’t want to drink too much drug blood. You only take a little sip and then erase their memory.”

You stay silent as she leads you into the crypt. You know from experience how disorienting “a little sip” can feel…

But your qualms fly out the window when Nadja holds up the dress she’s selected for you. 

“What do you think, darling? You will look like a real little baby vampire in this…”

It’s a floor-length gown in shimmery black and silver brocade with a high neckline and short sleeves trimmed in lace. It’s like nothing you’ve ever imagined wearing and your mouth drops open in awe. Nadja grins and pushes it into your arms.

“Put it on and then I will do something with your hair. Don’t worry about bloody, stupid Nandor. He’s just being a pig dick because he wants to do sex with you but if he does, it will ruin your blood.”

“Wha--how--?” you choke in surprise. “How do you know that?”

“Oh, sweet, stupid human,” Nadja croons and cups your cheeks in her hands. “Nandor is as obvious as a turkey strutting around and waving his feathers in your face. He smells like desire whenever you are near him. Very distinct, very nauseating. He’s just too dumb to know what to do about it.”

Your shoulders droop. It’s obvious Nandor is interested...it’s just a question of whether he’s more interested in you or your blood. You think you know the answer.

Nadja senses the morose train of your thoughts and she interrupts, “But if he sees you in this? He will tear the hair from his chest in anguish until you let him ravish you! Trust me, girly. I know what I’m talking about.”

---

Nadja tucks your hand into the crook of her elbow and leads you up to the doors at the back of the building. A burly vampire stands before the entrance and holds up a hand as you approach.

“Password?” her voice is deep and gravelly. Goosebumps course over your arms and you tuck yourself closer to Nadja.

Rather than respond verbally, Nadja flashes her fangs which seems to be good enough because you’re beckoned through the door right away. Once inside your senses are immediately overwhelmed. Music pours over you, the bass pulsing through your bones. It’s dark except for the flashes of strobe lights and the neon glow of dancers decked in glow sticks and covered in luminescent body paint. Before you’re even out of the doorway someone lurches up to you with a small tube of paint in their hands and presses a finger to your cheek, drawing a heart on your skin. Nadja shoves them away with a curse.

“Fucking, cheeky human! I should kill him for touching you,” she growls.

You’re too busy taking in the sights and sounds to be perturbed. You just pat her arm and yell over the music, “It’s fine, Nadja!”

The vampire shakes away her annoyance and leans into your ear with a giddy grin, “Let’s party, baby.”

Nadja moves through the throng like a queen, expecting the masses to part before her. And they do. You follow along in her wake feeling a bit like a fraud in your borrowed finery. But you suddenly flash back to your early derby days when you’d been petrified of actually going out and skating in front of a crowd of people. Your sister skater clunked her helmet with yours, spit out her mouth guard and said, “Fake it till you make it!”

You lift your chin and for a moment you imagine what it would be like if you were the predator stalking through the night in search of weak, mortal prey. And suddenly it feels like the crowd is parting for both of you.

“Oooo, this looks like a tasty little morsel!” Nadja exclaims, eyeing a petite girl in her 20′s dressed head-to-toe in blinding neon colors. Nadja glides up to the girl and waves her hand in front of her face as she drawls, “You will come with me into the bathroom.”

You trail after them, not wanting to let Nadja out of your sight knowing that there are other vampires here hunting within the crowd.

Nadja clears the bathroom with a wave of her hand and an imperious command. You stand to the side and watch as she takes the girl in her arms and buries her fangs into her soft neck. It should be shocking and terrible but...you’re not bothered. Why aren’t you bothered? Watching Nadja make her attack is like watching a lioness take down a gazelle. She’s powerful and deadly, yes, but also impressive. 

She throws her head back and her blood-stained lips part in a dazed grin. The girl in her arms starts to squirm away and Nadja tightens her hold, drawing the human in with her gaze and speaking just one word, “Forget.”

You watch the girl’s eyes glaze over as Nadja releases her. She stumbles out of the bathroom and back out into the crowd. 

“What if another vampire decides to bite her?” you worry. All these people--yourself included--seem suddenly so fragile and vulnerable in the face of a vampire’s power.

“So?” Nadja asks. She’s licking her lips and swaying a little where she stands, obviously feeling the effects of the drug blood.

“So?” you echo. “So...she could...die…”

Saying these words out loud to your vampire roommate sounds suddenly daft.

Nadja snorts and then she’s overcome with giggles. She leans into your side as you make your way back out onto the dance floor.

“My silly human...you feel bad because you’re still human. I get it. But...you’ll understand eventually,” she says the words directly into your ear so as to be heard over the music. 

“When we...you know,” she mimics biting you and then puts her own wrist to your mouth. You want to ask her what the hell she’s talking about but she’s suddenly dragging you into the center of the dancers and urging you to dance with her. 

The night flies by in a blur of dancing and stalking and drinking. Nadja finds you a “human alcoholic drink” after considerable pouting when you tell her you don’t want to do any party drugs. There are cases of beer and hard cider stacked in one corner and you lose track of how many drinks you have as the evening goes on. You feel pleasantly loose-limbed and giggly. At one point you see Colin feeding off someone in a quiet corner and he sends you friendly wave even as his eyes glow with hungry power. But more and more people pack into the space as the hours go by and it’s so crowded you don’t run into anyone else from the house. You certainly aren’t searching the crowd for a tall, handsome warrior standing head and shoulders over the others.

Certainly not.

Nadja’s just finished feeding from a yummy young man and you’re leaving the bathroom once more when you finally bump into Laszlo.

“My darling, ferocious beast!” Nadja cries, throwing herself at Laszlo, who’s wearing a crown of glow sticks.

Laszlo catches her in his arms and mauls her mouth in a lewd kiss.

“My goodlady wife! At last! Where have you been? I spent twenty minutes fondling a coat rack before I realized it wasn’t you!”

“I’ve been escorting my pet human,” Nadja giggles and reaches out to pat your head. “Cute little human.”

You’re as drunk as you’ve ever been so the insult flies over your head. You rub your face into her palm and smile. Nadja turns back to her husband with a feral snarl and bites into his lips. 

“Come and ravish me, husband,” she growls, pulling him back towards the bathroom. She turns to you as an afterthought, “Wait right here, human. This won’t take long.”

“Hey!” Laszlo complains.

They disappear into the bathroom and you’re left standing by the wall riding a wave of happy drunken delirium and watching the glowing colors swirl around you.

---

Something’s wrong. Something bad happened but whenever you try to recall the details your mind goes blank and a headache twinges at your temples. 

But you know in your bones that something is wrong. 

You can’t bother Nadja and Laszlo while they’re desecrating the bathroom and Colin Robinson is no longer lurking in the corner where you’d seen him. Anyway there’s only one person you want right now. Only one person who can hold you in his strong arms and make you feel safe but you can’t find him in this horrible, pressing crowd. Your face is wet with tears that you don’t even remember crying but now you’re crying again. Big, racking sobs that hurt your throat and you’re shouting his name, trying to be heard over the deafening music.

When you finally spy his broad shoulders under the blood red velvet cape you break into a sprint and collide with his back, wrapping your arms around him and clinging to him without a care in the world for how pitiful you must look.

Nandor stiffens and turns around in your grip. When he finally sees you, your face stained with tears and the collar of your dress torn and soaked in blood, his face darkens and he feels the loose, merry hold of the drug blood leech from his body as fury takes hold.

“Who has done this?” his voice is a low, angry hiss. 

You just shake your head and bury it into his chest. You don’t have any answers for him. 

“Guillermo!” you hear his voice shouting over your head but you’ve retreated, narrowing the world down to the feel of his arms wrapped around your body. Safe. A faint question stirs at the back of your mind. Are you safe here? With him? But...yes, of course you are.

You’re outside the building now, sitting on top of a stack of wooden pallets with Guillermo and Nandor standing before you. Your mind is still buzzing with alcohol consumption and the heavy, empty echo of hypnosis. Nandor tries to fix your dress. The collar is torn and it gapes open revealing the tops of your breasts. You’d surely be mortified if you weren’t currently retreating into your own psyche. He finally gives up with a huff of annoyance and unclasps his heavy cape, dropping it onto your shoulders and wrapping it securely around you. You clutch the fabric in your shaking hands and pull it tighter. It smells like him.

“I need to know who did this,” Nandor mutters to no one in particular. “I will unleash hell upon them. I will snap their neck and stab them with a thousand stakes. I will--”

“Master,” Guillermo interrupts. “She’s been hypnotized…”

“I can make her remember,” Nandor answers and turns to you with his hand raised in front of your face. 

A sudden, intense fear claws up your throat and you grab his hand with both of yours, pushing it away and shrieking, “NO!”

You scramble backwards and nearly fall off the pile of pallets in your desperation to get away. Nandor grabs your shoulders to steady you and you’re shaking under his hands.

“Leave my head alone,” you whisper. Your eyes are wide, haunted and unseeing. 

Nandor continues to hold onto you, rubbing circles into your shoulders and whispering nonsense comfort words. When you’ve finally calmed down he moves to raise his hand up once more and Guillermo shouts, “Master!”

“I can make her feel better, Guillermo!” Nandor shouts back. He looks back at you and the defeated slump of your shoulders and growls in frustration. “Fine! Fu-cking guy…”

He gathers you in his arms, tucking the cape more securely around you and bending his knees in preparation for flight.

“We’ll see you at the house, Guillermo,” he calls and then he’s launching you both upward and soaring into the sky.

The abrupt weightlessness is enough to shake you slightly from your stupor and you squeal in fright, clutching onto Nandor’s lapels for dear life.

“We’re flying!” you cry, looking down at the city lights below before screwing your eyes shut in alarm. “Don’t drop me!”

“I’m not going to drop you,” Nandor scoffs but he looks a little chagrined at the memory of his familiar’s fall during such a flight. 

You wind your arms around his neck and wrap your legs around his waist, clinging onto him like a koala and periodically shrieking like you’re on a rollercoaster. When he finally touches down on the front steps you’re still attached to him with a death grip.

“We’re home, human,” he murmurs, smoothing his hands over your hair. “You can let go…”

You shake your head against his shoulder and utter a muffled, “No.”

Nandor’s rage over what has been done to you is a simmering fire in his belly but now he also feels something unique: a swelling in his chest that feels like pride. You sought him out for safety and protection...and he wants to take care of you…

He walks upstairs to your bedroom, cradling you in his arms all the way. Once inside he lowers you onto the bed and you finally let your grip on him loosen. 

“I’m going to get your bite ointment and some towels to clean your neck,” he whispers and you don’t miss the way his lips curl back from his fangs at the sight of your blood spattered skin. But he ignores the urge to cover the offensive bite with one of his own. 

He leaves for a few minutes and when he returns his arms are laden with bath towels and bandages. You sit with your legs dangling over the side of the bed and mutely observe as he tends to the wound with a gentle touch.

His eyes stay on his work and his jaw clenches as he finally breaks the silence, “You disobeyed me, human. And I’m not happy about that.”

He uses a wet face cloth on your neck and shoulder, cleaning away the dried blood before he applies the antibiotic cream. Your head is still spinning and you can’t really say if it’s from the alcohol, the hypnosis, or the terrifying flight, but you don’t have the energy to reply.

He rips open a band-aid wrapper and continues, “But I’m sorry this happened to you. You’re...special to me. And... I’d be very sad if you died.”

Nandor leans back on his heels and you look into his soft gaze. He looks more open and vulnerable than you’ve seen him and you suppose this admission is as close to a declaration of his feelings as you’re going to get from the vampire.

“Thanks, Nandor,” you reply, tugging the edges of his cape around you.

“I’ll leave you to get changed…”

---

Nandor is standing by his open coffin looking a little lost without Guillermo to tuck him in. He turns in a circle and with the faintest exhalation extinguishes all the candles lining the room. He’s just climbing in when you appear in the doorway, dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You hug your arms around you and lean against the door frame not meeting his eyes.

“Hey…” you trail off, unaccountably bashful about your request.

Nandor’s eyes trail down your bare legs before flicking back up to your face.

“Hello, my little one,” he greets you. “Do you need me to tuck you in? Guillermo isn’t back yet…”

Does he think Guillermo tucks you in at night? Oh, has he...ordered his familiar to do so? It’s kind of adorable and your lips tug up in a smile. He’s an ancient, all powerful vampire who needs to be tucked in every night...er, day?

“No, I--” you clear your throat and start over. “Can I sleep in your coffin? I don’t want to be alone…”

An increasingly familiar warmth floods Nandor’s chest and he smiles revealing his razor sharp fangs, which should really be more terrifying to you, but who are you kidding?

“Come, my mortal,” he stretches out his hand and you take it, stepping up into the coffin and settling yourself around him, no longer even pretending that this is anything other than some serious undead snuggling.

He turns onto his side and spoons up behind you, snuggling with his face buried into the crook of your neck so he can breathe in your sweet scent. He reaches up to take the handle on the inside of the coffin lid and gently closes it over you both.

“You’re safe now, my mortal,” he breathes, dropping a light kiss on your shoulder.

And...you are. With his arms around you and his comforting weight at your back you feel as if nothing can harm you. Nothing, that is, except maybe for him.

But somehow that doesn’t worry you. You bring your hand up and twine your fingers with his, lifting his hand to your mouth and pressing your lips to his knuckles as your eyes drift shut in exhaustion. 

“‘M safe with you, Nandor,” you echo and there are other words, unspoken, that drift through your thoughts as you fall asleep.

---

Tags--let me know if you’d like to be added to the list

@festering-queen​ @glitterportrait​ @kandomeresbitch​ @scuzmunkie​ @redwoodshadows​

[rvmmm21]

. saviour .

summary : seungwan's walk to work is a dangerous one, joohyun knows that. she'll always be seungwan's hero. it's only to look out for her favourite secretary, after all.

small note : i was going to make this longer but my brain glitched, so it’s just here as a tentative one-shot.

tw : noncon, harrassment, physical intimidation.

[yandere!joyrene x secretary!wendy]

...

Her boss was her saviour.

…

It’s getting dark and she’s walking home from work, bundled up warm to keep out the winter chill. Her mind is on a nice, hot dinner and a relaxing bath after an incredibly stressful day. Gosh, it’s finally the weekend, and that means she’s taking full advantage of those forty-eight hours of ‘her’ time. Of course, that probably means binge-watching the latest episodes of her favourite drama with a tray of home baked ‘weekend muffins’ – strawberry shortcake! – and perhaps, if she’s feeling particularly tense, a short walk in the park. Playing secretary to the Chief Inspector attached to one of the busiest police stations in the city of Seoul is as hectic and draining as you’d imagine, and it often leaves her with little time to herself. So naturally, the highlight of everyday is the end of it, where she can actually sit and breathe.

Except, it’s a bit hard to even think about breathing now, because she’s ambushed just around the corner of the convenience store a few blocks away from her street.

“My, you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

Seungwan isn’t sure when she started crying, but she’s beginning to curse herself for cracking at the first thing that came out of this stranger’s mouth. She really needs to learn not to look so weak. Especially not when she’s stuck with a woman who’s so tall, she has to look up at her while she’s pressed up against the wall of this perfectly deserted, perfectly claustrophobic alleyway.

No part of her wants to be stuck with any part of this… this villain, gorgeous as she is.

“Aw, don’t cry. What’s wrong, darling? You’re scared, huh...” The woman reaches up momentarily to wipe the tears streaming down her cheeks, leaning in a little too closely to do so. She has one arm against the wall beside Seungwan’s head, and the iniquitous laugh to top it all off.

Seungwan recognises her… vaguely. I mean everybody has eyes, a nose and a mouth, but the way they’re situated on the face in front of her just… she swears she’s seen that face somewhere, if only from hearing her boss rant about - oh no, oh my gosh. The posters, the meetings that were hastily wrapped up as soon as she opened the door to serve her superior her obligatory morning coffee. The woman holding her at knifepoint right now… is the felon Inspector Bae is currently gathering information on, trying to hunt down to keep behind bars.

This woman is top priority at the station. A criminal. Dangerous.

J-Julia?

Jay?

The name comes to her when a gloved hand reaches up to grab her jaw, forcing her chin up so she’s looking straight into glinting eyes.

Joy.

Seungwan tries her best not to make her terror known, but it’s a miserable failure. “Please,” she whispers hoarsely, too terrified to even beg at a normal pitch. “I’m just – I’m an assistant, I just bring the coffee, I don’t have anything important! They don’t tell me anything! I don’t know about the c-cases, Inspector Bae won’t even tell me her address, I have nothing you want, I – ach!”

A forearm across her throat stops her rambling. Hard bone digs into her windpipe, cutting off more than what she had originally wanted to say. Her hands reflexively shoot up to grasp at the appendage choking her, but she’s only shoved further into the stone whenever she tries to pry it away from her neck. “N-No… no i-information…” she weakly gurgles out, desperately trying to hit it home that she really isn’t of any use. “… h-have… nothing, p-please…”

“Shut up.” The woman threatens her before physically doing it, clamping tighter around Seungwan’s jaw and dissolving her verbal pleas into pleading whimpers. The smirk on those crimson lips is so much scarier than anything she’s said so far. “Silly girl, you have everything I want. I want to send a message. That’s what you’re for, isn’t it? What do you think, baby? Do you think your precious Inspector will stop bothering me if I send her cute little toy to work all messed up, hm?”

Seungwan doesn’t answer. She can’t, with how hard she’s sobbing, breathing still painfully restricted, and trying to curl further into herself. Kicking, punching and screaming for help crosses her mind all at once, but those thoughts are fizzled away by the reality of just dropping to her knees and begging this woman to have mercy on her. Tempting as those instincts are, however, she hasn’t time to act on any of them.

As soon as she’s sure she’s not leaving without at least one lovely, permanent scar, Joy is forcefully ripped away and thrown to the side. And as soon as Seungwan can take her first full breath of air, she’s bolting, instinctively getting as far away from that alley as she can. She only realises she’s been dragging her saviour along with her when two arms around her waist abruptly pull her backwards into a warm body. At this point, the poor girl is so confused that she just turns and buries her face into the front of whoever’s just answered her prayers.

A gentle hand comes up and strokes her hair as she shivers from the aftereffects of the ordeal. After a moment of silence, Seungwan dares to slowly glance up at her rescuer. When she meets those kind eyes, the tension almost immediately shreds away and it’s replaced with a small, fond sigh.

“I-Inspector B – ”

And then the voice corrects her with an awkward sternness. “I’m not in uniform, Ms. Son, please don’t address me like that. Joohyun is fine.”

Joohyun, right. The girl wants to correct her too, to tell her she’d much rather she be ‘Seungwan’ instead of ‘Ms. Son’, but she’s too busy being grateful to form any words other than the ‘thank you’ she thinks she’s repeated at least thirty times now.

“Oh dear, what’s this here?” The raven-haired woman brings a finger up to delicately brush Seungwan’s fringe to the side. The smaller girl can only stare at the shiny silver buttons on her black Burberry trench coat as she’s being inspected.

She winces and flinches back when a frigid draft brushes over the cut on her eyebrow, stinging it.

But Joohyun presses her closer. “No, no, it’s okay, let me see it. I can help.”

Obediently, Seungwan stills to allow her to assess the extent of the damage. A sigh of fatigue draws from her lips when Joohyun’s fingers trace over the small wound. The touch is light and comforting. Comforting enough for it to slip her mind that it’s very late at night and the leftovers sitting in her fridge are waiting to be reheated. That, and her direct superior is in front of her, holding her up while she studies her condition.

She shifts slightly to catch the other woman’s attention. “I’m fine… Joohyun, really.” The name sounds funny coming off like that. “We need to report this, I can come in tomorrow. That was – I think that was Joy – and if she’s in the area then you could be in dan – ”

The grip tightening around her waist is more than mildly inappropriate, but it’s successful in cutting her short. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll file the paperwork, you need to rest.”

Yet again, Seungwan tries to insist that reporting the incident sooner rather than later could be vital in capturing Joy, and that Joy’s arrest took precedence over a minor cut. But Joohyun remains resolute. “Come on,” she says, heaving one of Seungwan’s arms over her shoulder and curling the other around her waist, “I’ll walk you home, just tell me where to go. You could still be targeted. It’s not safe.”

The space between them is non-existent, and the room to compromise, even more so. Joohyun reaches over briefly to tuck Seungwan’s scarf back into her coat before they start walking, and the girl drops her gaze. The fright has worn off and it’s just now terribly embarrassing for her to even be in the presence of someone like Joohyun. I mean, she’s Chief Inspector Bae for god’s sake. She didn’t just get that title, all those gleaming medals and framed awards from twiddling her thumbs and sitting pretty at her desk all day.

It almost makes Seungwan feel like a liability.

If she can’t defend herself from one attacker, why is she even working as an assistant to a woman who hunts villains down for a living? How many times does she think Joohyun is going to be there to catch her when she falls?

But that’s just it.

She is so relieved at the fact she’s still alive, that she forgets to ask how her boss knew exactly where to find her.

…

Much later into the night, a familiar figure in a black trench coat re-enters the alleyway. It’s quiet, and empty. Even emptier than it had been when Seungwan was walking back earlier on, save for the dark, hooded silhouette on the far right, and the grating sound of steel against brick.

“Aaand she finally appears.” The hooded figure greets, sheathing her dagger. “Did your little secretary get home alright?”

Black trench coat scoffs, stepping into the darkness and doing her best not to seem offended. “Sooyoung, did you really have to be that rough? You gave our poor angel such a nasty looking cut. And you made her cry.”

This time, it’s Sooyoung’s turn to take a defensive tone, albeit slightly playful. “Hey, I followed the plan! Scare her, threaten a little… you know, all that bad-guy stuff.” She can’t help herself, she’s always like that with Joohyun: relentlessly teasing. The mockery in her voice alone should be enough for Joohyun to cuff her on the spot, but she knows she’ll never do it.

She’s learnt to tolerate every aspect of Sooyoung’s personality; endearingly annoying as they may be. Still, it doesn’t stop the sinister growl from her throat, despite the grin on her face. It gains the other woman’s full attention instantly.

“Aw, what’s the matter, Hyunnie? Afraid you won’t have any eye-candy at work for a while?” She slides over to her, casually poking the shorter woman in the ribs. There’s a beat of silence and then Sooyoung sticks her bottom lip out in a pout when she’s left hanging. “You think I took it too far, don’t you?”

Joohyun’s reply is a smile. The image of Seungwan trembling in her arms, looking up at her through those fluttering, innocent eyelashes after Sooyoung’s ‘ambush’ is reassurance enough that everything happened at the right time and at the right intensity. Seungwan had looked at her like her saviour. Sooyoung hadn’t overdone it.

Sooyoung takes a tentative step forward, even closer now. “Hyun…”

There’s a genuine gratitude in her voice when Joohyun speaks again. “Thank you, Sooyoung. Really, you did so good for me. For us.”

“No problem, unnie,” Sooyoung makes a show of giving her an exaggerated courtesy, the playful lilt surfacing once more. “It’s my duty, as your – ”

And she’s pulled into a kiss. Five fingers firmly twist into the lapels of her jacket and tug her down into a searing, passionate kiss against the same wall Seungwan was pinned to a few hours ago, where she cried her eyes out.

Joohyun pulls away roughly, lips swollen and tingling from the cold. She smirks when Sooyoung looks as glazed-over as she feels. Their heaving breaths create a thin, silvery fog between them, as Joohyun holds the taller woman’s gaze with ease.

“You are the best, Young-ah. I love you.”

[bumblebee-moreno]

Thunder

Part 6 (and final chapter) of the Weather Series!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

Summary: You and the child pay a harmless visit to a nearby town. Din doesn’t have the same opinion.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Gender Neutral! reader

Word Count: 1522

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: this chapter inspired by a request from anon: “Hey, i was wondering if you would like to write a fic about reader and the child going to the town of any planet, and din comeback to the ship after catching a bounty, and he gets worry, because he told (y/n) that she had to stay in the ship. I need angst and soft mando stuff”

Pedro Pascal requests are open! Get added to my taglists!

“I’ll be back soon,” Din says to you, securing his blaster at his hip. “Promise you’ll stay right here?” Din looks up at you. You nod. “I need to hear you say it, you won’t leave the ship?”

“I won’t leave the ship.” You nod again. Din’s head tilts slightly, pressing you for more. “I promise.”

With a slight nod of his head, Din turns on his heel, leaving you alone on the ship while he works.

_____________________

You’re bored. The child is bored. And when the child is bored, all hell breaks loose. “No, hey!” you call after him, catching objects out of the air while he runs around, giggling hysterically.

You’re about to tear out all your hair. Why is it that he always gets these bursts of energy when Din isn’t around to help?

You suddenly have an idea. Town isn’t that far away. There’s enough distractions there to keep him busy until Din gets back. You just have to make sure you’re not gone too long. “Hey,” You call again. “How about an adventure?”

The child perks up at this, waddling over to you. With a relieved sigh, you scoop him up and head for town. Din will probably be gone for hours, you decide. A little bit of exploration won’t hurt anything. Especially on such a peaceful planet.

‘Just a little while,’ you tell yourself. The town is so cheerful when you get there, with a renewed energy after last night’s thunderstorm, all concept of time is washed away.

You stop at every vendor that looks friendly, and making sure you’re keeping an eye on the child, you take this opportunity to talk anyone’s ear off who will listen to you. You’ve been isolated for months, your only company the child and Din. You can’t help yourself. You need some socializing.

You’re not watching the time. But it’s okay. You’re not in any danger. Right?

_____________________

Din returns to the Razor Crest, the bounty following behind, dragging his feet. Din listens for you as he enters when he doesn’t see you right away. When he’s met with silence, he assumes you’ve laid the child down for a nap and want to keep quiet.

“So um…” the bounty speaks up. “Where do I sit?” Din doesn’t respond, typing into a control panel. “Do I just find somewhere, or…” The bounty continues when he isn’t answered.

Din finally grabs his arm, roughly pulling him. Realising what’s happening, the bounty struggles against Din’s grip. With one swift motion, Din freezes him in carbonite.

After letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, Din scrambles up to the cockpit, a smile spreading on his face in anticipation of hearing all about your day. And for sharing his. Today was the day, he decided, that he’d finally let himself share for the sake of sharing—just like you always do.

You’re not in the cockpit. Okay, maybe you’re taking a nap. Din climbs down to your cot. Empty.

“Y/N?” Din calls out, his voice echoing across the abandoned ship. He checks his cot. Maybe you fell asleep in there? Not that you ever have. But where else would you be? It’s really not that big of a ship.

“Y/N?” Din calls again. And again. He searches the whole ship, calling out for you and the child.

Din finally collapses against a wall. “Shit,” he mutters.

What if something happened to you? Tears blur Din’s vision. What is he talking about, of course something happened to you. You wouldn’t just wander off. Not after you promised…

A loud sob escapes Din’s throat. It’s probably too late now. You’re probably… and the kid…

Oh god.

How could he be so stupid as to leave you here alone?

“Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit—” Din paces back and forth. “Shitshitshitshit—FUCK!” he finally yells, kicking the wall. He can’t lose you. He can’t lose the kid.

What is he supposed to do?

Town isn’t that far of a walk. Din decides to sweep the town for any sign of you. It seems silly, why would someone trying to hurt you take you to a busy town? But it’s the only hope he’s got. He can’t lose you.

_____________________

You’re sitting on the ground next to the child. The pair of you are helping a group of locals weave baskets, though yours don’t look nearly as nice as theirs.

From across the crowd, Din spots you, laughing at the child’s attempts at weaving faster than his basket falls apart. He doesn’t waste time, though. Din tears through the crowd, never once letting you drop from his sight, afraid that if he blinks, you might disappear.

He yanks you by the arm to stand in front of him. You startle, dropping your basket. Or, more accurately, mess of straw.

It takes you a moment to realize who is standing in front of you. “Hey,” You smile at the Mandalorian.

“Time to go.” Din replies simply, barely holding in tears of relief. You’re okay. You’re alive. You’re all right.

Reluctant to lose your new friends, you scoop up the child and follow a silent Din back to the ship.

Din doesn’t speak while you set the child up at the table with some markers and a pad of paper. You don’t speak either. Din seems angry with you. You wonder what you did wrong. He seemed fine before he left.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” Din explodes, causing you to jump back. You’ve never heard Din yell like that. The only time he ever raises his voice is to be heard over a crowd or a long distance. Never to be angry.

“I…” You try to answer. “…What?” You search your brain for any idea of what you did wrong.

“The hell do you mean ‘what’? You said you’d stay here!” Din yells again.

“Oh, Din,” You suddenly remember your promise.

“You promised you’d be here the whole time, and the first thing you did when I left was go to town, to-to-to, what? Weave baskets? Fucking baskets, Y/N? Really?” Din’s voice thunders in the small ship.

“It’s not that big of a deal—” You try to defend yourself.

“It is a big deal! What the hell was I supposed to think when I got back and you weren’t here?” Din’s tone scares you more than last night’s storm. And nothing scares you more than thunder and lightning.

“Um, that I stepped outside for some fresh air because this damn ship is so stuffy? That I went out to socialise because neither you or the kid is exactly good at holding conversation?” Your lower lip begins to quiver. “Din, you’re overreacting.” You bite your lip to stop from crying. You’re not going to be that person that wins arguments by making the other person feel guilty.

“How the hell am I overreacting? I thought I lost you!”

“And what does that matter to you?” tears are welling up in your vision. Little do you know, they’re already streaming down Din’s cheeks. “I’m just the fucking babysitter! Not that fucking hard to replace!” You hate hearing yourself say it. But it’s true. That’s all you are to him. All you’ll ever be.

“You’re not just the babysitter!”

“The hell does that mean?” What else would you be?

“You’re the only fucking company I get! No one else wants to…” Din takes a shaky breath before continuing yelling, “No one actually makes me feel wanted! I don’t want anyone else, I want you.”

“Why?” Surely you’re not the only one in the galaxy who would put up with Din. “Why me and no one else?”

“Because I love you! Okay?” Din confesses, his angry tone mismatching his declaration. “I fucking love you and I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks but no matter how hard I try, I just. Can’t.” Din’s voice cracks at the last word and he stops yelling so much. “And I-I-I’ve never felt this way for anyone before, and I’m so fucking scared to lose you because I’m in love with you and I’m afraid I won’t ever feel like this again for anyone else! I want you because for once in my life, I’m happy. And it’s because of you.” Din can’t hold back sobs anymore. The sounds of his choked cries cause tears to begin to slip down your face as well. “You’re my whole universe, Y/N. You’re the first thing I see every morning, and my last thought every night. I love you so much. I love your smile, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh. I love how you get so excited over the most stupid things just because you can and-and-and—”

Din collapses into your arms, completely breaking down. You gently guide him to the floor, cradling him in your arms. “I can’t lose you, Y/N,” Din sobs, pressing his helmet further into your neck.

Your heart aches as you rock him back and forth, rubbing circles into his back with your palm. And you finally mutter a response.

“I love you too, Din.”

@keep-hauntingme​ @peggers-n-beggers​ @mandoandyodito​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @h0n3ypi3​ @captainskyline​ @kass-daily​ @astrolo-galaxy​ @and-i-swear-we-are-infinite​ @sweet-n-sour-chicken​ @vikingqueen28​ @spookyold-saintjm​ @breashlyn2000​  @trashbin2​ 

[spoondrifts]

the evergreen needles inside your bones

ao3 link

Whumptober 2020 Prompt, Day 8: Isolation.

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Peter Lukas, Martin Blackwood’s Mother, Jonathan Sims, Daisy Tonner (Mentioned), Elias Bouchard (Mentioned)

CWs: self harm, emotional/psychological abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, depression, past child abuse, suicidal thoughts

He's walking. He isn't sure where he is or how he got here, only that it's rather nice. The air is cool and the breeze is gentle, the sand beneath his feet shifts as he steps. The coastline stretches endlessly on into the fog, which collects in thin, wispy tendrils around his ankles, condensing in little droplets in his glasses. He wipes them off every few minutes. Distantly, seagulls call back and forth, shrill and grating, but the fog muffles it well enough.

There might be a lighthouse, off a ways, but he can't focus on it properly. Every time he tries, it seems to blur and shudder, refusing to be locked down. He understands, sort of. To be seen, to have eyes cut down to your core and pin you in place, defining you... it sounds awful.

To his left, the ocean rushes quietly, white waves lapping against the shore. He can taste salt.

A rush of cloying static fills his head, and then Peter is there. He's wearing his ridiculous sailor's coat, the dumb hat brim on his head hiding his empty eyes.

"Hi, Martin," Peter says, voice warm. He is anything but. "What are you doing in here?"

"Here?" Martin says, a bit confused. His voice sounds distant. He's not sure what Peter means.

"In the Lonely. You weren't in your office and I wanted to go over some emails from tech support I got this morning. Apparently, the archive is having trouble with their computers again, they keep breaking, and if they go over the Institute budget..."

Peter's voice fades out. Martin looks over at the sea; the fog rises to his knees, chilling him to the bone. He's been rather tired of Peter, lately. Despite being typically absent, the man has an exhausting presence, and when given the opportunity he can and will talk for hours. Martin is an expert at tuning him out by now.

"Martin," Peter says sharply, snapping his fingers in front of Martin's eyes and regrettably drawing his attention. "Are you listening to me?"

Martin blinks slowly. Lukas' form is indistinct, growing more hazy by the moment.

"Blackwood," Peter says. He sounds startled as he lurches forward, face twisted in confusion, but Martin steps back and the fog swells up, encompassing, swallowing Peter up. And then Martin is alone.

He hadn't known he could do that.

Far away, the lighthouse beam sweeps through the gloom.

His notebook sits open on his desk, blank white pages staring accusingly at him. Several pages have been ripped out, crumpled, and tossed away, covered in jagged scratches of pen. He rolls the pen over in his fingers, eyeing the notebook.

Picking it up, he braces it on his knee, uncaps the pen, and lifts it. Stares. He presses the tip to the page. Stops, removes it.

it's like drowning

he writes, then scowls and crosses it out. Too Buried-esque.

like clogging, like stifling, like I could reach down my throat and rip my emotions out by their throats. maybe then I could strangle and kill them for good. maybe then I could feel something.

He thinks he can hear someone like his mum scoffing at him, telling him to write something real. Something that isn't so silly, so theatrical.

He looks at the lines for a long while. Grits his teeth. Crosses them out.

Martin watches Jon hurry into the Institute, soaked all the way through and shivering violently. Rain is pouring in unrelenting sheets beyond the doors, a steady drizzle of cold and grey and wet.

Maybe once, Martin would have fetched Jon a cup of tea, offered to hang up his coat to dry for him. Fussed over him all the way into his office, where once, Jon would have snapped out a terse, yes, thank you, Martin, before unsubtly ordering him back to work. Maybe once, Martin would have stood in the break room over a cup of tea for himself, warming his hands, chest aching so deep he feared it might shatter him into a million pieces.

But he can't do that anymore. So he watches Jon shake himself, grumbling about the foul weather, and storm down the hall to the archives without so much as giving Martin a glance.

It's better, this way.

Make yourself useful, Martin, his mum's voice echoes in his head. He's making tea. The Institute is dark and everyone has gone home for the night. Everyone except for Jon, of course, and Daisy, who has been sleeping in the archives ever since Jon dragged her out of the coffin by her fingernails.

Martin doesn't get it. He doesn't get a lot of things about Jonathan Sims, but he doesn't understand the whole Daisy situation most of all.

He remembers the way Jon had staggered into the archives with his throat slit and bleeding, choking out with wry humor that Daisy, the cop, almost killed him, as Martin pressed a handful of paper towels to the wound. He remembers the a rush of worry and anxiety and fury.

And now they're—

They're friends? Maybe more?

No, that's ridiculous. Don't be so melodramatic, Martin. Selfish, jealous boy.

His hands shake as he pours his tea. Stirs in the sugar. Burns his tongue on the first sip. A piece of prose has been rattling around in his head all day, itching to be written down. He doesn't think he has the strength to open his notebook again.

there's a pickaxe behind my eyes, chipping away at my face, causing such a thudding and pounding racket that I can scarcely gather my thoughts into neat little boxes, where they belong. tucked away. pocketed, pocketed, pocketed. I am pocket-sized; stuff me away and fold me into the dark, the background. hide me away. please don't look; I may fracture like stained glass.

Christ, Martin, his mum sneers.

He loses his pen.

It's an accident, and a harmless one, really. He's leaning over his desk—once Elias', once James', once Richard's, once once once all the way back to Jonah Magnus. Painted eyes bright and green and sharp with something, maybe it's amusement, maybe it's malice; who can tell, does it matter—and his fingers fumble, and he drops the pen.

Martin straightens, sighing, and gets up to look for it, assuming it had rolled under the desk. He sweeps his foot over the carpet, peers into the shadows, even paces the room a few times to make sure he's searching everywhere, but it's gone. Frustrated, he pushes the desk out of the way, causing a few papers to slide off and scatter across the ground. The pen still isn't there. He hisses lowly as the damn pen refuses to make an appearance. There's no way it just vanished. It can't have vanished. He very clearly dropped it right there, it should be somewhere on the floor, but the more he looks the more he becomes convinced that it's not.

He stops for a moment. Assesses the office.

It's a mess. The desk, haphazardly shoved to one side; cabinets flung open, none fully closed; himself, panting and flushed hot with irritation and in the epicenter of the disorder. His notebook is on the floor, face down.

There's no pen.

He can feel the anger rising, something burning and steely that squeezes his lungs and rings in his ears, and then—

Christ, it's only a pen, a voice snarls in the back of his mind.

It sounds like his mum.

She's dead and he's here. Sometimes Martin thinks he shouldn't be: here and alive and fine when everyone else is suffering so badly, but then he chastises himself—It doesn't matter. That's his mantra, these days. It doesn't matter how he feels about it. All that matters is that he does it, and he does it well, and no one else has to get hurt by monsters like Elias or Peter or the—the thing that stole Sasha, ever again.

He won't save the day, but maybe. Maybe he can save them. Even if it costs him his life.

Martin sucks in a breath. One. Two. Three. Four. He takes in another.

Faintly, he registers that his wrists are stinging from how hard he is pressing his nails to the skin. Not bleeding, not yet. He has the good sense to pull his hand away and inspect the damage. Four crescent gouges, likely to bruise, and bruise a dark, sickly purple, like rot. Like crawling, infestation, like Jane. He still has scars. He has not touched a peach in over a year.

He breathes deeply, sniffs, and then all at once he is crying. His eyes burn as tears well up and spill over, trickling down his cheeks in uneven rivulets, stopped by his scrabbling fingers that rub valiantly over his face in an attempt to quit, but somehow that only makes it worse and his chest stutters through a hitched sob.

Dropping forward, he gets on his knees and starts to pick up the papers he'd messed up, sniffling and choking down the involuntary sobs. His hands tremble badly as he grabs his notebook and presses it to his chest.

Useless arse, his mum growls. Can't even clean a bloody office because you're too busy getting all weepy over something you chose.

His teeth grind so harshly that his jaw aches.

"Shut up," he hisses, his voice horrifically watery and broken. His notebook slides back to the floor as his hands fly up to cover his ears, desperately trying to block out her cruel words. "Shut up, shut up, shut up, you're gone and you're not coming back and I'm still here when you're not so shut UP!"

He isn't sure how long he crouches there, hands shut tight over his ears, wracked with loud, gasping cries as his body shudders and shakes and falls apart.

It's only when he notices how quiet it is that he finally opens his eyes, lowering his hands.

He's on the beach. The fog curls, gentle, around his huddled form. The waves crash and collide with each other, sending great sprays of salt water into the misty air. His pants are covered in sand.

And the lighthouse looms before him, dizzyingly tall, it's outline distinct and crisp for the first time. Martin breathes in the scent of the sea and slowly rises to his feet. His head is fuzzy, but his chest doesn't hurt anymore, and he isn't sure why he was so upset in the first place. It was just a pen, after all. He sniffs, shaking his head, taking a few wobbly steps towards the lighthouse.

The door is open. Waiting. He can't see what's inside.

When he manages to reach the entrance, he pauses, glancing back. The empty expanse of beach and coastline is still there. It's rather beautiful.

Martin takes in a breath. Another.

He turns, and walks into the lighthouse.

[zombiesbecrazy]

let those eyes sparkle and shine

Summary: It is after the bullet strikes that things slow down.

AO3

“That’s the problem with Napkin Man. He just doesn’t…”

The gunshot rang out loud and clear in the night but before Bruce could do anything, before he could jump in front of Dick, before he could push him out of the way, before he could become a human shield, before he could do anything other than blink, Dick crumpled to the roof of the GCPD, blood pooling and spreading in the light in front of the signal.

It wasn’t like in the movies when everything turned to slow motion; instead everything sped up. Dick was fine, making silly jokes, teasing Bruce and playing games on a regular patrol and then he wasn’t and everything was crashing down.

Instinct and training took over and Bruce was kneeling on the wet tiles in front of his body, applying pressure to his son's head with gauze from his belt before he knew that he had done so. He could hear Jim on the phone in the background and Alfred over the comms in his ear but he ignored them both and focused on the man, his boy, in front of him.

He somehow wasn't dead. He was breathing, fast and sharp and erratic breaths but it was enough to latch onto for the smallest bit of hope. It was similar to how Dick often sounded after a bad dream when he was a child, gasping through the tears and Bruce would hold him, running his hand through his hair, and singing softly to try and soothe the nightmares away.

He couldn't pet his hair to calm him, not while his hands were busy trying to slow the terrifying flow of blood. He couldn't hug him or squeeze him tight. That left only one option.

baby mine, don't you cry. baby mine, dry your eyes.

Dick made a sharp choking sound, a vice tightening in Bruce's chest, but it passed as fast as it happened and he continued to breathe, but it had changed to shallow and slow.

“That’s it. Keep breathing, chum. That’s all you need to do. Just keep breathing.”  Dick's eyes were open under the mask and Bruce thought that maybe they were looking at him but they were glazed and dilated and he was certain that Dick wasn't seeing anything. He wanted to check his pulse, hold his hand, but all he could do was keep his hands firmly on the wound and try and keep his boy alive. “Did you hear that? You were right. I do call you chum,” Bruce whispered, “I’ll remember to you that you were right when you wake up.”

Dick trembled under Bruce's hands and he applied more pressure, just to do something, anything.

rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine

Jim had finished his call to the ambulance and had taken off his jacket and put it under Dick's feet in an attempt to elevate them even just a little bit. "What can I do?"

None of the answers Bruce wanted to say were things that Jim could do, with reversing time being at the top of the list. "Hold his hand. When he's scared he likes it if you hold his hand." Jim immediately took Dick's hand and gripped it tight.

little one when you play, don't you mind what you say.

Alfred said something in his ear that didn't compute before clicking off to another line and Bruce could hear Jim talking, but couldn't focus on what he was saying. Something about Dick being strong and good and none of it was anything that Bruce didn't already know and none of it was any good when the life was draining out of him and all he could do was hold on and whisper sing to his son.

let those eyes sparkle and shine, never a tear, baby of mine

Seconds, minutes, hours, days passed and nothing changed, just the three of them on the roof, two feeling helpless while the third continued to defy expectations simply by still breathing. The movies had it wrong. The gunshots were not the part in slow motion; the waiting for what came afterwards did. It was the part that he remembered most vividly from the other life changing bullets in his life. It was the endless, helpless waiting that was the part that haunted his dreams.

This was sure to join them.

if they knew sweet little you, they'd end up loving you too

They had been in this position before, when one of them had been on death's door and the other had to be the one trying to hold on to them and keep them tied to this world. His earliest partner. His first son. His first Robin, the glow in contrast to his shadow.

This specific light needed to keep shining bright because Bruce didn't know what he would do with another layer added to his darkness. It could be the thing that finally destroyed him beyond repair if it went out like this.

all those same people who scold you, what they'd give just for the right to hold you

Bruce vaguely heard an ambulance siren on the street below, lights flickering in the background, but he paid no attention to it because a different red and blue appeared on his side, not flashing but still a beacon in the dark of the night. “Penny One called me.” Clark's voice was tight, the way it was when he was trying not to show the world that he was afraid, when trying to be the pillar when it was Bruce's turn to be the one that fell apart. “Vic’s going to beam us up to the Watchtower. They’re prepping for surgery up there.”

“We can’t move him, Kal.” Bruce whispered. He was too hurt, too small, too still, too...

from your head to your toes, you're not much, goodness knows

Clark's hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing so that Bruce could feel it through the suit. “He can’t stay on the roof either. We can't help him here.”

“Paramedics are on their way, Batman, but I suggest that if your friend here has a better option available you take it.” said Jim, eyeing the door leading down into the precinct as if they were going to burst through the doors at any second. “If they take him to the hospital he’ll be unmasked whether he makes it or not.”

Dick wouldn't want that and right now there were a lot of options that Dick got a say in so Bruce locked onto this one thing that they could control. "Okay. Watchtower. Lift on three." Clark shifted to lift Dick's body in his arms of warmth and steel, counting softly and the two of them steadily lifted as the boom tube opened up behind, Bruce continuing to cradle Dick's head in his hands.

Dick's breathing picked up again, shaky and sporadic as they moved him. They were hurting him. They were hurting him and they shouldn't...

"Bruce. Keep singing. He can hear you. It was keeping him calm." Clark locked eyes on him, determination shining through the fear. "He's gonna make it."

Bruce nodded. He couldn't do much right now, but he could do that and pray that it would be enough.

but you're so precious to me, cute as can be, baby of mine.

[joeyglowy]

Waiting.

My new obsession is Umbrella Academy and holy shit, I love it so much! Five and Angst go so well together, do they not? I hope you enjoy my reader insert, i’ll uh, come here every once in a while but I wrote this in the spur of the moment and I thought I’d post this SOMEWHERE. I might do more at a later time!

This is my first time posting so if anything’s up, feel free to tell me!

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem! Reader

Warning: Angst

Word Count: 3072

Returning to the present—technically the past but he’s not up for nit-picking the technicalities—while reverting back into a pubescent thirteen year old and simultaneously being on the hunt for the manufacturer who created the prosthetic eye for the person that probably caused the Apocalypse. . . Is a much more taxing task than Number Five had initially anticipated.

 Especially when he kept glancing at a house that was only a few blocks away from his objective.

 His shoulders sagged, not averting his gaze from Meritech as he patiently waited in this shoddy truck for that damn manufacturer to come out. “No, I am not distracted Dolores. I’m just thinking.”

 He took a quick glimpse of his beloved partner. Dolores. The only entity that managed to transcend the paradox of time and space. Never aging, but always beautiful. Despite the amputation of her lower body limbs and an arm (also being marginally bald), he didn’t mind at all. He loved her, nonetheless. She was timeless. Tentatively, he removed his hand from the wheel, gently taking hers in his.

 It felt cold.

 As always.

 He reeled, retreating his hand back to its initial position on the wheel, swallowing hard. He tried to ignore her lifeless gaze. He turned his head to her before looking back at the white building.

 “No, I’m not hiding anything from you Dolores,” Five reassured her once more, looking away almost irritably now. Squeezing the wheel a little harder, he softly relented, “well, they’re not a thing per say, but a person.” Five screwed his eyes shut, ignoring the cruel irony that ruthlessly scraped at his mind, demanding attention. His throat grew drier every time he tried to gulp down a feeling of nausea.

 He looked back at Dolores, sighing. “She’s, an old friend. Before I met you Dolores, she was. . . amusing. Funny. Amicable and whatnot. She was a nice distraction from the insufferable mutations I call family. That’s all she was. . .” he trailed off, as did his mind. Klaus being the nosy druggie he is, had casually mentioned that his old friend had her own house now and slipped her address which just happened to be close to the workplace of the subject of his mission.

 His head snapped up, looking at his partner, aghast by their accusation. “No. NO, I did not like them--” he retorted before looking back up at Meritech, seething. He shook his head, chuckling. “Dolores, I have you, I don’t need them. I--” Five tried again and yet, he found his tongue caught in his throat.

 How. . . How much had you changed?

 Did he even want to know?

 He closed his eyes in defeat, pursing his lips as he surrendered the crown of his head to the rim of the wheel. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I mean, we were barely friends. She was just, a distraction.” Listening attentively to the silence, Five found his will weakening with each passing second, growling as he threw up his hands angrily. “Fine! You win! I’ll go see her, but if we miss the guy who could potentially lead us to the asshole that started the Apocalypse, you’re in trouble,” Five berated his lifelong companion before he groaned, roughly running his hands through his hair before he shook his head.

 Angrily, he threw open the door and shut it behind him. Hands in pockets, he shook his head sadly once more.

 “This is a really bad idea. Dammit Dolores.”

 Within another second, he found himself in front of a newly furbished doorstep. The vivacity and new paint infected the very air; it made him want to choke. How sickening, new beginnings. He smiled bitterly. Wow, he really is a spiteful old man. Yet, here he was, acting like a scared teenager, palms sweating, throat dry as if he’s anticipating having to meet the angry father of his date. He lifted his head, scolding his cowardice and rapped his knuckles on the door.

 The silence was deafening before he heard the approach of heavy footsteps lugging themselves at a leisurely pace. Each step sounded like gunfire. Before he could will himself to use his spatial jump, the door clacked, the lock now free as the doorknob slowly turned and creaked open. He couldn’t stop the small smile that pulled at his lips, his eyes landing on a pair of white fluffy socks. Fighting the strange increase of gravity, he forced himself to look up and interlocked with a pair of shocked [Eye Colour] eyes.

 His heart stopped.

 His fingers twitched in his pockets, which suddenly felt a lot hotter and smaller, his hands getting sweatier. Is hand claustrophobia a thing?

 He smiled casually.

 “Hey [Name]. It’s been a while, hasn’t it.”

 It was more of an acknowledgement to break the suffocating air around the two of you. The particles were interlaced with unsaid words, lost opportunities and broken wishes. He swallowed it all down, trying not to inhale the fumes of reminiscence that threatened to consume him.

 You looked, cosy.

 It made him want to smile.

 Dishevelled hair that had centuries of knots in those [Hair Colour] strands, deep [Eye Colour] eyes that were still widened with inexplicable shock, lush lips that were opened in an ‘o’ shape. You had casual pyjama shorts and an oversized black top that said, ‘My life’s the joke. *Badum Tss*’ and he tried really hard not to grin as you still looked like you had just witness the dead rise.

 Well technically, if you had come to that conclusion, it wouldn’t be completely implausible since he looked the exact same since you last saw him.

 Of course, your features had sharpened while some of your other bustier assets had, rounded, but overall, you look older, prettier, mature and. . .

 Dammit. Taller.

 “Five. . .?”

 For a moment, Five was certain he had blacked out at the sound of your voice before his vision completely cleared to see your frame getting bigger as you stepped out of the doorway and in front of him. You looked down, still in total disbelief, conflicted by what’s in front of you and years of what you had thought you’d known. Damn, he really wanted to laugh. You looked so goddamn stupid.

 “Hey kid.”

 You furrowed your brows; your head recoiling back as you looked down at him, clearly unimpressed. “Uh, funnily enough, I’m actually the adult here.”

 He smirked. “You know what’s funny? The fact that I beat you by twenty years since I’m currently a fifty eight year old in the body of a thirteen year old.” At that, you frowned, squinting at him with a look of confusion and he felt like laughing. He settled for a little snicker. “Yeah, time travel’s a pain in the ass like that.”

 You ran your hand through your hair, blinking excessively, trying to comprehend something he knew you could never wrap your head around. Still, it was funny watching you try. There was a certain beauty in how silly yet predictable you were.

 “That’s, insane. Completely insane. So, what are you doing here then?”

 That, admittedly, was a little less expected. He figured you’d try harder to understand, interrogate him, try and pry answers of your future. He shrugged, not thinking much of it.

 “Well, that’s nothing I can tell you or, anything I’d expect you to understand but--”

 “No, no! I mean, here.” Five snapped his head up and stared up at you in utter shock. You sheepishly smiled, nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe. “Sorry, should have been more specific, I meant here, at my doorstep.”

 Five felt like he was going into cardiac arrest.

 He couldn’t bring himself to utter a single word.

 Sensing his perplexity, you giggled at his bewildered face. Guiltily, you sighed, your head leaning back and you closed your eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out as, blunt, as it did. It’s just, I don’t know, you seemed so intent on acting like you know everything but the truth is, you don’t know anything about me now. Times have changed. I’m a different person Five.” You slowly opened your eyes, a glossy shine and a sad smile now equipped to your visage of sorrow.

 “I don’t think I could ever know you, Number Five. But if there was anything I had picked up on, it was that you hate wasting time.”

 Five felt the world burning around him. Smog clogged his airways as you smiled sweetly at him.

 “I’m sure that, whatever you’re doing here and now is much more important than I could ever understand. There always was something more important you had to attend to. I accepted that a long time ago. Although I’m not going to lie, I’m ecstatic to see you again, honestly, just seeing you here, alive and well makes me want to cry because, I had no idea why you suddenly disappeared all those years ago.”

 You let out a strangled laugh, a single tear falling down and you wiped it away, still offering your smile, wearing your heart on your sleeve. Five was still trying to recover from the shock and for once, he was at a loss. Speechless. He didn’t know what he should say. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, averting his gaze.

 “[Name], listen, I--”

 “Mommy!”

 Five’s eyes widened and he watched a little monster, no older than heh, five, latch onto your side, giggling uncontrollably before she noticed him. He inhaled deeply, the world shattering around him, the splinters cutting him as she hid behind your pair of, rather nice legs.

 “Who’s that Mommy?” she asked softly.

 Your warm laugh permeated the air and like an infection, a smile lit up on the miniature version of you as you squatted down, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

 “Hey Muffin. This is my friend.” You gestured to him, pausing for a moment with hesitance before you smiled contentedly. “Five Hargreeves.”

 Her eyes lit up like diamonds and Five could see they were just like yours every time he used to use his spatial jumps to show off. Her ragged hair and brilliant grin was just like yours too. Yet, he could see the other components that were used to fill the equation to create the beautiful product that stood before him. His shoulders sagged as she beamed, as if the sun had donated its light to her so she could radiate with its warmth and shine.

 He offered a rue smile in return. You noticed.

 “Hey kid.”

 A bittersweet smile formed on your lips as your daughter waved enthusiastically and introduced herself. She shyly turned to you and whispered something delicately in your ear. You felt the sting in your eyes but you giggled mischievously, cupping your mouth but whispering loud enough to be audible to Five’s ears.

 “I think he’s handsome too.”

 Five gulped, he felt his ears burn as you stood up straight, ruffling your daughter’s hair and booped her nose. “Alright honnie, I need to send him off so I can join you on our movie night!”

 “It’s day time though,” he interjected unhelpfully and you shook your head, grinning cheekily.

 “So~?”

 He shrugged, smiling. ���Fair enough.”

 He looked at those smaller [Eye Colour] eyes who stared back at him curiously. She tilted her head. “Hey, Mr. Five, how come you’re named after a number? Do you have any brothers or sisters that are named numbers too?”

 His lips twitched up insincerely. “Yeah, six really stupid ones.”

 “He’s called Five because there’s five annoying things that I hate about him.” You harrumphed, opening an eye playfully, watching him scowl at you. Your daughter giggled, quickly saying her goodbyes before running off squealing.

 He huffed, chortling as he glanced up at you. “She’s a cute kid.” He said honestly.

 “I know.” You said wittingly.

 Five felt helpless under your scrutinising gaze. So much for a nice nostalgic visit. He cleared his throat, saluting you mockingly.

 “Well, I guess that’s my cue to leave.”

 Just as he turned away, he felt a strong grip freeze him solid on the spot. He was forcefully spun around and before he could protest, he was suddenly enveloped in the scent of lavender. It was intoxicating, he trembled, suddenly scared he might collapse under your bone crushing weight, every burden he’s ever caused you suddenly piling onto him. You squeezed him so tight; it made him feel small again, like a real thirteen year old. It felt just like your hugs all the way back then. Too tight.

 Nevertheless, they felt warm.

 As always.

 Then, an icy waterfall thundered in his ears as a gushing ravine was placed between you. He still felt too hot though; he held the urge to pull at his collar and wanted an ice pack for his face. You offered a tired but friendly smile instead.

 You were still the same.

 But everything was different now.

 With that all too familiar smile, you grasped the door like a lifeline, turning your back on him.

 “It was wonderful seeing you again Five. Thank you, for making the time to visit me. I hope that, regardless of what time, space or universe you’re in, you’re happy.”

 You slunk into your house and he just watched as you offered one last sign that made him realise, it was you, you had stolen all of the sun’s radiance first.

 And you passed a bit of your light to everyone you touched.

 “Goodbye Five.”

 “See ya [Last Name].”

 Your door closed with a resounding finality and he stared at the empty spot you had once occupied. Five felt a blistering cold wind in his veins, icing his blood over as he turned around.

 What was he expecting? That you were going to stay stagnant?

 He looked down. In hindsight, he supposed he was too dismissive of you at times. That’s just how he is. He was stupid to think that you wouldn’t do the same. Well, no, you weren’t dismissive of him.

 You just moved on.

 Something he can’t bring himself to do.

 Extra.

 Five sighed, making his way down the street. “Well, that went perfectly.”

 “No kidding! I thought you were going to faint, it was a moving performance though.”

 Five felt the urge to suddenly give up on this wretched world as he turned angrily to his brother who was probably high as balls.

 “How long have you been there?” he spat out with acid in his tone and Klaus shrugged, coming out from behind a swan topiary from the neighbouring house and purred suggestively, several winks following. Five wanted to kill himself and he stalked angrily down the street.

 “Oh hold up! It’s alright; no one should face a broken heart on their own!” Klaus paused shortly to see a glistening knife pointed between his eyes as Five glared, grinning so tightly that his lip split and bled.

 “Drop it Klaus.”

 “Oooh, how scary. You got any rope?” Klaus asked, smiling all the while.

 Five stared at his brother in genuine awe before sighing and lowering the knife. He continued walking back to the truck and his brother followed eagerly in pursuit.

 “You know, if it’s of any consolation, she would have never ended up with you anyway, so you didn’t miss out on anything.”

 Five felt his smile stricken and he growled. “I didn’t ask for your consolation--”

 “Hmm, her first reason could be. . . Ooh! I know! How you always think you’re better than everyone else.” Klaus shrugged, looking about with a carefree expression.

 Five scowled. “I am.”

 “Reason number two, probably the fact that you’re so arrogant, smug and cocky, ugh, but it’s just who you are, you can’t help it!” he says with passion, mocking him. Five then realised that Klaus had heard much more than he initially thought.

 “Three, hmm, toughie. I’d have to say, it’s probably the fact that you proudly parade how everyone is unreliable, untrustworthy or just not worth your time.”

 Five’s eyes widened, a searing guilt igniting in his stomach.

 “Four. . . Hmm, my number! So that means, aha! You’re numb, emotionally constipated. You find more solace in plastic than people. You can never really be honest, can you? Maybe we’re both addicts, we keep coming back to pain. Or maybe that’s more so masochism then?”

 Before Five could retort that he was nothing like Klaus and that he’d kill him if he mentioned Dolores again, his brother turned to him coyly.

 “Darn, I can’t think of a last reason! Do you think it’s something adorable where, even in spite all of that, she still loves you anyway? Awwh, that’d be real sweet.”

 Five stopped dead in his tracks. Klaus giggled in glee. “It’s alright Five, even if no one can love you, I have enough love for the both of us!”

 Five was silent, letting his brother’s words stir in his mind.

 “Say one more word and I will rip out your spinal cord so you can use it as a hookah because, of course, only you would do that.”

 Five coldly brushed past Klaus who stood there, feigning his shock before shrugging, happily trotting behind. “Oooh~ sounds, inventive. You know, I’ve tried a lot of things but I have to say, marrow-juana would have to be a first for me.”

 Five stopped to stare at his brother in a mixture of pity and amusement.

 “You’re an idiot. Although I admit, I’m almost impressed you managed to come up with that on your own and while you’re high.”

 “Aww, thanks! Although your girlfriend’s been waiting for you for a while now, you should be getting back to her shouldn’t you?”

 Five immediately began scowling again before he trudged back to the truck, sour and bitter. Yet, something sad lingered in the air as he watched the asphalt, getting further and further away from your home. He knew who Klaus was really talking about and yet, something stung nonetheless.

 Your home was a place filled with happiness. . . and rightfully, without him in it.

 Life goes on, huh?

 Unfortunately, so do people.

 Damn, how much time did he lose in a wasteland with no one but moulded plastic by his side?

 “Yeah, I know. She’s always waiting. That’s how I survived this whole time.”

[notafeeling]

Everything Stays

A/N Heavily inspired by Rebecca Sugar’s Everything Stays, which I’ve been wanting to write this fic for for over a year.

Warnings: past character death, implied heart disease, grief and implications of depression

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: royality (Roman/Patton)

Genre: sAD,, heavy angst and a whole lot of hurt, some comfort, bitter sweet ending

Excerpt:

“Well…” Patton pauses, mulling over his words. “I don’t want my absence to cause you pain. Not that I’m planning on going anywhere! I just think that you have so many people who love you, Roman, and a whole world out there for you. You can’t… You can’t devote your entire self and essence to one person, you know what I mean?”

“Not really, no.”

-

He hears a laugh; full of giggles and pure happiness. His heart swells as he follows the sound, making his way past their homely fireplace and cozy couches where they had spent so many nights cuddled up together on. The back door of the kitchen is slightly ajar, and he pushes it open to reveal the garden outside.

There, surrounded by fuzzy, golden light is-

Roman wakes up with a gasp. His bedroom is cold and dark. Big and empty. He raises one weary hand to his cheek and feels the wetness there.

As he realises that it happened again, he curls in on himself, hugging his arms tight around his body in a futile attempt to keep himself together.

-

“You know, Ro, you can talk to me.” Virgil sits across from him in an unfamiliar coffee shop, his voice gentle.

“Yeah, I know,” Roman replies. “That’s what I’m doing right now, isn’t it?” He tries for a smile, but the corners of his mouth are too heavy to lift.

Virgil sighs. He goes back to stirring copious amounts of sugar in his coffee, taking an experimental sip every now and again and wincing. The coffee here is terrible.

But it feels wrong to go to the one closer to his and- to Roman’s house.

-

Around him is laughter and warmth, radiating from the onlooking baristas and the man across from him.

“You come here often?” Roman asks a handsome man sitting in the corner by the window.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Oh?”

“I work here, silly!” The man laughs as the blush overtakes Roman’s tan skin.

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. It’s not every day someone pretty starts flirting with you.”

Pretty, Roman thinks. He could get used to being called that.

“So, what’s your name?”

-

Roman walks through the silent streets, hands shoved in his pockets. He doesn’t know where he’s going. It’s fine, though. He’s fine.

It must be around three in the morning - the drunks have all stumbled home and the sane people have locked their doors and snuggled into bed.

Roman’s heart aches every time he thinks of home and his spacious bed.

So he walks.

It starts raining at some point. The freezing water seeps through his clothes and eventually, his subconsciousness leads him home. When he’s aware of his surroundings again, he’s sitting in front of the unlit fireplace.

He’s been through enough of Logan’s lectures to know that he should take off his wet clothes before he catches hypothermia, but instead, he tugs the cardigan closer to his body.

-

The back door of the kitchen is open again. Roman, distantly in his mind, knows it’s a dream, knows what’s going to happen, but he walks through anyway. His feet follow the sound of his beloved’s laugh.

It’s fainter now. It’s been almost a year, so it’s not that surprising when he can’t remember exactly how it sounded.

He makes it through the door. The fuzzy, golden light he’s grown so used to solidifies.

This is the part his subconscious always forces him to wake up. His brain had never been that cruel to show him the next part, but this time, this time he finally sees him.

“Roman!” calls Patton as he spins around to face him. He has a wide, impossibly bright smile on his face. Roman can still see the dimples, the little crinkles around his softened eyes and the slightly smudged glasses his love wears.

Roman rushes forward and picks Patton up in his arms, swinging him around and around, just like on that day. He puts him down, even though he desperately doesn’t want to. Roman wants to scream at himself to never let Patton go, but dreams don’t work like that.

“Look what I got you, Ro!” Patton says. He grabs Roman’s arm and tugs him towards the old swing set.

No, no-

“No!” Roman shrieks, hand outstretched. As he comes to, he realises he’s lying on the living room floor. His fingers clench in the air.

There’s a knock at the door. “Roman?” the person asks. “Are you okay?”

He heaves himself up and opens it. There’s Logan, black suit and black tie, a crease in his eyebrows barely showing from behind his thick frames.

“Roman?” he inquires again. “Virgil’s waiting in the car.”

Why- oh. “I’ll… Let me get changed.” Roman’s voice is flat. Hollow. Logan purses his lips and nods before returning to his car.

Roman can see them have a quiet conversation, no doubt about him, and he turns.

The door shuts behind him.

-

Everywhere he looks is the same, clinical white. He hates it. And he knows Patton would too.

The chair he sits on is made from uncomfortable plastic and he thinks that if Patton were running this place, it’d be super comfy. There would be bright colours and free candy and friendly staff.

Not like that judgemental asshole who keeps staring at him with big pity eyes from behind her desk. Mind your own business, Susan, or whatever your name is.

The doors swing open and in rush Virgil and Logan.

“We got here as soon as we could,” Logan explains as Virgil immediately flings himself at Roman.

“Shit, any news yet?”

Roman shakes his head no. He doesn’t know why they’re so panicked. Patton will be fine. It’s not a big deal, because-

Because Patton doesn’t break his promises.

-

Roman puts on a suit, then takes that off. He’s not Logan, thanks. He doesn’t want this day to be so depressingly formal. Plus, if Virgil gets to wear his hoodie, then he can wear whatever the fuck he wants.

As he stares into his closet, eyes determinedly focussed on only the right half, he’s struck with the thought that this must be the first time in a year since he actually cared about what he wore.

And it’s stupid! Except, no, no it’s not. He wants to- wants to pay proper respect.

He puts the suit back on.

-

“Look what I got you, Ro!”

There, on their old swing set, is an adorable teddy bear. It’s wearing a red sash and has a little plush sword sown into its hand.

“Remember? It’s your prince outfit from the first play I saw you act in!”

“How could I forget?”

As the memory plays, Roman tries to recall Patton running up to him after that very play. He knows that that was when he first asked Patton out, but he doesn’t remember Patton’s exact answer. He can’t see the crinkles around his eyes clearly, he just knows that they were there.

In fact, the Patton in front of him now has lost his glow. The entire memory is darker, faded.

But that clears up when Patton puts his hand to his chest, frowning.

“Patton? What’s wrong?”

-

Roman grabs his wallet. He should buy flowers on the way there. Logan and Virgil probably already have a bouquet of their own, but it feels like he should have a separate one.

One with hydrangeas and irises and forget-me-nots, contrasted with white roses. Patton had always loved blue.

He passes the kitchen, then pauses. His body has a mind of its own as Roman walks to the backdoor in a daze.

He twists the knob, creaking it open.

-

“Roman, I can’t- I can’t- my chest, it feels so tight,” Patton gasps. Roman rushes to his side. “It hurts; I can’t breathe; Roman, please-”

“Patton, dear, it’ll be okay, let me just-”

-

Weeds have overtaken their backyard. Guilt pierces Roman’s already tender heart as he spies Patton’s garden. Vines creep up the fence and plants spill over the edge of their garden beds, roots lifting the bricks from the path. He eyes scan the scene and he spies the old swing set.

And the bear on the ground beside it.

-

Patton’s grip loosens on the bear as his knees buckles. Roman catches him, lowering him gently to the dirt floor.

“Help is coming soon, Pat, don’t worry, don’t go, don’t leave,” he whispers over and over.

“I won’t, I promise,” Patton chokes out.

One of Roman’s hands moves to gently stroke Patton’s hair while the other grips Patton’s shirt tight.

The paramedics are quick to arrive.

-

Roman’s fingers tremble as he kneels down to turn the bear over. Its face is dirtied and the colour has drained away but-

He loves it so, so much. Even though it hurts to look at, to remember.

He picks it up and carries it out to where Logan and Virgil are waiting.

-

The ambulance ride there is anything but silent. Roman and Patton’s sobs fill the room as the paramedics try to soothe them, try to help. The siren is loud and shrill as the ambulance races towards the hospital.

Then they’re being bustled into the emergency room. Roman’s told he has to wait.

He watches as Patton is taken away from him. If he had known it would be the last time he’d see Patton alive, he’d run alongside him, even if he wasn’t allowed.

But he doesn’t know yet, and he feels so numb.

The double-doors swing shut.

-

“We’re here,” Virgil murmurs, briefly touching Roman’s shoulder. “C’mon.”

It takes a while to get to it. It seems rude to run in a place like this, so they don’t hurry.

Or maybe Virgil and Logan just don’t want to rush Roman.

They can’t put it off forever, though. All too soon, the three of them are standing around a slab of concrete and a small tombstone.

Virgil starts sniffling and Roman can see a few tears leak out of Logan’s eyes. He aches to comfort them, but there’s nothing he can say.

He kneels beside the grave and gently places his bouquet of flowers.

“I hope it’s not lonely there,” he whispers. His eyes sting. He swipes at them and continues. “I miss you, Patton. Every day. And I know you miss me, so… So here’s mini-me.” He positions the teddy bear upright, hand lingering on the fur before pulling away. “Take good care of him for me, okay?”

That’s the last thing he manages to get out before he begins to sob.

-

“I’ll love you forever and ever!” Roman proclaims one night. They’re stargazing in the park Roman had taken them. “You’re everything to me!”

Patton’s eyes soften. “I love you too, but don’t say that.”

Roman had said it as a romantic thing, so he doesn’t understand why not and voices as such.

“Well…” Patton pauses, mulling over his words. “I don’t want my absence to cause you pain. Not that I’m planning on going anywhere! I just think that you have so many people who love you, Roman, and a whole world out there for you. You can’t… You can’t devote your entire self and essence to one person, you know what I mean?”

“Not really, no.”

Patton laughs. “That’s alright. I’m not the best with words and I can’t expect everyone to think the same as I do!”

Roman laughs too.

-

Back then, he hadn’t understood. He hadn’t for the past year, either. It felt wrong to be happy without Patton by his side. It felt wrong to go and do the things he used to do when every step was a chore because it was a step without Patton.

But as he stands up, he understands what he meant.

And he promises to Pat that he’ll work on being happy again.

-

A/N I wanted to try my hand at non-linear story-telling. Hoped it was as effective as I intended! 

Anyway, if you liked this fic, may I recommend Regression Toward the Mean. It’s another royality au (this time patton-centric) with a bitter-sweet ending, inspired by Troye Sivan’s The Good Side. It’s also one of my all-time favourite fics of mine.

Both that fic and this one are odes to something an old friend of mine once said to me. They said that they wished there were more fics about moving on after tragedy or after a relationship (platonic or romantic) has ended.

That has been something I personally struggled, but I’m learning to let go.