#didn't notice the options at first was in brief panic

[factorialsotherfandoms]

TW: Unreality, major character injury, poor medical technique (and IC they know they're not getting it quite right too), panic attacks, brief vomitting

Maybe a bit long for tumblr, but eh, you'll live, and I'll upload it eventually.

Theoretically safe in his room, FitMC is awoken by the sound of his warpstone activating. He sits, and reaches for a knife, and feels Pac sleepily grasp for him as he disturbs the man's sleep.

"Pac," he keeps his voice as quiet as possible. "Let go. Someone's here."

Pac does not wake as cleanly as Fit, but still grips the knife passed to him, hiding it under the blanket and still pretending to be asleep.

Whomever came takes a while to find them, but eventually there is a knock on his bedroom door; Fit grips his sword, wishes he'd realised he had time to dress and put armour on, and calls "come in!"

Two small figures run into the room, and he tucks the sword away - keeps it close, just in case these are imposters again, but tucks it away.

"Tallulah?" Pac has noticed them too, sitting up as soon as he does and opening his arms. "Chayanne? What's wrong?"

Tallulah runs over and hides in Pac's arms before pulling out a sign; Chayanne gets straight onto writing his. Neither child has their hat or their backpack, and there's the slight glow of a potion over both of them.

'/Something's wrong with dad/' Chayanne writes, then pulls out another sign.

'/Papa says the house is on fire. It's not/' Tallulah writes.

Right. Fuck. Another message? After the last one... Fit's genuinely concerned. He believes well enough that the messages are real, but he worries about the doubt they cast into Philza's mind - and also what something like that contacting his friend could possibly mean.

'/He said find you/' Chayanne's second sign reads. '/Will you help him?/'

'/He was scared/' Tallulah adds. '/Tios, papa is so scared/'

Fit and Pac share a look. Pac nods, and Fit wishes he were telepathic and so could send his roommate an apology for the disturbed night.

"Why don't I go help him out?" Fit offers. "I'll go look after him and have a chat. Pac can look after you two."

"A sleepover!" Pac's grin at them both is strained, but Fit doubts the children notice. "Let's go to my home and eat all the chocolate, yes? Chayanne, do you want to make a cake for your papa?"

Fewer people know of Ilha Chume Labs than Fit's hole in the ground, and even if he means Chume Labs proper the warren of labs will keep them safe.

The kids are still hesitant to agree; Fit smiles at them too, and nods, "your little secret. I know Phil says no snacks after bedtime, but he left you in my care and I say you can."

It doesn't really win them over; Chayanne puts down another sign '/you promise to help dad?/'

Fit makes eye contact with the boy, deadly serious, "everything I can. I promise."

'/you leave first/'

Fit doesn't know if Philza trusts Pac with his children, but Fit trusts him, and honestly they're the least of his concerns. The old crow thinking himself trapped in a burning house - why the hell didn't he leave with the kids - is far more of his worry. Is it the Ender King again? Or some other fucked up entity contacting him in the most bullshit way possible?

"Alright," he says, and grabs his warpstone and a shirt. "Be good for Pac, okay?"

"They're sweet," Pac promises. "They'll be good."

Fit knows that’s a lie, but Pac wrangles Richas well enough, so surely he can manage Philza's kids.

He trusts his faith, and worries for a friend, and warps away.

---

Phil and Missa is quiet, and still, and just as calm as it always is. The moonlight reflects on the glass, and it looks nothing like a house that two children might have fled from. Nothing at all seems wrong, but nothing ever does seem wrong; Fit knows better than to take it at face value.

He’s already opened the hatch before he remembers just how jumpy his friend is, and calls out a loud “oi, Phil!”

He’s already in the main room by the time he hears a reply, glancing between the three options as he fails to choose one.

“Kitchen,” Philza’s voice is quiet, broken, strained as though speaking on an over-strained throat. “Be-” a cough “be careful!”

Careful of what? Tallulah said he thought the house was on fire, so… It’s a waste of resources, but Fit splashes himself with a fire resistance potion anyway. Just so he can tell Philza he’s safe, and not have to lie about any follow up questions.

Depends how bad the vision is, really.

Because Fit is pretty sure they are visions, not hallucinations. It’s just the after-effects on his old friend’s mental health are worse for it.

The kitchen is the door to the left. When Fit steps in, he makes a show of checking it. Everything is normal - down to and including the pot on the stove - except for Philza himself. Still in his pyjamas, stood with his back to the wall. He looked like he was reading something, but glances over his shoulder as soon as he hears Fit approach.

There’s nothing in his hands, not that Fit can see, but they still hover like they’re holding up a book.

His eyes are shot wide open, so wide it goes past terror to border on head injury. His breathing, too, is fucked - Fit can see him panting - but that’s a panic attack for you.

“You good?” Fit asks someone who very, very obviously isn’t. “I was worried, so I asked Pac to watch the kids. Chayanne and Tallulah said something was wrong…?”

It looks like Philza is about to reply, but then he starts coughing. Fit gives him a moment, but it keeps going. His body shudders, gasping for air between coughs as he slumps against the wall.

It’s fucking terrifying; Fit runs forwards before he knows what to say, only stopping himself once Philza manages to catch his breath, and Fit remembers what a fucking terrible idea it is to charge someone whose brain is trapped outside reality.

So he slows to a stop, and brings up his hands.

“Easy, easy,” Fit drops his voice lower, trying to project calm he absolutely does not feel. “What can you see, Phil? Because whoever’s talking to you, they’re not talking to me.”

“Not- ah- not talking?” Philza takes a deep, sharp breath - gasping again. His voice is shaking, distant, so quiet Fit has to strain to hear it even over the silence. “Fire. It’s- It’s fucking… hell in here. Lava. Netherrack. Soul- Soul sand. The whole- whole lot, Fit, the whole damned lot.”

The Nether? Shit. Nobody likes the Nether, so no wonder Phil is panicking so hard he’s choking himself. Fit eases himself forward a little more, trying not to scare his friend more than he’s already terrified.

“What else?” he asks.

It’s not exactly grounding when Philza is seeing another reality, but it’s the only thing Fit knows how to try.

“Book, blackstone, blaze rod, quartress.”

That train of words is said much more clearly, more certainly, but still sounding called from a much greater distance than is between them. Fit can hear the panicked tears threatening to spill over with every word, and his heart fucking breaks.

Gentle, gentle, do his best to help. Fit’s not a gentle person by nature, but if his friends need him he’s going to try.

“Hey, hey look at me,” he orders, trying to be kind but knowing he’s a bit sharper than usual. What can he do to break the tension? Flirt? Flirting always goes down a treat. “See this sexy bald head of mine? I’m not going to let any Ender King hurt you /or/ your kids.”

Fit isn’t exactly sure how he could stop anything with such a name, but he’d certainly try. 

Then Philza says something. It’s so quiet and broken up he can barely hear it, his breathing growing faster and more desperate as he does.

It takes Fit a moment to parse the words - “not him. Blaze Em-press. His enemy.”

What?

“That’s why she set your house on fire? Pissed he got you first?”

It’s the only sense he can make of the enemy of someone Philza is so fucking terrified of making him think he and his house are burning.

“A friend,” Philza says, and begins coughing again. “She’s- a… friend. But’s she’s- … Also the Nether… You know? I-I think- Fuck, my head hurts.”

No bet.

Philza coughs again, spit hitting the floor. At first Fit thinks nothing of it, then he notices the discolouration - not black, not fully black, but slightly speckled with it.

Shit. The coughing isn’t because he panicked himself into not breathing right. The vision… The vision isn’t a hallucination, and it isn’t just a vision, because whatever Philza’s brain can do it can’t fucking fake smoke in his lungs.

Smoke that as far as Fit can tell /does not exist/.

“Not really,” he answers, shaky himself now but needing to reply to the ‘you know’. He has friends, yeah, but if they set his house on fire and tried to kill him by smoke inhalation they wouldn’t be soon. “Let’s get you out of here, and grab some water.”

And once Philza is away from the smoke, get him to Pac and hope the engineer has fucked around in the lab enough to know what to do, because this is far beyond Fit’s abilities to treat.

Philza doens’t reply; Fit closes the rest of the distance. He kneels down infront of his friend, touching his shoulder and trying to assess his condition - no burns on his face, at least. From what Fit remembers, burns on your face mean you’re extremely fucked.

The touch at least seems to break Philza’s trance a little; he reaches out and touches Fit’s shoulders too, using them to lever himself up. Having realised his friend is legitimately and physically hurt, Fit keeps his hands near.

Just in case.

“I’m sorry,” it seems hard for Philza to breathe, and harder still for him to talk. “I must look… I’m sorry.”

He’s back to himself a little, then, but it’s still awful words he says.

“You’re scared,” Fit says, and he’s terrified too - he’s just forcing his breaths steady, his heart calm, and accepting the fact he’ll have nightmares about this day for months. “It’s fucking scary, just thinking about the idea. Entities from elsewhere lasering shit into your brain? Making you think your house is on fire? No thanks.”

Philza laughs, and it’s blissfully familiar for a second.

Then the coughing starts again.

Philza borderline collapses, his body unable to take the force of the coughs. Fit grabs him, keeping him from the floor. He helps him bend a bit better and rubs at his back. That’s what you do to help someone stop coughing, right? Rub their back?

Fuck, he’s so out of his depth right now.

“Easy, easy,” he tries. “Let’s just get out of here. We can talk outside.”

Under Fit’s guidance, Philza manages to walk. It’s slow going, and Fit has at least half of his weight, but he manages. It’s not far to outside, at least; the bunker is big for a bunker, but it’s still no labyrinth.

And then Philze drops from his hold.

“Fuck!”

Fit doesn’t even know what happens. One moment they’re walking, the next Philza is on - in - the floor. He has no way to comprehend it, his entire mind fucking straining to compute seeing both the wooden floor and Philza /inside/ it at once.

And Philza is screaming in agony. Agony, agony, fuck Fit doesn’t think he’s ever heard him scream like that before.

He doesn’t - he doesn’t know what to do.

So he grabs Philza and yanks him up. The floor gives him up easily, and Fit scroops him into his arms.

There’s burns, there’s so many burns - every bit of Philza that was below the floorline - thank fuck not his chest or his head, the survalist managing to catch himself like so many times before - is burnt. His hands, his feet, lower arms, most of his legs…

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Fit tries to reassure.

He doesn’t worry about taking it slowly or about stopping the injuries getting knocked - what Philza needs is out, and away, and he knows Pac has shit for burns they’ve just got to get there.

But first, cold water. Chume Labs is huge, and Chayanne’s paddling pool is a quicker walk.

And every step of the way, Philza screams and sobs and chokes on his throat.

He keeps up the promises of it’ll be okay, trying desperately to soothe at least one of the three. He carries Philza outside. It’s not glamorous or comfortable, but they get there. They get there, they fucking get there.

Fit as good as dumps Philza in the paddling pool, making sure the burns are covered by water. There’s a shudder in the screams, and the sobs start winning; with one hand he rubs Philza’s back, still awkwardly promising his presence, while with the other he grabs his communicator.

/You whisper to pactw: Where are you?/

The reply isn’t immediate. He considers texting the injuries, but… maybe best to assess them first. Let Pac know exactly what they’re dealing with, and also make sure Philza is okay with the Brazilian’s help.

Speaking of… Philza has mostly stopped choking.

But he isn’t doing much of anything else.

“Phil?” he asks, keeping his voice low and simple. “Can you hear me, Phil?”

Philza moves up a little, like he’s straightening to answer. He opens his mouth and- and then leans sideways, over some of the nearby flowers.

Fit can only support his back and watch in terror as Philza vomits into the bushes, flecks of sticky black smoke clinging to that too.

He can feel his own hands shaking as he supports his friend, keeping him from getting vomit on his injuries or in the water, and trying to comfort him all the same. It’s horrible, it’s terrifying, but there’s not exactly much he can do.

Hopefully it’s just panic nausea. He hopes to Hausmaster it’s just panic nausea.

After only a little bit the vomit ends, Philza leaning back and being caught against Philza’s chest.

“... Fit?” his voice is even weaker than before.

“Right here, big boy,” Fit tries to keep his reply lighter than his horror. “You with me?”

There’s a shuddering breath, followed by a nod.

Philza could probably do with a potion, but the only one he has is in Fit’s pocket. He didn’t grab his bag or anything before heading over, and he’s regretting it now. But to access it…

“Okay, fuck,” he breathes, clearing his mind with the swearing. “If I let go for a second, can you keep yourself above water?”

There’s a hesitant nod - Fit slowly lets go as Philza adjusts, making sure he is steady before digging through his pockets. The potion is… Somewhere. It won’t fix everything, not for shit this bad, but it’ll help with the shock and any infection risk and take the edge off the pain. Maybe heal some of his throat on the way down, too.

He finds it, and puts it to Philza’s lips. It doesn’t take much effort to convince him to drink, pink liquid going easily down.

When he opens his eyes, Philza looks a little more present, and Fit sighs in relief.

“What happened?” his voice is still quiet and scratched, but more solid than when they first got to the pool.

“Fuck if I know,” and honestly, it’s true. Fit can guess and such, but half of the reason he believes in magic crap so easily is because it constantly happens and he has no idea how to parse it, so may as well just take it at face value. “The lava burns are real, though. There was nothing there, it was like watching… I don’t fucking know, you glitch into the floor? Then you screamed, and there’s lava burns.”

He watches Philza examine his burns. With a worried hand he stops him from taking them from the water, massaging his shoulder with a thumb he can only hope is comforting.

It’s comforting for Fit, at least.

“Can I message Pac about this?” he asks, because fuck he’s out of his depth, and Pac and Mike have dealt with enough lab accidents to know some weird medical areas.

Philza quirks something like an attempted smile, “assumed you’d already told him, mate.”

“Not about this,” Fit hasn’t, either; only asking where Pac is since he left. “But… Look, I can stop the burns killing you, but I can’t treat them properly, and I’m pretty sure your lungs are fucked.”

Confusion crawls across Philza’s face. Fit watches in concern as he raises a hand to his lips, it coming away with some of the discoloured, sticky mucus.

He sees the terror in Philza’s eyes as he glances up to meet them.

“Can we not scare the kids?”

Fit takes that as permission. He opens his comms, to find Pac has already replied.

/pactw whispers to you: at Chume Labs

pactw whispers to you: got Chayanne and Tallulah asleep in Mike’s room

pactw whispers to you: how’s Philza?

you whisper to pactw: not good. You got anything for lava burns and smoke inhalation?/

“Pac says they’re already asleep,” Fit promises, and keeps any wondering about how that happened to himself. “They’re going to notice, but we can just tell them in the morning.”

But at least by then the burns will be covered up and their dad might have his head back.

Philza nods, and Fit returns to his comms.

/pactw whispers to you: the fire was real?

you whisper to pactw: real enough to hurt him, not real enough for me to see

you whisper to pactw: it’s freaking me out, but i know what burns look like

you whisper to pactw: and vomiting up smoke ash/

He looks up from the comms to find Philza’s eyes closed. For a moment his heart stops; “don’t sleep just yet.”

Philza gestures at him in reply, and he isn’t sure what it is, but it’s a sign of life at least.

Something approximating fuck off, he’s sure. Fit turns back to his comms, but keeps a closer eye on his friend.

/pactw whispers to you: bring him here

pactw whispers to you: i’m not a doctor but we have some supplies

pactw whispers to you: will get it set up

pactw whispers to you: or would the order be better?

you whisper to pactw: will ask/

“Okay,” he looks at Philza more critically, assessing the damage for himself. “Pac’s got stuff at Chume Labs, and luckily for us that’s also where he took Chayanne and Tallulah. He can either meet us there, or at the Order.”

“Kids,” Philza immediately replies, and Fit is not the slightest bit surprised.

/you whisper to pactw: we’ll come to you/

“Right,” he glances over Pac’s confirmation, and shuts his communicator away. “Do you think you can manage your warpstone?”

Fit really, really hopes that Philza pulling it out means yes, because he’s not sure how to get him anywhere otherwise.

So he pulls out his own, and warps over there.

---

When he arrives Chume Labs, Philza is half-collapsed against the waystone, and dripping wet. Neither is unexpected; Fit scoops him back up, and carries him to the turtle. There’s worryingly little reaction, but his eyes are open and blinking normally, and he winces properly when he coughs.

Managing the turtle while carrying someone is a bit awkward, but Fit manages. Just like he usually does. As it makes its way across, Fit texts Pac to let them know they’re there. He expects a message back saying which floor to go to, but instead Pac meets them at the elevator.

“Fit?” he asks first, then. “Phil? Are you okay?”

Philza manages to mumble something which sounds mostly like a hello; the look Fit and Pac share is worried. Fit sits them both down while Pac sets the floor, and the mechanism crawls to life.

“Here, I bought splash potions,” Pac shows them first to Fit, before throwing them on Philza.

Fit gets splashed as well, the tingle running along his skin. Philza’s body relaxes somewhat, his breathing steadying a little.

“Thank you, Pac,” Fit says. “I didn’t have my bag.”

“Did you have anything?” Pac asks, hands trembling as he visually checks them both over.

“Gave him a basic potion just before I messaged you,” Fit replies. “Otherwise… Got him in cold water, but I didn’t know what else.”

Pac nods, shifting between his feet, “we need a real hospital.”

“We need a real doctor,” Fit points out.

Pac can do nothing but agree to that. He’s about to say something else, when the lift arrives.

There’s a bed with some equipment set up on one side, but Pac leads Fit and Philza over to a chair instead. It’s just like the ones Pac constantly leaves around, except red this time. A whole pile of equipment is beside it, and it faces an open door.

One which shows Chayanne, Tallulah, and Richas safely asleep in a little pile.

Fit places Philza on the chair, only able to stand and watch as Pac fits an oxygen mask to his face.

“He should really have,” Pac gestures a bit, frowning as he pulls the elastics properly. “I forget the word. But nobody knows how to do it, so…”

“That bad?” Fit asks.

“There’s not much to do. Makes it really scary,” Pac frowns, hands twitching a little as he pulls them away. “Can you help me? With the burns.”

“Of course. What do you need, Pac?”

Something useful to do is better than any other option. Fit is handed potions and ointments and dressings, and told the order to apply them in. While Pac works on Philza’s legs - the more extensive of the burns, with more of them deeper in what can only have been lava - Fit takes one of his arms.

He’s treated burns before, even extensive ones. Not usually with this many things, but he knows what he’s doing.

When the first of the potions is applied, Philza visibly flinches. His eyes, still wide, flicker between both of them, and then to the door - relaxing noticeably when he spies his sleeping children.

“Sorry it stings,” Pac smiles at Philza, and Fit can see how shaky it is.

“It’s fine, mate,” Philza’s voice is a bit drifty, but the surprise of the treatment seems to have drawn him back. All the way to full sentences, too. “Just means I still have feeling.”

… Fit might understand that sentiment, but he’s not exactly thrilled about it.

“Only you, Phil,” and his voice is more affectionate than he means it to be.

Philza turns and glares at him, and Fit swallows a laugh at how ridiculous he looks.

“You have said that before,” Pac points out, though it takes Fit a moment to realise it’s directed at him. “It /is/ true. Still hurts, though.”

Philza adjusts his position slightly, and Fit concludes that it must be the potions actually working that keeps him so present when he was spaced out so badly before. “Don’t worry, I’ve survived worse.”

Fit thinks of his friend knee-deep in lava, without the right protections, miles from home and alone in the Nether, living in a world where a single death means you’re gone forever.

He shudders, and hates it, and it really is not helping his fear.

“You know that’s not actually reassuring, right?” he tries to joke.

He needs to leave this ointment for a little bit. Fit shifts from working on the right arm to the left.

Philza shrugs in reply, but his throat catches. Pac is already bolting up to help and Fit reaching to support his back by the end of the stuttered breath. Philza manages to avoid the coughing fit, though, taking a few deep breaths of the oxygen and settling his lungs.

Once he has, he says whatever he meant to say. He keeps his voice quiet, and the hoarseness is still apparent, but at least Philza manages to avoid the breaking this time. “I do appreciate the help, guys, but I have fallen in lava and been fine before. Didn’t even have bandages then.”

That statement only serves to make the imagined scenarios worse. Fit tries to glare at his friend, only to soften when he sees just how exhausted the man looks.

He can’t win against his friends. He never has been able to.

“I get it,” Pac replies for him, deft fingers now bandaging Philza’s legs. “We didn’t either. But… It will heal better. Faster, cleaner, less infection risk.”

Fit nods along to Pac’s words, and uses the time to gather himself. Philza’s at least chatting, now; it’s easier to suppress the terror.

“Don’t you want us to care about you, Phil?” Fit reaches over with one hand, squeezing his shoulder like he always does when trying to give comfort. The idea of it actually hurts, now he’s vocalising it. “Are you saying you won’t let us worry? Don’t want us to care?”

They see Philza try to reply. This time, the stuttered breaths do turn into a coughing fit. He pulls the mask up to spit out the mucus, but holds it close, still trying to use that air. It doesn’t stop with one cough, or with two; Pac reaches up from his feet, resting Philza’s head against one shoulder as he loops arms around his back. Fit leans down, rubbing circles and hoping they help.

It keeps going and going, and Fit sees his own terror reflected in Pac’s eyes. He’s about to resort to screaming for Cucurucho when the coughs finally cease, Philza’s body weak and trembling from the exertion.

Gently they ease him back into the chair. Fit fixes the mask back into place, while Pac clearly frets about something in his mind.

Even Philza seems to notice that, his eyes shifting to watch Pac.

It breaks the seal.

“How, ah, bird are you?” Pac clearly doesn’t know if that’s a polite thing to ask, and, honestly, Fit has no idea either. He can only shrug in reply to the unspoken question. “I don’t know crows, but…”

Philza takes another moment or two, chest heaving but at a much slower pace than before, “not sure, sorry, I just live like this.”

The reason why Pac asks suddenly clicks - canaries in a coal mine, but all birds are more vulnerable to smoke than humans. Their respiratory systems just being weaker to it.

At least Fit can reassure that one.

“We’ve run through a fire together before,” he says, skimming over the terror of that event too in his mind. “If he took the smoke worse than me, it wasn’t enough to notice.”

Pac may as well collapse in a heap on the floor for all the relief in his eyes - he doesn’t, but it seems a close-born thing. “Still… you really need a hospital.”

It’s muttered, it’s quiet, it’s been said before, but it’s unfortunately very true.

Fit can see the laugh growing on Philza’s face, and also how he struggles to hold it in.

“Welcome to the island, Pac,” Philza manages to say instead. “You read an out of date medical textbook ten years ago, and it makes you about the best we’ve got.”

“It was a biochemistry book,” Pac corrects, and it either explains a lot or nothing at all. “And some websites. I’ve practiced on Mike, though. We both set many things on fire.”

Philza cannot escape an amused snort this time, but it clearly messes with him enough to fuck his breathing once again. Fit keeps an eye on it as he finishes treating his arms, and sees Pac doing the same with his legs.

They drop the topic to work, using each other as a support they might not even really have.

Once the bandages are all in place and Philza seems to be doing better… Well there’s a goat in the room, isn’t there? Because someone set Philza on fire, using lava Fit couldn’t even see.

“Phil…” he isn’t sure how to phrase it but it needs to be said. “I have some idea, but… what did you see?”

“Not a lot,” Philza answers willingly enough, though he twitches as he does. Fit places a hand over the back of his neck, and hopes it’s reassuring. “Kinda like the other two. The bunker was on fire, there was a trail to a book and some items and pictures. Used fire res, but I only had the one… Ran out about when you arrived.”

That gives them a timescale for just how long, at least - fire res offers some smoke protection, so… But then, perhaps he was breathing it in before he awoke or used the potion, too.

“And the book?” he asks, because it’s always the books that seem to scare his friend the most - it was the book Fit couldn’t see he was reading and rereading when he arrived, that probably stopped him leaving before the fire res ran out.

“What do you want me to say?” despite his weak voice, it’s clear Philza is frustrated by the whole thing. “It’s the Blaze Empress, but what does it matter?”

“Is she liable to kidnap you?” Fit asks first, because after the Ender King talk he /needs/ to know if this is another threat or not. “I know you were worried about…”

He glances at Pac, and realises he will actually have to explain that later. Now Pac’s been here and seen this and is kinda involved all over again.

“I don’t know, Fit,” Philza doesn’t seem as scared this time - still terrified, but more burnt out, more exhausted, more likely to give in than run. “In my dreams of her realm… lava is… people. And the quartress has a bee farm. In the /Nether/. It’s not… It can’t be… There’s no sense here.”

Fit and Pac share a look, and Pac agrees to take on the burden of speaking.

“You burnt from the lava,” he hesitantly offers. “I don’t think… you can hallucinate that?”

Yeah, no, Fit’s seen a lot of cases of mind over matter, and none of them result in that sort of happening.

They watch Philza struggle for a time. Pac starts putting the leftover bandages away, constantly glancing back to check on their shared friend. Philza’s lips move, and reassass, grimace and frown and just… don’t seem to know what to do.

The building distress is obvious, though.

Fit’s about to try soothe him again when Philza opens his mouth again. This time, it’s not just weak - they can hear genuine vulnerability, and the first hints of terrified sobs.

“If she’s real, the war is real. She… She can reshape reality, but the Ender King can steal it. /Has/ stolen it,” Philza stops for air, tears trying to streak down his face. “Entire swathes just… gone. In the blink of an eye. He did it to her… the quartress… hangs in a void… I- I can’t- They’re fighting over me now, Fit, they fought over the world and now they’re fighting over me and there’s nothing I can do about it. There’s… There’s not going to be a world /left/, Fit, not if they fight again! If… If they come, if they take me… Don’t try to stop them, don’t come after me - /please/, Just…”

Philza glances at his children. The sobs break his speech, but it’s so obvious what he means.

“Oh Phil…” Pac whispers, barely audible.

“Of course,” Fit promises - at least to looking after Chayanne and Tallulah. He’ll never promise to never try rescue a friend, not if he sees the option.

The sobs continue, and there’s nothing either of them can really do.

“I-” Philza breaks through them to try to talk, turning desperate eyes on Fit. “I’m scared- I- don’t… I-”

Fit lets the air entirely out of his lungs, and leans over to hug his friend. It’s awkward and it’s difficult, but they manage all the same. He hopes its comforting - Philza presses hard against his chest - because it’s all he can do.

Pac scrambles up onto the arm of the chair, then hesitantly leans over. He presses his weight to Philza’s back, and wraps his arms around his front.

Together they hold him as he sobs, hoping it’ll be soothing enough to avoid another coughing fit.

It isn’t.

This one isn’t as bad as the last, but it’s still terrifying. Fit does his best to soothe in tongue clicks, while Pac rubs his back and begs him to breathe.

Sobs bubble harder into the coughs, eventually winning back over.

“You need to calm down,” Fit says - not because crying is terrible, but because it’s causing his friend to choke. “Please, Phil, you need to calm down.”

Philza doesn’t. He keeps crying and crying and crying, shaking and terrified and seeming so small where he’s trying to curl in the chair.

There’s no chance to ask him about it, either; the tears have to end eventually, but they only cease as he drifts off to sleep.

Fit gives him a moment, checking that, and turns to Pac.

“He cried himself out,” he whispers. “Do we need to wake him up?”

Pac hesitates, clearly trying to remember. Eventually he shakes his head, “put him on the bed. We just…keep an eye on him.”

“Alright. Can you get the oxygen?”

It’s easy enough to move him to the bed, far easier than carrying Philza to the pool in the first instance. Pac moves various bits of equipment around them, clearing the path and making sure the tube on the mask doesn’t tug, the last one being to pull down the sheets.

Philza is very definitely asleep by the time he’s laying on them. Pac sets up a little more stuff, pushing fluids into his veins and tracing his heartbeat just in case, but there’s only so much he knows how to do. Roier knows more - did more for Forever - but Roier is missing, and Pac’s knowledge is from scientific testing, not medical.

Once Pac is done fiddling, Fit tucks the blankets around his friend. He’s led to a pair of chairs positioned to watch both Philza and the children, and collapse into them.

“Well, fuck,” Fit says, because he really has no other words for the situation.

“Will he be okay?” Pac replies, glance flittering between Fit, Philza, and the sleeping children.

“You’re the closer to an expert than me.” Fit drapes an arm over his eyes, trying to hide from the very bright lighting.

“The burns were a lot, but didn’t have time to get very bad. His breathing is worrying but it’s, ah, improving. I want to do more, Fit, but I don’t know what to do,” Pac shuffles in his chair. “I am not trained for this. But… I meant… in his brain. Will he be okay in his brain?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it,” Fit frowns. “The shit he sees is definitely real, but it’s not the same real so he’s still going to be left doubting it all. And Philza does /not/ handle doubt.”

“The same real?” Fit peaks out under his arm, and sees confusion writ on Pac’s face.

“Yeah,” he frowns himself. “The lava? I couldn’t see it, even as it was burning him. Hell I was standing on the same floor he tried to walk on. It was a brainfuck - he fell through the floor into the lava, but it was still there.”

“Like BadBoy’s ghost blocks?”

“Not really,” Fit, still not sure what he saw, struggles to explain. “Or, kinda? But like the ghost block could also have lava inside it. The lava and the floorboards were in the same place, just you sink in lava.”

Pac pulls a long series of faces, clearly struggling with the concept. After a bit, he clicks, “more like… hiding cables for storage?”

“Maybe?” Fit doesn’t really know a lot about that. “Whatever it was, it was terrifying. And the beings contacting him? Being powerful enough to do /that/? He asked me not to intervene if he gets kidnapped, but I don’t even know if I could!”

Pac scoots a little closer, leaning over the arm of the chair to rest on Fit’s shoulder. Fit reaches up, entangling a hand into his hair. “You’d try.”

“Damn right I would,” because of course Fit would. They might all be as good as powerless here, their actions having even less meaning than in the Wasteland, but he’s still going to /try. Good friends are hard to come by, and he’s not going to let some extra-dimensional fuckery steal one of his away.

Not if he has a choice, anyway.

“It’s just…” Fuck, Fit has to tell Pac, doesn’t he? “Does the name the Ender King mean anything to you?”

Fit watches Pac think very hard about the question, focus and concentration mixing into one. After a few minutes he looks back at Fit, “like… Enderman? But a king?”

“I guess?” Fit shrugs a bit. “Phil did say he’d have no idea if he were here - there’s no marks of him, but he mostly exists in another realm.”

“No, then,” Pac shakes his head a little. “Just… that. Phil said something?”

“Yeah, few weeks back,” Fit pulls a face. “With the egg shoes? It was when he called me off that day.”

Pac nods, “the shoes were cute.”

“They were,” Fit smiles a bit at the happier memory. “But Phil… Chayanne and Tallulah were with him, and I swear its only that that stopped him having a panic attack. He’d had that other message - the one you were there for? That scared him, but the second one /terrified/ him. Was promising Chayanne and Tallulah he’d always get back to him, to behave if he was kidnapped, laugh-sobbing when Chayanne promised to kill whatever scared him, the works.”

“And it was the Ender King? He mentioned it today, too.”

“Yeah…” Fit trails off, unsure what else to say.

There’s quiet for a moment, before Pac speaks up again, “how did Phil, er, how does Phil know them?”

Fit takes a deep breath, trying both to remember and work it out. “He /says/ it’s from his dreams. He dreams of living in another world, really consistently, really vividly, and these… entities are its rulers. He doesn’t remember all of them, though, it’s still just a dream.“

“Memories, maybe?” Pac asks. “Does he have amnesia too?”

“Maybe?” Fit frowns. “He remembers shit with me well enough, but I don’t remember enough about the rest to compare. Could be the Feds just stole part of them.”

“Which means we all might have all-powerful supervillians after us,” Pac’s eyes are a bit wide.

“And who would even be after you?” Fit laughs, already knowing who is after him.

“I am an international criminal wanted in five countries,” Pac mocks some offence. “Entire governments want me dead!”

They can both only hold it for a moment before descending into giggles. It takes a few moments to recover, their foreheads pressed together.

“The Blaze Empress sounds… fiery,” Pac muses, once he has recovered. “And Endermen hate water. Maybe he should make an underwater safe zone? Just in case.”

“We can suggest it once he’s feeling better,” Fit promises. “Knowing Phil, he’s already got one hidden away somewhere, he just hasn’t thought of it.”

Pac might be the least paranoid of the three of them, but that really is not saying much. Fit can already see the calculations running, and so gently pokes his nose. There’s a jolt of surprise, and a soft smile. “Fit?”

“Thanks for your help,” Fit says, trying his best to be genuine. “Sorry about the night… We can talk more in the morning, and rearrange to another time?”

“Philza is important,” Pac shrugs. “We can adjust.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’ve done the same for Mike,” Pac’s voice is a bit soft.

There’s not much Fit can say to that. Instead he just moves on.

“Do you want to sleep first, or shall I?”

Pac glances at Philza, then the time, “you sleep first? There’s more likely to be problems earlier.”

“Alright,” Fit doesn’t want to leave either of them, but they all need sleep. “Wake me in a few hours, okay?”

Pac nods, and shoos him off.

There’s too much to talk about in the morning - Fit already knows they never will finish the conversation, not even if Philza is stolen from their watch and tormented by gods from another realm.

It’s fine, though, it’ll be fine.

He lays awake, failing to think of a solution, listening to Pac watch low-volume Brazilian romance films until his own dreams steal him away.

[embarrassedanon]

Bare on the Bus

Carlos was fed up with the indignities of being the rugby team’s “equipment manager.” Having slept through the job fair after an all nighter, this glorified towel boy role was the only work-study option left that helped him maintain his scholarship.

He loathed the endless practices and the jockstraps and musky towels lobbed at him in the locker room. The guys on the team treated him like he didn't exist. They were all too happy to seem him degraded as he was forced to clean up after them. He didn't come to university for this, he longed to be in the lab.

On one of his few off days he developed a plan to get at back at the guys. Carlos had been tinkering with some nanobot prototypes since he got to campus and by the time the end of the rugby season approached he knew they were ready to execute his master plan.

The team was being bussed downtown to a banquet at a hotel ballroom. The team was dressed to the nines and somehow the task of laundering their suits fell to Carlos. Of course today he didn't mind the grunt work, mixed in with the copious loads of laundry were millions of indestructible microscopic robots ready to eat through their clothing at a moments notice.

When the coach threw in his suit as a last minute addition Carlos was too happy to oblige.

When they were a comfortable distance from campus, and Carlos was certain the bus driver wouldn't turn around, the wheels were in motion.

Showtime!

As Carlos activated his robot army he noticed the jovial tone in the bus falter a bit as many of the athletes felt a strange itchiness take hold. It only took a few minutes for that falter to turn into a full panic. Soon large patches of skin began appearing through suit pants and sports coats.

"Bro what's happening?"

"Dude I can see your entire back!"

"Man your thighs are totally exposed!"

Carlos laughed to himself as the guys who wouldn't even give him the time of day were reduced to hysterical messes. Most of the bus now found themself clad only in their underwear.

Coach lumbered out of his seat towards the back of the bus in a pair of too-tight Ralph-Lauren briefs that left a bit of his butt cheeks exposed. Several of the guys on the team were snickering at his exposure, even though in the aisle many of them would be equally exposed.

"Bus driver we've got to go back to campus!" he implored.

"No can do Coach, traffic is a nightmare, and I'm off at the top of the hour, it's a union thing!"

"Well you can't expect my guys to go to the gala like this, they're practically naked."

"Not my problem."

"Hey, show some respect, I've won three national championships for this school you can't talk to me like that!" The coach fumed.

"I'm showing you as much respect as someone whose ball slipped out of his tightey-whities deserves." This garnered a big laugh from the team as the coach sheepishly readjusted himself and returned to the aisle with a incandescent blush.

Carlos could see the coach and the few smarter members of the team starting to panic as they rounded the corner just a few blocks from the venue. Time for phase two! The laughter was once again cut off, this time by more decidedly panicked noises as the nanobots began eating away at boxers, briefs, and jockstraps galore.

Faster than the first initial stripping, almost everyone on the bus was naked. Too absorbed in their own nudity, none of them even noticed Carlos fully dressed at the front of the bus.

These guys had all seen one another naked in the locker room, but they were so caught off guard this felt totally different. Their hands kept vacillating between covering their dicks and their asses. They scurried around the bus in an humiliated frenzy.

As the bus reached a hard stop several of the guys up in the aisle ran into one another, faces collided with asses and asses collided with dicks.

"Alright, I'm off in 5 minutes, every body off the bus! Someone will be here to get you in 3 hours."

The team, terrified of their newly realized fate, scrambled to the back of the bus to hunker down and resist getting off the bus.

“Have it your way then,” the bus driver said with a wink to Carlos as he pressed the button to open the emergency exit at the back of the bus exposing the team to everyone on the street.

[ey-there-little-guy]

hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you

Chapter 2 of 2: Yellow lillies - gratitude ; happiness

Ranboo was hurt, caught, but... not trapped. That's not usual in their experience, and they almost decide to stay. But, Tubbo wanted them to leave. So they do. (Unless?)

words: 3,742

the second chapter is here!! finally!! thank you for your patience everyone :D

Ranboo has a lot more thinking going on than Tubbo did, much more, you could even say too much. - cw: mentioned past captivity, referenced loss of autonomy, self-loathing, brief panic attack. tell me if I missed something! -

Ranboo is ecstatic to be back in the walls. Their arm is healed, they're free, they're on their way back to their home, really they should be the most overjoyed borrower alive right now.

But oh, who are they kidding? Ranboo hasn't even made it through the walls enough to leave Tubbo's flat yet, barely left his sight, and they already miss the human.

They know they shouldn't, humans are dangerous, powerful, and the rules to stay away from them are there for borrower's safety just as much as their secrecy. Ranboo is very aware of that, has learned the hard way that getting attached to humans is bad and only leads to pain, and yet...

Ranboo wants to say that Tubbo is different.

Over the time Ranboo spent with Tubbo, he was nothing but gentle with the borrower, something Ranboo previously had been led to believe was too impossible a task for humans. Tubbo never slammed doors, or scooped Ranboo up without warning, or held them too tight, or ignored what they said, or trapped them, and above all he had been nice. Sure there were some adjustments at the start, but the fact Tubbo adjusted anything at all for Ranboo's comfort meant more than they could say.

It'd been the most safe they've felt in a long time, even when their mind screamed at them this could only go wrong, wrong, wrong, they tried to think otherwise and let themself live in the moment.

Those moments were often lounging on a pillow with graphite and paper while Tubbo did work on his laptop, and curling into the warmth Tubbo's hands offered while a human heartbeat reverberated through them, and watching Tubbo fall into peels of laughter at something Ranboo said, his deep eye bags less noticeable when scrunched in a grin, sometimes burying the expression in his arms if they were both sat at the table; it'd shake their footing, but it wouldn't cause fright like usual, quite the opposite actually.

So yes, Ranboo wants to say that Tubbo is different.

Even before they fully realized that though, there were some nights when Ranboo woke up with wisps of nightmares and flashes of green in their mind and thought, if Tubbo were to keep them here would it be so bad? Would they fight it that much? What would Tubbo do with them if Ranboo presented the possibility? Was it something Tubbo thought about too?

Or is Ranboo the only one so painfully aware of how simple it'd be to twist their mind up in sweet words and throw it out for shattered promises? Is it just them, with a fragile mind and weakened will thinking these things that make their heartbeat stutter and hands shake?

They'd spend most of those nights arguing with themself. By morning they always decide they prefer having their own autonomy, their own independence, with no looming figure acting like a puppeteer, which is good, they know that.

It didn't stop them from wondering what it would be like if they just... stayed there, in the flat with Tubbo, Tubbo and his tired eyes and warm hands and dumb jokes and bright grins. They'd like that, if Tubbo stayed the same that is.

But it seems through all that, while Ranboo had thoughts of staying, Tubbo had been thinking of Ranboo leaving.

("That eager to get rid of me, huh?" They had asked, half-jokingly, but that other half... And Tubbo didn't say no, didn't say anything to imply staying was an option.)

Tubbo wanted them to leave.

At first their mind screamed it was a trick, a way to lure Ranboo into letting their guard down impossibly lower, but Tubbo sounded so sincere when he called Ranboo a friend, promised to never capture or trap or keep them, swore they could leave. He didn't raise a hand to stop them once, not even reflexively when Ranboo experimentally stepped back.

Tubbo stepped into the kitchen out of sight, Ranboo hesitated before dashing into the hole in the wall they still don't know the origin of. And nothing else happened.

Ranboo felt... Very mixed emotions. They were happy, yes, and relieved, and upset too. So upset, actually.

It hurts that Tubbo was so ready to set Ranboo on that shelf and move on with his life, considering they're supposed to be friends, but Ranboo also kinda gets it; Tubbo didn't ask for Ranboo to pop into his life, to live with him for months and carry them around all the time, they get it, the two can still be friends without literally living together, Ranboo only lives a floor down, it's not a big deal.

But a part of Ranboo had hoped, just a bit, that Tubbo would ask them to keep living in the flat. Even if it goes against pretty much every rule of borrowers, it's not like Ranboo hasn't broken those before, they'd be much more willing to again for Tubbo. They know it'd end differently now if they did, better, more equal, not a repeat of past mistakes.

A shame they only truly realized that in those last moments.

So instead, Ranboo walks across the wood inside the walls, a good length of string looped around their waist like a belt and the hook tied to one end stuck in a fold of their skirt pocket. Another sign Tubbo would've never been like Dream, he never suggested Ranboo hand their things over.

Ranboo shakes their head, trying to physically fling the thoughts from their mind. They're thinking too much, when they should be finding their way back to their home.

Calling that little space between floors 'home' feels wrong now. But they've already resolved to stop thinking, so they try not to mull it over. What's done is done and as all borrowers do Ranboo should be glad they're here and continue on. It doesn't make it true, but truth has always been a fickle thing in Ranboo's experience.

Distantly, outside the walls, probably a room or two over if Ranboo's hearing hasn't failed them, they hear a few creaking floorboards. Tubbo moving around the flat, going back to whatever his life was before they met.

The sounds are a distraction Ranboo clings to, focusing intently on even the minuscule ones instead of whatever hurt is resting in their chest tugging the dark shadows in their mind out of hiding. They continue walking, ears tuned into their own personal ambience. Creaking boards, a snore from the neighbor a floor down, even some distorted sounds of chatter from other more distant neighbors and a low rumble from some machine, or multiple, kitchen appliances or a washer and dryer most likely.

Ranboo remembers it astounded them when they learned how little humans actually hear going on around them, borrowers never exist in a moment of total silence, there's always something to hear unless a borrower has bad or no hearing. At least, Ranboo assumes so, they can't remember if the discussion of hearing has come up with any borrowers they crossed paths with.

The scrape of a drawer opening and shutting, ticking of a clock, TV commercial, thump of footsteps.

It's all very quiet, muffled and overlapping, not really overwhelming. Even if Ranboo's walk has slowed a little as a result of listening so closely, they make their way between the walls at a steady pace nonetheless.

Some bed springs squeak from Tubbo's flat, maybe the human wasn't kidding about getting some sleep? Ranboo knows they weren't about never seeing him sleep, so honestly it's probably a good thing if he does.

Laughter from somewhere above, a knock on a door, walking, walking, walking.

Stopping.

Clock, rumble, chatter, Ranboo's own breathing.

They wrap their arms around themself. Inside the walls is colder than Ranboo remembered. Tubbo's flat was warm, or... That's not quite right, it was a bit drafty to be honest, Ranboo would sleep with an entire human blanket most nights. But Tubbo made everything feel warm, Ranboo would like to feel that again.

That's probably selfish though, Tubbo was just being nice, he probably would've rather done something else with his time if Ranboo wasn't so pathetic as to get their own arm broken.

Ranboo breathes deeply, then exhales, letting their arms relax back to their sides. They don't need to be somewhere warm and cozy, they can live perfectly fine without those luxuries, they just have to get used to it again. If they really wanted and worked hard enough they could make a little cozy home themself, that can be a goal now that they're going back to living in the walls.

Tubbo wanted them to leave, so they will.

Clock, rumble, chatter, whimper—

Wait, whimper?

Ranboo's ears perk up on high alert, tail freezing mid-sway behind them.

Over the other miscellaneous sounds, closer than most, Ranboo swears they heard a sound that makes their gut churn.

They hear it again, a whine that comes and goes as whoever it's from tries to muffle it. They pinpoint the general direction of it easily and Ranboo honestly feels their heart crack when they realize it's coming from the flat they just left. Whining, crying, a near inaudible sniffle.

Ranboo's resolve shatters.

They turn on their heels to run back the way they came, nearly tripping over their tail in the process. Their ears remain tilted to pick up on the quiet sounds of human crying.

Ranboo shouldn't be doing this, Tubbo wants them to leave, go home, visit again later.

But he's crying, Ranboo has cried enough times themself to know what it sounds like to cry quietly. Tubbo has never, ever done that when Ranboo was around, so what happened? Did he get bad news? Did he get hurt in the handful of minutes Ranboo was gone? Did Ranboo somehow cause this? Oh, they would feel just horrible if they're the reason Tubbo is crying.

Ranboo skids to a stop before the hole in the wall, breathing a bit heavier than before.

Part of them pauses, they shouldn't go back so soon, they just left. But Tubbo said so himself, they're friends, what kind of friend would Ranboo be if they left knowing Tubbo was crying, of all possible things?

Ranboo exits the wall, returning to the shelf.

They spend little time unlooping their string from themself, jamming the hook into the edge of the shelf and letting it unfurl to the floor below, triple-checking it's secure before sliding down quickly. Ranboo isn't holding on as tightly as they usually would, landing harder than they meant to at the bottom, slight pain shooting up their legs causing them to cringe.

It seems their left arm is a bit out of practice after months in a splint. They probably should've expected that.

Ranboo leaves the string hanging, looking around the vast floor, before starting in the direction of Tubbo's room at a hurried pace. They catch themself unintentionally glancing up at the structures around them, it's almost surreal, they didn't realize how used to Tubbo carrying them between these middle distances they were until they're traveling back on their own two feet across them.

Not to say Tubbo didn't let Ranboo walk by themself, he did, especially in the beginning, Ranboo reminds themself of this. But like they said, somewhere along the way Ranboo just... began to see Tubbo as separate from others before him. Accepting those offers of a quite literal helping hand became easier.

Looking up, up, up at the door in front of them is strange, Ranboo remembers watching the doorknob be twisted open from the same height as it multiple times, and now it's out of reach high above them. Ranboo thinks they like this though, some part of them feels satisfied, they didn't realize they could miss this perspective of the world until now.

The quiet sniffles still pricking at their ears brings them back to the task at hand. Looking down, the door has a gap under it big enough that they can probably wiggle under, the floor is wooden on both sides so they won't get smelly carpet in their face either.

Ranboo does just that, laying on the ground and proceeding to slide under, head and shoulders brushing the underside of the door, if they tried to roll to one side or the other they doubt they could.

The restricted space causes some level of panic, but Ranboo knows all they have to do is keep pulling themself forward to get out on the other side.

It's going well. They're gonna make it through. They'll apologize to Tubbo for coming back, they just heard him crying and couldn't help it, ask what’s wrong or offer any kind of comfort, then probably apologize again because that's half of Ranboo's conversation skills, apologizing for nothing or everything, and oh gosh what if they just make it worse though Ranboo hadn't even thought of that—

And then they get stuck at the base of their tail under the door, causing all previous thoughts to leave because of the sudden spike of panic it causes.

It— logically, Ranboo is sure they can still just pull themself through, it'll hurt their tail for a second and then they'll be fine. But the panic is creeping up, bringing back bits of memories Ranboo wishes could've been easily forgotten and all they really want now is to get their tail unpinched and run.

They need to get out from under here, out out out before the weight increases on them.

Ranboo starts pushing themself back, that's the way out, they can't stay in this spot.

Their breathing is more hurried, too hurried they vaguely think, the flat has faded away to— somewhere else. There's someone chuckling, the shoe presses down one more time on their back before lifting and the second they're out from under it they curl into a ball on their side. They wrap their tail around, fumbling to grab the end and hold it even closer and painfully tight, away from easy grabbing, that's all the control they really have at this point.

He's saying something above them, they know it, but the words are unintelligible in Ranboo's panic, only the tone makes it through, it's light, almost friendly but so absolutely not, Ranboo knows this isn't going to end well.

But there's— there's nothing else, just the voice and the darkness behind Ranboo's eyelids and when did they close their eyes? Where are they? They're missing something, but the fear makes it impossible to grasp what.

...Eventually, finally, with nothing happening—no one grabbing— the panic starts to ebb into dazed confusion.

Bit by bit Ranboo becomes aware of their fast breathing and tries to focus on it, slowing it a little with every other successful inhale and exhale, everything else gradually coming back into focus.

They rub their eyes with one hand hoping it'll clear their vision, it wipes away tear tracks Ranboo doesn't recall crying.

It could've been minutes or hours they stayed there to pull themself together, remembering the present—Tubbo's flat, they were leaving, but they heard crying—and reaffirming that he is very far away from them even by human standards. Then with one heaving breath, Ranboo rolls over and sits up, tail still loosely in hand.

Gosh, they feel exhausted now.

And the crying from beyond the door has stopped.

Ranboo eyes the gap under the door. They were so close, they could've made it if they hadn't panicked. But Ranboo doesn't want to risk repeating whatever happened to cause that...

(Pressure on their back, tugging on their tail, pinning them down down and they can’t do anything they can’t get out they’re— )

(Don’t think about it. Stop thinking about it. Think of blankets and a strong heartbeat and a light weary voice.)

As much as they wish they could check on Tubbo, they're going to have to settle for just outside the door, aren’t they.

Stumbling to their feet and wiping away the last of their tears, Ranboo steps up to the door and presses an ear close, listening carefully. There’s breathing, slow and steady, and Ranboo concludes Tubbo has fallen asleep.

Seriously, how long had Ranboo been panicking? They feel half asleep themself, not to mention their hands are still jittery and their back aches.

They did absolutely nothing to help Tubbo and now they just feel like garbage. Not even the useful kind of garbage either, the kind of garbage even borrowers throw out.

Ranboo buries their face in their hands and yells, tail lashing at their shins. Stupid, this whole impulsive choice to come running back was stupid.

Running through the walls and across the floor for the first time in a while and that panic has them exhausted. They’ll have to climb up to the hole in the wall now, which is going to be even more work, and wow maybe Ranboo should’ve kept themself more active while with Tubbo if climbing up a rope a few feet seems like a big effort. On the other hand, it could also strain their just-healed arm, which Tubbo has been insistent about them being careful with for as long as Ranboo’s know him.

So... maybe they can just... spend the night? If they find a good spot to take a power nap, then wake up before Tubbo does, they can be out of here easily and then no one has to know any of this ever happened.

Yeah, that sounds fool-proof enough for even Ranboo to not mess up, they just need a quick rest. The living room should work, lots of nooks and crannies to tuck themself into there.

They start walking back the way they came, all the way into the living room and then to the couch, after looking around the room and deeming under it as an okay spot to rest. The couch is old, with a tear in the upholstery on the side that Ranboo has hid inside during a game of hide and seek or two, and sits half on a fuzzy yellow carpet that’s moderately clean smelling. One of the blankets Tubbo likes to curl up and watch TV with is also moments from sliding all the way off it, and Ranboo debates pulling it down fully to use as bedding, but decides if they do that they might sleep too long and miss their window to leave unnoticed.

There’s a dust bunny or five as well as some discarded socks and plastic wrappers under the couch, but all and all it could be much worse.

Before Ranboo finds a spot to lay on, they see an open book sitting out on the other side of the couch that draws their curiosity. They like books, okay? They certainly didn’t spend a good portion of their life learning to read more than the average borrower just to not read when a book or letter is in reach.

So out from under the other side of the couch they go, standing before the book and recognizing it as one Tubbo had been showing them yesterday. It’s a book on plants, mostly flowers, with pictures and diagrams and a few notes scribbled in the margins about symbolism for each. Ranboo doesn’t know why Tubbo has a book like this, it’s thick and Tubbo has admitted he doesn’t understand half the technical words the book uses, but it might be for the notes.

Whoever wrote the notes writes wobbly and with lots of space as long as it doesn’t go over the book’s print. The notes on symbolism are next to the plants, with an occasional line or two of clarification or elaboration between paragraphs of other information. It’s nice, it gives the book a personal touch and well-read feel Ranboo isn’t sure they’ve seen before.

The page the book is currently on is about a yellow flower with six petals curling outwards, a couple side-by-side pictures showing some variations with speckles of brown on the petals near the center or in other colors, the seeds sticking out on thin stems like whiskers.

They don’t bother reading the name of it, going straight to the symbolism next to the yellow picture.

“Happiness, remembrance, gratitude...” Ranboo mutters to themself. They wonder how the flower smells, it must be sweet with those meanings.

Ranboo takes a seat on the pages, reading over some of the book’s words, something about the flowers’ origins, best time for planting, and how much soil and water it’ll need. It nearly makes them doze off after another couple paragraphs.

They yawn, giving up on reading to look at the pictures more; deep red flowers, white flowers, white and pink ones, orange ones, all very pretty and nice to trace a finger over. Eventually they lay down on their stomach to get a closer look at the fibers of the pages making up the vibrant images.

Eventually, their eyes drift closed and Ranboo just breathes in the smell of books and dust as consciousness leaves.

///

(Later that night Tubbo will wake up and go to get a drink of water. He'll notice he left the living room light on, then a flower book open on the floor and, walking closer, the person fast asleep on its pages.

Ranboo will wake and fumble over their words, backtracking and rephrasing, hesitating to say why exactly they came back. Tubbo will not push the subject, still half-asleep he’ll say.

Instead, Ranboo will ask if they can spend the night. Tubbo will smile and say of course just a bit too quickly to be casual, but too genuinely to be offered out of pity.

Tubbo’s hands will be warm and Ranboo will melt into the warmth like butter, drawing a laugh from the human.

Maybe they can blame it on sleep deprivation, or their own twisting thoughts, but Ranboo grabs Tubbo’s words like a promise and entertains the idea that maybe Tubbo doesn’t mind their presence, that the fondness in his laughter is real.

And a week later Tubbo seems to still have no intention of taking back his half-asleep agreement. Ranboo still has yet to spend the night anywhere else.

If in that time Tubbo turns the outlet next to his bed into an entrance to the walls and Ranboo moves their old things closer to it, neither is saying anything against it.

Ranboo’s thoughts seem a little more believable.)

-

Lilies and daisies can also both mean 'new beginnings', depending on your source. I thought that fit quite nicely for this fic. :D

[Chapter 1: Daisies] | [AO3 link]

Again, if you read this far a like or reblog is super appreciated! thank you! ^-^

[neoninky]

TWST Fanfic "Her Lost Voice": Chapter 18

Well readers we have reached the final two chapters of "Her Lost Voice" (this one being the part 1 to the finale)

I hope you have enjoyed either reading this story for the first time or revisiting it again.

As of now, I have the beginnings of a Diasomnia centered fic in the works but I am also working on my own original material as well. So with that said, I do not have an exact release date (or even a title now that I think of it lol) for Petra's story with the Diasomnia clan just yet.

Definitely stay tuned, however, as I will be posting all/any tidbits here! Also feel free to drop me a message in my inbox any time whether it's about my Sacred Crown series, TWST in general, or if you just have a question/request. I'm game for any of those options lol.

Inky's Links: AO3 : Masterlist : (Third Story coming soonish)

Chapter 18: Part of This World (Part 1)

She used to have dreams night after night about that storm, that terrible storm that changed her life entirely. It was always a rush of sound, brief fragments of harsh light, followed by the freezing cold blackness pressing down on her as the waves tossed her small child body about in their fury. But there was always a quiet moment of relief as a kind hand pulled her head above water. She never saw a face nor did she ever hear a voice: just that warm touch and a soft melody calling to her as she lay barely conscious on the shore. Sometimes there were more or fewer pieces in her dreams, but now as she stood face to face with this siren in all of her warmth and compassion, Elise knew it had to be...

"It was you...?" Part of her feared this was some cruel prank. Junonia's smile didn't falter for a moment. Even when she had tears streaming down her face.

"My little Cowrie was already missing and I was afraid she got caught up in the storm somewhere. Instead, I came across that terrible shipwreck and I saw you, struggling in the water. You were so young...you reminded me of my girls. Thank you so much for taking care of them all these years." 

A quiet sob bubbled out of Elise as she shakily tried to keep her own tears from falling, "Honestly they took more care of me than the other way around," Elise sniffled before noticing the chain around Junonia's tail and snapping back into clarity, "B-But how...why are you here now? And who did this to you?"

Azul released Elise's hand before dipping into the shallow water to get a closer look at the chain itself. His tentacles slowly went to touch it. When nothing happened he was confused, "It seems like just an ordinary chain. I don't mean to be rude, Mrs. Cerith, but even a weak eel would be able to break this with ease." 

The siren chuckled bitterly, "The chain is just a formality, my dears. I'm bound to stay put because of my dear boy's commitment."

"Do you mean Indigo?" Elise stepped into the water to speak in closer proximity to her savior.

The siren's eyes lit up, "You know my Indigo as well?" 

"We want to help him and you, Mrs. Cerith," Azul circled around the two women to make sure the coast was clear, "An ally of yours told us he was in trouble." 

Junonia gasped when Elise took her now repaired moon necklace from her pocket, "He had this with him. Don't worry, Spindle is safe and unharmed." 

"Oh thank goodness," Junonia whispered, overwhelmed with relief, "that poor boy, I feared the worst after he tried to help me escape-"

She froze with a start as they heard approaching voices. It sounded like arguing. Junonia's face turned serious as she closed Elise's hand back over her moon necklace, "You two need to leave. Before he comes back. Don't let him see you or that."

Elise began to panic as Azul grabbed her hand once again, "We aren't going to abandon you, Junonia. I promise." 

In seconds, as Azul pulled her deeper into the water, Elise put the vial of potion to her lips and quickly drank. The pair submerged into the murky water as Azul jetted them both away from the trees. Moments later there was a flash from the middle of the lake's surface. Junonia quickly shot off a couple of enchantments to spread flowers over the surrounding trees as a cover. The showier the better. The footfalls paused just behind her, greeting the trapped siren with a slimy nonchalance as Indigo's remaining brothers sniffed about the area suspiciously.

"It seems a bit late in the season for flowers, Mistress. A lovely display nonetheless."

Her once welcoming gaze turned steely cold as she glared over her shoulder at the bastard. Even now that he had legs, he still repulsed her.

"What do you expect me to do here, Proteus? Just sit around like some garden ornament?" Junonia spat, "I came to see my children. Yet you chain me up and leave me here like some stray animal!"

Human Proteus was just as disgustingly smug as Merman Proteus. Only now he was more mobile than she was, "Patience, my dear lady. I simply thought you could use some fresh air before the heartfelt reunion. I could be far less generous if you prefer," Proteus chuckled, "Besides, this is well within the agreement your son made to ensure your safety and freedom. Well...limited freedom. Can't have you running off now, can we?"

The foul man reached for a lock of Junonia's hair that had fallen across her shoulder only to have his hand swiftly rebuked, "I understand the conditions, Proteus. Does it look like I'm trying to escape?" she spat, "Where is my son? If I cannot see my girls, at least let me speak to your boss." 

The ray scoffed dryly, making the two trained brothers laugh along with him, "My 'boss' she says! How adorable, how proud you must feel even now, Mistress Junonia. All because we've allowed you to believe for the first time in your miserable state that you have some semblance of power-" 

Proteus groaned as the siren's tail whipped across his face with a hard smack, breaking the chain that bound it and his egotistical monologue. Junonia's arms were held tight by her stepsons after they dove into the water to keep her from swimming away. For a moment, Proteus was frazzled to the point of anger, "Ha...stubborn as always. You haughty bitch, I'll dry you out like the piece of bargain meat you are-"

In a snap of blood-red rage, Proteus lunged forward to grab Junonia by the throat before he was rapidly strong-armed and thrown on the ground. His copper-red eyes were wide with a  mixture of madness and amusement in contrast to the fury that burned in Indigo's. The two younger eels quickly released Junonia before diving into the water to hide from their big brother's wrath.

"Ah, Master Seven-"

"SHUT IT," He barked and slammed a foot into Proteus' chest holding him in place, "You will not touch her, Luna, or Cowrie. You will not speak to any of them nor will you threaten them. THOSE are the terms we agreed upon. And that's Don Cerith to you."

The new Don drove his heel into the man's chest until he almost heard his ribcage creak underneath him. Proteus coughed out some weak compliance, the unhinged grin still on his face, "O-Of course, Don Cerith. Forgive my trespasses. But do remember, you're wearing a golden collar, not a crown. I'd hate to inform your father that maybe more discipline is in order for his new heir..." 

Indigo's gaze returned to its stoic default as he removed his foot from the sneering man's chest, "Leave me with my mother for five minutes. If you don't trust me, then leave my brothers here to stand guard...if they even have the backbone to do it properly."

His two brothers were peeking out of the water like overgrown slugs quivering in the mud. Indigo didn't wait for the man to answer before turning to apologize and comfort his mother, stomping past his cowardly siblings. Proteus made his exit into the shadows with a venomous gaze at the young boss' back. Once he straightened himself out, the bitter ray removed two bottles from his jacket and held them up threateningly for the shaking eels to see, "You heard him, boys. Stay put. I will let your father know how things are going." 

-

Azul was temporarily blinded by the sudden flash of light and the sheer force of the magic sent him tumbling straight into the dirt of the lakebed. He felt panic rattle all through him as he hurried to clear his vision. 

"Elise?!" he searched about until he saw a form sinking to the ground a few feet away. The octopus swam through the cloudy waters to the dark mass of that seemed to be morphing before him. His breath caught as the figure suddenly rose up and turned towards him, facing him with familiar, bright turquoise eyes. She could breathe, she could feel every sense heightened as it had before, and her tentacles seemed to unfurl like iridescent vines all around her. Azul's face was painted over in astonishment, "E-Elise...?"

"Yes, Azul," she sobbed happily, brushing ink-filled tears away. The two octopus lovers suddenly tangled together as Azul cried out in absolute joy and threw his arms to embrace her completely. They both felt absolutely electric as they locked lips, tentacles intertwining affectionately. Azul felt his senses become intoxicated as Elise's magical aura grew and pulsed under each fingertip, each physical connection they shared. He nearly forgot how to breathe in his bliss.

"You are a wonder!" He suddenly blurted out as he continued to hold her and kiss her face.

The former human was overcome with too many feelings to list, "Shouldn't I be telling you that?! You did it, Azul!" 

Azul suddenly felt a swell of pride go straight to his head, "But of course! Did you have any doubt, my darling? I said I would find a way and I did...with some help naturally but-"

Elise stopped the beginnings of a ramble with another, deeper kiss. Azul's face grew hot instantly as her expression glowed for him, "I love you, Azul Ashengrotto. I've missed you so much..." 

His mind went into overdrive so fast that he literally had to smack a tentacle over his mouth to stop himself from proposing marriage right then and there. His princess giggled at how flushed his face just before realizing they had an audience.

"Ah...Azul," she lowered her voice with a bashful grin, "Don't freak out but...I think they saw the whole thing..."

Azul quickly looked over his shoulder as one of Elise's tentacles pointed behind him. Nonchalantly waving at him as they sat comfortably amongst some kelp was none other than the Leech brothers. 

"Don't stop on our account, Azul," Jade's grin was merciless, "We'd feel terrible for interrupting such a tender moment."

Floyd's tail was swaying back and forth with feline-like mischief, "Hey hey, you gonna leave Octi-chan hanging like that??"

The twins just giggled amongst themselves as Azul began to sputter ink. He was the deepest shade of purple they had ever seen!

"Honestly, I can't have TEN minutes without you-ugh nevermind!" he groaned before clearing his throat and turning back to Elise, who was trying her best not to start laughing at the whole scene, "Darling, I am absolutely thrilled to have you by my side again. I cannot tell you how complete I feel with you here...mostly because we were so rudely interrupted!" He shouted towards the snarky twins. Elise ran her delicate fingers through his silvery locks, bringing him some ease before smiling at the brothers. Before she could say a word, however, two more eels suddenly plunged in the water behind her and she gave out a squeal.

"Luna! Cowrie!" 

As annoyed as Azul wanted to be, seeing his love reunited with her beloved Cerith sisters was nothing short of heartwarming. Elise wrapped her arms and delighted tentacles around both girls in a tight bushel of hugs. Cowrie nuzzled her cheek against Elise's with a happy giggle, "Welcome back, Ellie!!" 

The girls' excited chatter was going a mile a minute as the twins snuck up to Azul and started to poke fun at him.  Elise noticed her beau's frustration rising and whispered something to the sisters. As happy as she was to be properly reunited with everyone...now was not the time for everyone. The eelmaids had a knowing look in their eyes as they left her side and around to their mates who they immediately started snuggling up to. The brothers were too distracted to notice how the girls had blocked them from Azul.  

"Floyd, honey..." Luna sighed as she left a trail of tender kisses along Floyd's jawline.

"Jay Jay~" Cowrie purred affectionately as she nuzzled her face into Jade's broad chest.

Any teasing mischief the brothers had in mind for Azul was instantly abandoned as they were reeled in by their flirtatious siren mates. The sisters had different charms: Luna was naturally sultry, warm, and alluring whereas Cowrie was sweet, playful and a bit teasing like a kitten. And each sister had the Leech brothers' zeroed in and ready to eat up every morsel of affection they had to offer without question. 

"Indigo has arranged a meeting at the resort you boys are staying at in town," Luna called out to everyone though her loving gaze never left Floyd as she teased his ear fins, "But we have some time until then. Why not make the most of it...I'd hate to waste another precious moment. Right, honey?" she cooed, batting her long lashes at her lovesick beau. 

"Jaaade..." Cowrie cutely whined up at him with a flushed pout, using his full name against him, "We barely had any time together at all! It's not fair for you to keep me waiting like that..." 

Hook, line, and sinker: the Leech Brothers were helpless and leaving the scene with their girls before they even knew what hit them. Azul was baffled and impressed as Elise drew his attention back to her, now that they were alone again, "You can always count on Luna and Cowrie to get the job done." 

Azul leaned back into the intimate privacy and tucked his face into the soft crook of Elise's neck with a sigh, "I love you too..." This made a bell-like laugh leave her throat. 

The high of their reunion began to sink back into reality when Elise looked over her shoulder toward where they had left Junonia. Azul knew what she was thinking. He could feel the quiet thrum of her heartbeat tell him everything he needed to know. Now that he knew for certain what came next, Azul just felt even more desperate to see things through to the end. But he had to be honest.

"I don't like this, Elise," his eyes were uneasy as he faced her properly, "I know we already discussed this ahead of time but-" 

She placed a gentle hand on his as he brought it to her cheek, "I know, Azul. But now it's no longer an option. I have to. I owe it to her. Please trust me?"

He ran his free hand through his wavy hair with a frustrated groan, "You know I do. Just be careful, please. I can only go so far with you and I hate that." 

She pressed her forehead to his with a sigh, holding him close as his presence anchored her, "It will be alright. I promise." 

-

The city outside of Sacred Crown Hall took up the majority of the island. It was a very lovely and curated town set on keeping its old-fashioned aesthetic, but that didn't stop the spread of hotels and the occasional resort popping up over time. The rest of the Night Raven and Royal Sword students that had come for the festival were staying in hotels closer to the campus. The Leech brothers, however, would be staying at a far more exclusive resort tucked away on the beach along with their parents. Normally this resort was very popular and booked out season after season. For this particular 'family event', however, the entire establishment had been booked by the Leeches and the Muraeni-Cerith families, each having their own wing to themselves. Better to keep any potential prying eyes away lest things get even more complicated. Azul and Elise were invited too by the Leechs since they were family by proxy. Judging from the overcompensating resort staff, it was clear that anyone in the know about their guests' true identities was handsomely paid to keep their mouths shut. 

An elegant hostess greeted the group of teenagers and directed them to the suite on the seventh floor. Jade, having been far more groomed than his brother for these situations, politely thanked the hostess and covertly slipped her a handsome tip. Just to keep things nice and neat, of course.

"Anyone else feel...weird about this?" Cowrie asked the rest of the elevator as she scooted closer to be in between Jade and her sister. Normally, she was pretty even-keeled but this whole situation had the younger Cerith on pins and needles.

Floyd scratched the back of his neck as he watched the floor numbers tick by, "Eh. Dad's been pretty tight-lipped but that's par for the course. He knows what he's doing."

"It's not Papa Leech I'm worried about..." Cowrie muttered. Luna wrapped her free arm around her younger sister and held her close. 

"Don't worry, Cowrie. Mother's been waiting to see you again. Everything will be just fine," Luna's smile was genuine so Cowrie didn't have any reason to doubt her. Across from the eel couples, Azul and Elise said nothing but held each other's hand firmly. The elevator stopped with a ding and the golden doors opened onto a large corridor lined with arched windows. At the end of the hall, standing outside the large double doors were Don Leech and Don Indigo Cerith. 

Even in human form, Don Leech looked intimidating in his deep charcoal double-breasted suit and the black leather gloves he wore on his hands. The fact that he didn't bother hiding his scars only added to the overall message: he was not a man to be messed with. In spite of all that, his normally grizzly expression softened when he saw his daughters-in-law. He would never admit it but he did have a soft spot for his girls. 

"Hello Father Leech," Luna greeted her father-in-law with a gentle smile and hug which he accepted without any hesitation. He grunted when his other daughter barrelled forward and hugged him with way more enthusiasm and far less grace.

"Papa Leeeeech~" Cowrie chimed, trying to hide her nerves. The Don felt her slight tremble but only wrapped a strong arm around her. 

"Hello, girls," the brief warmth in his deep voice evaporated as he laid eyes on his two sons, "Jade. Floyd. Eyes forward....and  Floyd, straighten yourself up, boy! You're seriously going to meet your mother-in-law looking like some bum?!" 

Floyd pouted and started to argue before Azul intervened, "Allow me, Don Leech sir." 

One flick of his magic pen and suddenly Floyd's uniform buttoned itself properly and an NRC tie nearly choked him as it tied itself in place. The eel snarled at the smug look on the octopus' face, knowing deep down this was revenge for earlier. Don Leech made some grunt of approval before turning things over to Indigo. 

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions," he said seeing the look on his sisters' faces, "I wish I could answer them for you but...I'm not at liberty to right now. Even so, I was able to negotiate this time for Mother to meet with you." He was speaking directly to his sisters but his tone was guarded, careful as he turned to open the doors. Azul silently nudged Jade before tilting his head towards the two adjoining doors outside the main room he was about to enter. Judging from Indigo's cautious air, it was evident that they weren't alone. Jade merely nodded as he kept his eyes forward as Luna and Cowrie entered the room. Jade and Floyd stayed in the doorway with their father to give the girls space while Azul and Elise stayed in the hallway. 

Luna took the lead, entering the elegant room with her focus on the woman facing the windows. Cowrie stayed close to her older sister, wary of any possible danger that may be waiting around every corner of that room, but she felt her whole body freeze when the woman's motherly eyes turned to her and Luna. It had been years since Cowrie had seen her but her human form, a woman in a sleek blue gown, shawl, and snow-white pearls, couldn't hide those kind eyes. Cowrie would never forget those eyes.

 Luna had seen her mother very briefly during her study with Madam Lorelei but it was merely a few minutes if that and they weren't actually able to get close to one another. It was more or less, a confirmation that her stepfather wasn't lying. A lump formed in her throat as she readily approached Junonia, arms open, "Mother!" 

Junonia held Luna to her like it was her dying wish, "My dear, my sweet Luna!" she sobbed, "Oh how I've missed you girls! But look at you!" Junonia wept as she held Luna's face, "You've grown into such a fine woman!" 

Cowrie stared wide-eyed, still as fawn as she watched her mother actually exist right in front of her. She completely forgot about everyone else in the room outside of her, her sister, and her mother. Junonia looked at her youngest with a heart so full it ached, "Cowrie, my jewel..." She slowly walked towards her, afraid that perhaps she had been forgotten, "I'm so sorry for being away for so long, my darling." 

At first, Cowrie seemed to tense as if getting ready to flee. Her mother smiled sadly, waves of guilt sinking into her, "I...I wouldn't blame you if you felt angry with me, Cowrie. I never wanted to leave you, Luna, and Indigo behind-"

She couldn't finish. She nearly collapsed on her knees with relief as Cowrie threw her arms around her mother without any word except a very soft, "M-Mama." 

From the doorway, Indigo sighed quietly with a faint grin. After a long moment of Junonia hugging her two daughters for the first time in years, Junonia finally noticed the other visitors with a hint of embarrassment. Luna quickly dried her eyes and introduced the twins, "Mother, this is Jade and Floyd Leech. They rescued and took care of Cowrie and me. And Floyd," Luna gave him a look that dripped with so much love it made him blush, "Floyd is my mate." 

Floyd shuffled across the room and greeted Junonia with boyish enthusiasm, "Hello Mama Cerith!"

Cowrie perked up as Jade followed his brother with his usual poised gait, "And Jay-er-Jade is mine! Or he...will be in the future." 

"It is an honor to finally meet you, Mrs. Cerith," Jade gave her a half bow along with a pleased grin. 

Junonia suddenly made the connection of the necklaces her daughters wore and smiled at the two boys, "It's wonderful to meet you both. I'm happy to see that the Leechs are far more amiable than we were led to believe," she looked past the boys and gave Roscoe Leech a grateful smile, knowing that he could have just as easily turned her daughters away, or worse.

From outside the room, Azul and Elise heard something stir from the connected room but the door leading right into the reunion swung open faster than they could blink.

"Well, well...it would seem your brother hasn't been completely honest with us, doesn't it boys?"

The cold voice made the sisters hiss as their pupils shrunk into near-feral slits. Junonia protectively shielded her daughters from the sudden trespasser. His unscuffed heels slowly clicked on the polished floor as he carefully entered, flanked by Proteus and his remaining sons: Don Muraeni stared at his wife and daughters with a calculating eye. Jade and Floyd stood to block Junonia and the girls from him but the Don barely noticed.

He drawled as he locked eyes with Indigo across the room, "Not that it matters much in the long run. Cowrie..." he turned his steeled gaze to the young eelmaid, "Nothing to say to your father? Especially after worrying me for so long?" 

Cowrie spat on his too-perfect shoes and snarled, "You used to starve me so I'd sneak into smaller spaces easier! You'd lock me away from Luna and let my brothers harass me if I didn't get you what you wanted! You let Proteus sick his sharks on me! Why should I give two shits about 'worrying' you?!"

Jade felt his blood boil hearing these terrible things but he kept his eyes forward just as his father ordered him to. Floyd had no problem bearing his teeth at the old Don, ready to pounce now that the enemy had a face. Muraeni spared the twins a glance, looking them over as one does a thoroughbred, "Your sons, Roscoe?" 

Don Leech didn't move from his spot by the door, "Jade, my heir, and Floyd. I wouldn't get too close. You saw what they did to those sharks of yours." 

His rival smirked at the memory, "Ah yes. I do appreciate the killer instinct. I'm sure they'll produce an even finer brood to connect our two houses. I must admit that I never expected this whole affair to become such a blessing. Although if there's anything I have learned...Proteus, our security could use some work."

"Indeed, sir. I'll see to it that our dear Don Cerith has the very best on staff," Proteus sneered at Indigo from where he stood, "Can't be too careful these days..."

"Good," Muraeni said curtly, "Now then. As touching as this reunion is, that's all the time we have."

Indigo snarled and marched over to his father, "This isn't what we agreed upon-"

"Is it not, my boy?" Muraeni's icy eyes pierced straight into Indigo, "I promised a meeting between my wife and our daughters and it happened. We have greater things to discuss here and I do not like keeping my precious assets on display like some charity auction. Proteus."

The ray removed a glass bottle from inside his jacket and unsealed it. As soon as the seal was broken Junonia doubled over and shrieked as she was shrunken back into a shriveled polyp and sucked into her glass prison. Proteus resealed the bottle with a satisfied grin as Luna cried out, "Haven't you ruined her life enough?!"

Her step-father tutted as he cruelly cooed to her, "Luna, my dear...I gave you and your mother purpose. Just as I gave Cowrie, Indigo, and all of my children purpose. As a unique siren, like your mother, do you understand just how precious, how rare you are?" Muraeni leaned in to look Luna directly in the eyes, ignoring the two boys trying to shield her, "I could have left her and you with that lowly Cerith fellow. You knew him as a father, a loving husband perhaps, but the reality was this: he was a desperate bottom feeder that took more than he could return. He was ruined. Nothing could have changed that. Had I not taken you into my home, you would've wasted away. But look at you now, dear girl, you are free. All thanks to your dear brother..."

The Don pulled away and clapped a firm hand on Indigo's shoulder as he began to circle him, "Junonia is my wife, my mate. She belongs to me, as is the law of the land in the Coral Sea no matter where you go... but you and your sister, well, your freedom was bought fair and square in the end," Indigo's face fell as his father chuckled, "But of course, he never told you, did he? So many secrets. I taught him well..."

The young leader shrugged his father's hand away from him, "You're just profiting off of blackmail!" 

Muraeni didn't even bat an eye at the accusation, "Profit is profit. The method is trivial. This is the foundation of business and survival, my boy. Don't worry, you'll learn very quickly. Wouldn't you agree, Roscoe?"

The surly Don Leech narrowed his eyes at his rival, "Agree to disagree, Muraeni..."

The sly eel turned back to his daughters, almost mocking Luna's pained expression and Cowrie's confusion, "Indigo made a deal. He will be my heir, taking his place as the head of the Muraeni household. In exchange, you girls will be free to live your lives as you see fit. And of course, Junonia will have more freedom as I see fit. I can't say that I was originally thrilled with his choice in a mate, however, I am impressed with the tenacity of the Leech family tree. I am confident that Indigo's sons, and their sons, and theirs after will ensure that my legacy will thrive. As the esteemed Don Leech witnessed himself, a deal was struck and honored of the boy's own free will..."

'Free' was a joke. Everyone in that room knew it. The former Don could spin it any which way to make it all legit and bind Indigo to his decision. Muraeni grinned, satisfied at the stunned silence surrounding him, "You girls will someday understand just how lucky you, your brother, and dear Junonia are. To have a purpose, to be protected, and valued for what you are, what you have become, instead of being traded or thrown away for something better..."

"Then let's make another deal."

The room's tense air was sliced through as everyone turned to Elise. She stood tall, sure, and laser-focused on the Don as she entered the room with Azul at her side.

"Make another deal with me. Release Junonia permanently and I'll use my magic for your clan's benefit only." 

Tagging: @nuitthegoddess @iscarlettappel @foxwitchaine @1ndigowitch @wysteriadelights @evieyouknow @ladyrosemoon @victoria1676 @aiimee9 @honey-milk-depresso @espada188 @feldya @marcepanna

[bronze-bell]

The snap of chalk is all too clear a sound to Aesop's ears, Victor's heart all too ferociously beating as the embalmer can feel it much too easily. As his eyes flick upward, as he catches even brief glances of Edgar and Frederick, he sees the painter in a similar state of fear. Maybe that's what gets him, the way he can't tell what will happen, only that everyone's scared and that means he probably should be too. He presses his side into Victor's, seeking any sort of comfort, any sort of reassurance. The postman must be able to feel his shaking breaths like this.

Frederick looks up, noticing the state of the two he is not currently standing next to. Oh god. He needs to get everyone to safety, if that can be managed. Lopsided footsteps take the letter and drop it into the mailbox, before he asks the other three if his room would be a tolerable place to stay for a while. He would have tapped his cane a few times as a signal, but he didn't have it on him. After all, he knew who he was coming for, and the distance was short enough he wouldn't need it.

Aesop seems quite willing to go back there, after last night, but Edgar hesitates. He understands, as it's a room the man hasn't entered before. He tells Edgar it of course isn't required, he simply wanted to have the option open. If he preferred to be somewhere else, that would be okay. Edgar says that of course he's coming with, in that indignant, snappy tone that makes Frederick wonder what other feelings lie beneath that statement.

As Frederick leads everyone to that place he didn't expect to be considered a sanctuary, Edgar trails behind. He is not a part of them. But they know. He just needs to see how much. He needs proof that these three will bother with their kindness even behind closed doors.

It is unsurprisingly hard to hyperventilate when your instinct response to fear is to play into an act that requires a tight lipped smile. He doesn't know when Edgar will look again, but being seen as a mess out in public would make his mental state much worse than it already is. So he smiles, politely, and is too focused on his mouth to notice how tears are already dripping down his face.

Aesop is shaking just like he is, and it's a little breath of comfort in the thick smoke that is his fear. Like this, they are whole. The details of the situation seem to flit in and out of his mind, muddled up and shaken about in panic until all the pieces of the puzzle are scattering away as he reaches for them, but at least if whatever's gotten Edgar stressed like this comes for them all, his and Aesop's remains may be indistinguishable.

He's snapped back to reality by Frederick speaking. Right. The sanctuary. They need to go there before someone sees them, or finds out what's happening, or comes to hurt them, or any number of other things racing across his mind. He finds himself clinging to Aesop's arm as they leave the mail room, distressed at the idea that they may be separated otherwise.

Edgar is snappy, as always, and yet that's the thing that makes his smile finally drop as they reach the doorway. It's not Edgar's fault for being the angry sort of scared, but instincts die hard as Victor flinches at the noise. But soon enough, they are through the door of the sanctuary once again, and he finds himself waiting for things to settle down.

For his steps to be led by Aesop, more specifically. He doesn't think he can handle being made to decide the first move, not now.

[thevoiceofdesertbluffs]

Imagine:

It's late at night. You are sleeping soundly, until you hear a crash that awakens you suddenly. Thinking it might be from outside, you attempt to go back to sleep. However, not even a minute later, you hear another noise, this time, it sounds much closer. You open your eyes widely. You are now very alert. There is something in your house.

You reach for your cellphone, but much to your dismay, it doesn't seem to turn on. Now slightly panicked, you grab your lamp and rip it out of the wall, and walk quickly and quietly over to your door. You decide that your only option now is to escape the house. Your objective now was to get out of the house without being noticed.

When you opened the door, the noises got louder. You heard scratching and clanging in the direction of the kitchen. Quietly and holding the massive lamp close to your chest, you scurry past the kitchen entrance and bolt towards the door, paying no mind to the sticky and viscous fluid you just stepped in, not to mention the horrific crunches being heard in the kitchen.

Finally at the door, you drop the lamp and bolt out, not bothering to close the door behind you. You rush to your car in a panic, and slam the door behind you, making sure the whole car is locked. You turn the key in attempt to start the car, but much to your horror, it doesn't start. It doesn't even turn on!!!!

You look at the fuel meter. Empty. Empty? But you could've sworn you just filled it!! Now in a panic, you attempt to leave the car, but the door is stuck.

In your panic, you almost didn't notice the clanging coming from your front door. You turn your head up to look at the door, and much to your horror, there's a figure standing in it. The figure wasn't very tall, and at first appeared to be human, but upon further inspection, it was clear that it wasn't quite human. It's face was illuminated by its dimly glowing eyes, making its rather horrifying teeth visible.

For a few minutes, you just stare at eachother, the figure's 2 antennae like appendages waving wildly in your direction. For a brief moment, you feel slightly calmer, beliving the figure would just remain there. Until, the figure began its approach. Welp, you're fucked!

[alstroemeriadissonance]

When it's that time of the month

Oh hey a brief intermission from the usual Vynposting

I'm enduring a really bad menstrual cramping right now

So why not write about each NXX duders on how'd they go about their Rosa dearest being in that most difficult time of the month

Let's have fun with this

EDIT: Added little bitties here and there. Running first drafts at 2 am isn't a good idea. But I am 2 am's slave

Artem

"I'm sorry Artem," moaned Rosa's voice from the phone speaker. "I know we made plans to watch that movie but..." A brief pause. "I'm not feeling well right now."

More than disappointment, Artem's Concern-O-Meter has hit critical levels. In his head ran all the possible causes of Rosa being under the weather, most of them pointing at him and the workload that he assigned her.

"Rosa?" he says into his phone, maybe a little louder than necessary. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Mhm..."

"I'll go there now."

"N-no!" Rosa cried in protest. Artem could hear a bit of panic in her voice. "It's fine. This will pass. I just need to rest this off..."

"I'm not comfortable with the idea of just leaving you be," said Artem as he quickly strode out of the cinema where he planned to buy their tickets. "I'm coming there. You may need to go to the h-"

"I'm having my period!" Rosa's voice cut him off, uncharacteristically high strung and irritated. "I really feel like crap, but it's fine, okay?"

Artem then and there stopped mid-stride so suddenly that someone who was walking behind him bumped against his back, but he was so flustered at his faux pas that he didn't even notice.

"I-I'm sorry," Artem was completely at a loss. He stammered his goodbyes to Rosa but he did not put away his phone after ending the call.

Instead , he sent a flurry of panicked messages to Celestine, who probably got a month's worth of amusement and blackmail fodder over Artem by the time their text conversation ended.

Artem was already a nervous wreck by the time he arrived at Rosa's doorstep. You may want to be careful around her, Celestine had warned, depending on how bad it is a girl in her period can get pretty snippy.

"A-Artem?!" Rosa's mouth gaped when she finally got to open the door. "What are you doing here?"

"And what are those?" she said, pointing at the large bags of what seemed to be groceries sitting by his feet.

Artem cleared his throat, "Ah. I thought you may need some. Ah. Help. And I got you some supplies so you wouldn't need to go out if you run out..."

His face and ears were already burning at this point but he has long given up salvaging the scraps of whatever was left of his pride.

"Run out of...?" Rosa was torn between feeling humiliated, irritated or just downright confused at her senior partner. A male senior partner. "What, Artem?" her voice was weary.

"...apkins," Artem muttered almost inaudibly.

At that point Rosa just gave up and let him in. "Just get inside," she moaned. "I'll need to lie down." She padded her way to her sofa in living room and curled up, her face buried in a pillow.

The menstrual cramping was getting worse. Rosa could feel Artem's presence moving about her apartment but the dull ache was overriding most of her senses.

"Have you taken some medicine?" Artem asked, rather carefully.

"N-no," Rosa muttered. "Had I known you'd drop by I would have--"

"I have some right here."

"Oh."

Artem helped Rosa to a sitting position, handing her a pill (that he bought upon Celestine's recommendation), and a glass of water.

"Thanks, Artem," Rosa said, then promptly curled up into the sofa again. "I'll just be like this for a couple of hours or so."

And, in a softer voice, "I'm sorry."

"That's fine. I understand."

The next half hour was spent with Artem trying to busy himself with putting away the supplies: In the bathroom went two packs of napkins of different brands; two packs of tampons, also of different brands (to give Rosa options, as he was too embarrassed to ask her what she used). A tub of strawberry ice cream went into the freezer. Chocolates went into the fridge. The remaining groceries--different kinds of cooking ingredients--were left on the countertop for him to prepare later.

It's a monthly thing, Celestine had reminded Artem earlier. Are you sure you're going to start doing this?

It's fine, Artem thought to himself. If Rosa allows, it could probably become a monthly ritual between them.

Luke

I'm sorry Luke, can't go. Period happened.

"Aaron," Luke said to the doctor currently signing his prescription. "Do you know what women take for period pains?

Aaron Yishmir snorted, then excused himself. "Let me guess," he said as he pushed the sheet of paper towards his patient. "Its for her?"

"Who else?" Luke smiled as he pocketed the folded prescription slip. "It's probably bad, because she had to skip out on a convention she was looking forward to for months."

"That bad, eh?" Aaron said as he took his personal pad and scribbled yet another prescription, and turned the paper over to write additional instructions in his fast handwriting. "Here. It's more potent than the usual OTC." He glanced at his watch. "It's barely past 9. Why don't you be a good little boyfriend and run along now, maybe you can still go on a date after lunch?"

Luke's eyes slightly widened. "Wow. That fast huh?"

"Yep, that it is." Aaron handed him the slip. "Tell her though that it's only for now. Take it regularly and her liver'll be shot."

Luke's hand froze a split second before he was able to take the paper. "What. That's obviously unsafe."

Aaron sighed. "That's what the prescription and following the doctor's instructions is for," he said, obviously having had this type of conversation with Luke for several times now. "Take it. Run along now."

Luke was going to retort, but thought the better of it and decided to trust his doctor. "I'll kick your ass if she fails her next physical exam," he said, with a wry smile. "Thanks Aaron."

Aaron waved him out of his office with his usual winning grin.

Several hours later. Four in the afternoon.

"Luke!" Rosa squealed in delight, pointing at the huge statue of a robot whose show they used to watch as kids. "I can't believe I'd see something like that here in Stellis!"

Rosa's arms were full of merchandise that Luke knew she secretly coveted ever since they were kids: a Godzilla doll, a model kit of their favorite robot show, aimed at beginners. And a bag of stationery that she would probably use at work.

There was no indication at all on her person that she tried to cancel their date hours ago.

Luke contented himself with the sight of his Rosa's ear-to-ear grin, clutching her new toys. Just like old times.

Unbeknownst to Rosa, Luke was holding on to the second prescription slip in his hand, folded into a tiny strip, small enough to nestle in his glove. Written on the back of the paper was

Go on your date. Doctor's orders.

Marius

"Marius. Von. Hagen," Rosa's voice was weary, and wary at the same time. "What are you doing here?"

She had opened her apartment door, only to be greeted by the sight of Marius in his corporate attire, several paper bags bearing the Pax logo sitting by his feet.

"I heard from my secretary that you had to beg off from our date," Marius put on a pout. "Missy, are you that unwell enough to cancel on a date with poor little me?"

The look on Rosa's face were a mixture of exasperation and pain. "Take a guess."

Marius noticed that Rosa's hand was holding her lower abdomen. A more serious look crossed his face for a split second, then like a flip of a switch changed back into his puppy-eyed pout. "Aren't you going to let me in, Missy? I brought all these for you..."

Rosa gave up. The cramping was getting too intense to bear. "Come in. I'll just go lie down." She then padded over to her sofa in the living room and curled up in it. "Make yourself at home."

A few minutes in, Marius was already giddily taking out boxes of assorted products from the Pax Group paper bags and carefully arranged them on Rosa's glass center table, humming all the while.

"There, all ready," Marius nodded with approval. "Missy, can I trouble you for five minutes? I promise it'll be worth it."

A muffled voice came from the sofa across him. "If you go even a second over five minutes I'll throw the book at you. Literally."

Marius gulped. "Miiissy, that's cruel...."

Rosa's shoulders rose as she sighed deeply and sat up. "Okay, let's see it." Pain was clearly evident as she winced.

Marius almost backed out of the little show he planned to tease her with after seeing the obvious show of discomfort. But he quickly recovered and with a smile waved a hand towards the array of boxes he arranged on the table. "Let me introduce to you the latest from Pax Pharmaceuticals!"

Rosa balked. "Marius." She didn't bother appending his last name. "Did you seriously come here to sell your products?"

Marius kept his forced smile plastered on, despite Rosa practically glowering at him. "Mmyeap."

"I would kill you right now, but I'm hurting too much and I don't want Themis Law to get in trouble with the Pax Group."

Marius relented, and let out a sigh. "Missy, I'm sorry. I actually came here to get you some meds and supplies to help." He grabbed one of the boxes from the table and brought it to Rosa. "See? I have here some fast-acting anti menstrual cramp medicine!"

Rosa wordlessly opened the box and took out a blister pack. She popped one out and was going to take it dry when Marius stopped her. "Whoa, hang on, let me get you some water." He scrambled to her kitchen and returned with a glass of water. "Here."

Rosa took the proffered glass and downed the pill with a huge gulp of water.

"Well," she said with a weak grin, "Let's see the other products Pax Pharmaceuticals has to offer."

Marius' face brightened at her words. "Of course!"

Look at that puppy go, Rosa thought to herself. How cute.

"Well, this here is our latest in sanitary napkin technology....this one is the thinnest ever tampons yet..."

Vyn

"Dr. Richt--Vyn? What are you doing here?"

Rosa opened her door to the sight of Vyn Richter still in his white coat, with a small brown paper bag in hand.

"You said you were in pain. I took a guess," Vyn said, his eyes scanning Rosa for any tell tale signs that could tell him the nature of her discomfort. "Is it your monthly period?" He asked, plainly.

"Uh..." Rosa blushed despite her pain. "Yeah."

"You do not have to be embarrassed about it. I am still a medical doctor, after all." He smiled gently at her. "Could you let me in? I need to give you your medicine and administer some...treatment."

After giving Rosa a couple of pills along with a glass of water, Vyn asked her where she kept her bath towels.

"They're upstairs, in the closet nearest the bathroom." Rosa was still too preoccupied in pain to ask why he was looking for towels for bathing, specifically. She remained curled up in her living room sofa, waiting for the medicine to kick in.

She could hear Vyn pace around the loft of her apartment, including her bedroom. "Weird," she thought, her mind in a haze. What is he doing in my bedroom.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Vyn walked over to her. "Preparations are ready," he said.

"What's ready?" Rosa winced as she turned on the sofa to face Vyn. "Wha--what are you doing?"

Vyn picked Rosa up in his arms and carried her princess-style. "Treatment," he said simply. "To supplement the plain paracetamol I just gave you."

He brought her upstairs and gently placed her on her bed, which was now noticeably covered with her bath towels.

"Vyn?" Rosa blinked, confused. "What...?"

She could only look on as Vyn took off his coat and draped it on her chair. But he did not stop with the coat; he also loosened his cuffs and tie, and started taking off the rest of his clothes.

"Wait, WAIT," Rosa said, a realization dawning on her face. "Are you seriously...?"

Vyn's golden eyes sparkled seductively through the stray wisps of his silver hair.

"Do you not know?" Another gentle smile dances on his lips, contrasting with the predatory glint in his eyes. "Releasing endorphins through orgasm is one of the best ways to cope with menstrual cramps." He sauntered towards her, never breaking eye contact.

"Shall we begin the operation?"

====

A/N: NSFW continuation for Vyn's part here

[moonshineboyz]

[17:40]

Pairing: volleyball player!Juyeon × volleyball player! fem reader

Genre: Smut, enemies with benefits

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, rough/hate (?) sex, usage of the word slut, mentions of choking and spanking, lowkey public sex, brief fingering

a/n: i know juyeon is not holding a volleyball but let's just pretend. i got this idea from listening to lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off by panic! at the disco 🤠 i'm not sure if i like the ending but,,, (@annyeongffs enjoy bb)

masterlist ♡

“Okay guys, let’s wrap up for today. Both teams did great!” The coach called and everyone got out of their positions, stretching out the tense muscles and walking out of court. “Nuh uh, minus you two Juyeon and Y/N.” He called again making you stop in your tracks. “You’re gonna take the volleyballs and net to the equipment room and pump up the basketballs. That’s what you get for arguing and swearing at each other every five minutes even during practice.”

You cursed under your breath sending a death glare towards Juyeon, who just looked at you expressionless. ‘Stupid son of a bitch.’

The coach left the court with the remaining of your team mates that waved at you from afar. You waved back and went to collect the scattered balls letting the boy get the net, since he was taller.

“If you weren’t so annoying, I could be going to my dorm right now.” He said when you walked past him on your way to the equipment room. You thought in giving a rude reply but bit your tongue not to curse back at him, already feeling your blood boil. “I'm talking to you.” You turned on your heel to face him.

“What do you mean? It’s your fault! You were throwing the ball too far for me to catch it in time!” You snarled.

“Isn’t it the whole point? Make the ball touch the floor on your adversary's side? I think you're just complaining because you're not that good of a player." Juyeon had just finished getting the net out of the first pole and glared at you with a raised brow. He really was getting under your skin.

"For your information, I'm the second best in the female team. I just can't deal with bullshit coming from a jerk like you."

Fuming, you turned your back again, walking away to fight back the temptation of throwing one of the balls in your arms directly at his annoying handsome face. Juyeon knew exactly how to get on your nerves and you couldn't stand having to be in the same room with him for too long without getting annoyed or bickering.

You were looking into the lockers searching for a second air pump, since there wasn't any other way and you had to pump up the balls, the best option was to you two do it separately so you could go home as soon as possible. While you were at it Juyeon entered the equipment room bringing the net and you quickly thought of a way to get yourself out of that situation.

"Here, the air pump." You handed him the object, to which he accepted but kept looking at you puzzled. "I didn't find another one, so, you do it."

"And what you're gonna do?"

"Go home!? What else do you expect me to do? Blow out the balls like they're balloons?" Your eyes rolled at how he scoffed at you, arms crossing in front of your body.

"I mean, I know something else you'd like to blow." A cheeky grin grew on his lips and past scenes of his dick on your mouth flashed through your mind.

“Shut the fuck up, will you? You’re so fucking annoying.” You raised your voice taking the boy aback for a moment, your jaw clenched and brows furrowed. “I can’t even stand looking at y-"

The words died at your throat as Juyeon dropped the air pump to grab your jaw firmly, pushing you up against the nearest wall. He was close, his tall figure towering over yours as he looked down at you with dark eyes.

“If you want to yell at me so bad, then I'll give you a reason to do so.” He muttered through gritted teeth and you could feel he was getting mad as well.

“Fuck you.” You scoffed trying to masquerade the fact that your heart was beating fast.

“Oh, you just did on semi-finals night, darling.” Juyeon let go of your face to brush his knuckles against the skin of your cheek, trailing south till it reached the side of your neck. You wished you didn’t shiver at the light touch, making it obvious to him that you enjoyed it. “Speaking of which, where have you been these past weeks? Were you too busy with that asshole from the basketball team?”

You didn’t even notice when you started to hold your breath but you were already feeling intoxicated by the low tone of his voice, knowing exactly what he was implying. His longs fingers wrapping around your throat not helping at all, and you thanked the sound of your racing heart wasn’t audible.  

“Why? Jealous much?” It took everything in you to let that out in a disinterested voice, sticking to an attitude not to let him win in any circumstance.

“C'mon, doll, you know I'd never date you; this is just for the fun. You’re just someone to hook up with.” He took a step closer, few inches away to press his body against yours. His skin was still glistening from the after practice sweat and you could almost say he looked hot, even though your mouth told otherwise.  

“And that’s all you can get after all. You’re good in bed but you’re as charming as a rock. No surprise you’re single.” Juyeon quirked a brow, his eyes dark as ever.

“Aw, you’re not attracted to me? Yeah, keep lying to yourself, darling. This is the most fun you can have besides taking your clothes off, isn’t it?” His breath fanned at your lips as the grip on your throat tightened, making him chuckle when a small moan dared to scape you. “Gosh, I really missed your pretty little pussy swallowing my dick and you screaming my name.”

You hated Juyeon to the moon and back with your whole being. He was arrogant, full of himself and egocentric, but what you hated the most was the fact that he knew how to touch you and make you feel things in a way you’d never experienced before, and you’d never admit that out loud. You'd never admit to his face how you also missed him pounding into you while you hooked up with other guys.

It was hard to recall when or even how you two started having this type of relationship, an 'enemies with benefits' kind you could say, because you clearly weren’t friends at all. You would pay not to have to spend the practice time looking at his face, and Juyeon would rather die than bumping into you in the hallways.  

But both couldn’t deny the sexual tension, and maybe that’s what led you to it, or maybe that was only a tactic to release stress, and you just happened to be there for each other. What’s a better way to calm your nerves than fucking your enemy? The sex was great after all and you couldn’t name any other boy who has ever made you cum so hard. Perhaps the hate towards each other really did add fuel to the fire and made things more interesting, competing who could make the other orgasm the fastest.

"I hate you so much." You said trying not to moan again when Juyeon pressed his torso against yours, sneaking his knee between your thighs, to which you rolled your hips grinding down on it.

"It's reciprocal, I just like to fuck you dumb." His hands went to your waist, grabbing hard and pulling you more into him. You were already melting at the tip of his fingers and didn't think twice before crashing your lips together and tugged at his hair with force as he moved his leg to cause more friction on your core. His big hands roaming all over your body roughly and squeezing your ass. A hiss came out of Juyeon's lips when you scratched his back underneath the shirt, sure to leave red marks. "Don't start a game you know you're gonna lose."

Juyeon pulled you by the wrist to the old desk to careless bend you over it. You couldn't lie saying you didn't like how everything was rough with him, it made a shiver run down your spine every time he kissed you hard and pulled your hair as you cursed at him digging your nails into his skin. He never cared about whether or not he was leaving bruises on your hips, neck and inner thighs, but neither did you. You secretly enjoyed admiring them later in the mirror.

“Here? Really?”

“It’s not like we haven’t done this before. Plus, everyone left, you can scream all you want.” A hand came down hard on your right ass cheek making you yelp. Another smack on the left side and you winced in pain arching your back. “You look good in the team's uniform, but look even better when I'm filling you up.”

He massaged your ass before harshly pulling your tight shorts down to your ankles and you stepped out of them, feeling his hands travel up your legs and holding your hips to press his hard on on your clothed core. You sighed grinding against him, your mind already getting hazy.

The boy brought you up to leave hungry kisses down your neck and bit on the curvature. Your breath hitched when his short nails raked the skin of your belly and you let your head rest on his shoulder, closing your eyes lost in the sensations. “Now tell me, is it still me that makes you sweat? Did you think of me when you were in bed with them?” He growled in your ear biting your lobe, making you grind harder.

“Not even for a second, didn’t even cross my mind.” Lucky you your mouth worked faster than your body so you didn’t dumbly nod agreeing with him. “You’re good but not the best.” You weren’t even ashamed in lying.

Juyeon let out a dark chuckle and grabbed your throat while the other hand squeezed one of your breasts. “We both know I've got a hotter touch, a better fuck than any guy you’ll ever meet. Or else you wouldn’t be coming back begging for my cock whenever you feel horny.”

“You wish.”

“Then why are you still here?” He teased licking your neck and smirked when you shuddered.

“Didn’t you say you missed my pussy? Then fuck me already.” You huffed impatient to which his only answer was to rub circles in your clit over your damp underwear. Juyeon pushed you back to bend over the desk, quickly and roughly pulling your panties down that you’d had stumbled if you were standing straight. “You’re gonna rip my panties, you asshole.”

He scoffed, slapping you once again. “You didn’t complain the other times I did.” His hand palmed himself through the shorts while the other went to your core, fingers playing with your wet folds. You whimpered when he slid one digit inside and added a second right after already moving, making your back arch. “Think I need to remind you that you’re just a fuck toy, not some porcelain doll. They must’ve treated you so nicely, but you like it rough, don’t you?”

Juyeon removed his fingers from you and pulled his own shorts down just enough to free his member and teased your slit with the tip, making you bite your lip in anticipation. Your breath got cut short when he gripped your waist and pushed in in one quick thrust, his cock disappearing into your warmth and your pussy clenched at the feeling of every inch of him stretching you open.

He didn't give you time to even take a deep breath and started moving in a fast pace, grabbing your hips with force. You could feel your whole body getting hot, sweat starting to form on your temples, skin prickling. "How someone so annoying like you have a pussy so good?" He groaned giving a hard, sharp thrust making you gasp and lifted your right leg to put over the desk. You were there so open for him; bent over that he could do anything. And you enjoyed every part of it.

Breathy moans were leaving your lips mixing with obscene wet sounds from your dripping cunt and his hips slamming yours recklessly now, going deeper and deeper inside you. Juyeon was holding you so strong and digging his nails in your skin that you were sure it'd leave bruises. "F-fuck, Juyeon!" You screamed out when he pulled almost all of his length out just to pushed it back in with a quick motion. He smirked to himself and kept repeating it, just to see you writhe and lose your mind.

His hand pulled your ponytail to which you winced but couldn't contain a moan. Your knuckles were turning white holding onto the desk for dear life as Juyeon completely rammed into you. "Not so talkative right now, huh?" He grabbed both your arms, pinning them behind your back with his own hands. "Look at you clenching so desperately. Gonna cum on my cock like a good slut?" His voice was low, watching your whole body shake as you approached your high, loud and breathy sounds escaping your lips.

You came crying out his name, shaking violently and trying to roll your hips back to get more of him. Juyeon pulled out slowly, feeling your walls fluttering and you whimpered at the emptiness. Even though you were sensitive, Juyeon's dick was so good that it never failed to make you want more and more.

A last sigh left you before you got pushed to your knees facing his cock. "Now be the good little slut and you are and put this mouth to a better use."

[apixrl]

YOUR EREN.

eren jeager x fem!reader

WARNING(S): angst. slight manipulation. s4 spoilers. brief mentions of (but not actually) throwing up at the end.

word count: 5.9k

song: a soulmate who wasn't meant to be // jess benko

note(s): oh, that sound? it's just the sound of my tears whilst writing this oneshot. no biggie

The prison cells underneath headquarters were as dark and dreary as ever as you stood opposite them. Whilst the windows were generously large, the night sky was not so giving. Clouds were gloomy and blocked out the moon and stars, replacing it with a heavy downpour of rain. If you listened closely, you could pick up on the faint 'pitter patter' as droplets met the pebbled ground outside, the sound comforting compared to the echoing silence within the walls. Mattresses were placed in the corners of each cell, old and tattered after years of use by many different faces. You could only imagine their discomfort as you'd never been required to sleep on them, your record in the Scout Regiment practically a clean slate after your years of service. You were someone who took your position as a soldier seriously; respected your superiors and did as told when told.

As for Eren Jeager? It seemed in recent events he was past the point of caring.

Such a fact was blatant as you stared at him through the prison bars, your back pressed against the wall, body stiff and fearful of what would happen if you tried to step closer. Eren's gaze was terrifying to witness even from the odd angle you stared at him. His eyes locked on the ceiling as he lay flat on his back on the bed of his cell. His hair had been pulled back into a messy bun, some strands not long enough to reach so far back were fated to live a life of their own. They glued to his temples and forehead and even entwined with the strands pulled back. You couldn't decide if the look was flattering or not.

"I...," You blurted out without thought of what you planned to actually say, your pathetic attempt at making conversation followed up with a nervous whimper. Eren barely inched a muscle when you broke the quiet, from his eyes to his hands that lay lifeless at his side. He remained laid down as if you weren't even there. That made your heart weep in the worst of ways and your mind qualm - to think the last time you were together he was holding you in his arms as you gazed under the stars. And now he could barely spare you a second glance.

"It's been a while since you were last cooped up in one of these cells," You eventually tried again, calming yourself down as best you could by trying to be light-hearted. "Remember when we would play cards through the bars when I could visit? Those were fun times," You smiled sadly at the memories, eyes drifting away from Eren and towards nothing in particular. The smile then faded, the yearn to experience easier days once more hitting you as hard as stone. "If only we could experience them again,"

Your tone lowered, left unhinged since you knew mourning for what was no more was a waste of time. But you couldn't help yourself. All you wanted was to live in the past, where the titans were slane and the Scouts had reached the sea. All you wanted was to live out your days with your friends, talk and laugh with no need to worry about the rest of the world. All you wanted was to fall into Eren's embrace, to love him with all your might as he did you. There was a short period where that was your life, one filled with simplicity and peace after years of blood and death and gore that haunted your every nightmare. It had been pleasant, and you missed it. More than you were willing to admit.

If only Eren hadn't pushed things too far.

Eren's eyes shifted after a prolonged silence, travelling from the ceiling to you across the way. He was quick to take note of your vacancy, your conflict as you stared at him. How you created your own form of a jail cell by restricting yourself to the opposite side of the room. Maintaining a safe distance like you sensed you would get hurt stepping too far. Eren sighed loudly at that fact. Which caught your attention, E/C eyes flicking back to him at the sound. Eren pushed himself upright, eyes leaving you to stare at the floor before he hoisted himself off of the bed. Then, he turned to face you, searching for you through the wisps of his unkempt fringe.

You held your breath when he did, unable to fathom just how uncomfortable his gaze made you feel. Typically, Eren looking your way would send butterflies to your stomach. Your heart would perform somersaults and beat soundly with joy. Your cheeks would heat up, to which he would smile and tease and call it cute - merely deepening your flustered state like it was some fun game.

But this time, upon him meeting your gaze, nausea swiftly followed after. Rising concern over unconditional love based on his expression alone. It was empty. Unreadable. Nothing you had ever seen him display before. You had witnessed most if not all his worst moments up front but none of them - none of them, came close to just how desolately devoid he looked in that moment.

His lips didn't twitch, firmly held together as they added to his glaring aura. His brows arched sterner than Captain Levi's when you failed to clean a room up to standards, you didn't think it was possible for them to be so closely knit. But the worst part that made you truly sick to the stomach at the unfamiliarity of it all, were his eyes. Their usual bright and gleaming jade green blend that had entranced you from the instant you met Eren were now bleaker and more stationary than ever. They no longer held a zest and determination that motivated you to fight another day, no notable twinkle against the dimly lit room. Only a barren vacancy the most broken are succumbed to display.

You felt the need to comment on it, communicate to Eren just how worried you were. That you wanted to help him because you cared about him more than anyone else in the entire world. You were willing to lay your life down for him, and had even nearly become an anonymous number in the ranks because of that sheer will alone. However, before you had the chance to open your mouth, Eren beat you to it.

"Did Hange send you down here to try and sway me?" Eren asked half-rhetorically, taking a couple of steps forwards until the bars of his cell stopped him. "You of all people should know you can't stop me, so why even bother?"

You were taken back by his bluntness, even more so by his disregard for your previous words. Like you had never said them in the first place and he was the one initiating conversation. Perhaps it was so Eren felt he had the control, asserting dominance in a relationship where he already held more than half of it. His aim was unclear, but you persisted nonetheless.

"No, they didn't," You said. "I came here on my own accord, Eren," You shrugged your shoulders aimlessly. "I wanted to see you. I-I've missed you," Eren's eyes narrowed in suspicion, studying your frame for any sign indicating you were lying. He came out with no clear answer as from the instant you had set foot in the room you'd been shaking like a lamb bleating after its mother. Afraid. His arms crossed over his broad chest still in doubt, the action reminding you just how much he'd changed over the last few years. He was taller, looming over you even whilst feet apart. He was no doubt stronger, evident with or without the fact he held the power of three titans within him. Eren was no longer the vigorous and unruly boy he once was, who devoted his strength to rid the world of all the titans. He was now an indestructible force that vouched for freedom, his will to fight unshaken by no one.

"If you missed me so much," He started, looking down at you with what only felt like shame. "What took you so long to visit?" Raising a brow, you realised he held a point with his inquiry. If you proposed you missed him why hadn't you visited? The truth was you were scared of who you would find on the other side when you did. Levi and Hange had given you the option since the first day Eren was placed in his cell. But no matter the undying need to have Eren in your line of sights again, you failed to find the courage to make that final step.

"I wanted to, I-I really did," You said in a panic. "I was just scared! I didn't know what to say or how to speak to you after... after...,"

"After what?" Eren reprimanded, glowering at you as his hands wrapped around the iron bars. Your eyes widened and you whimpered, shaking your head frantically as a means to apologise.

"N-No Eren. I didn't mean it like that I just -," You swallowed thickly, your breathing quickening as Eren's pressing stare intimidated you more and more by the second. You hated how much you were falling apart. Where had your Eren gone?! Your Eren who always fretted over you during and after battles. Your Eren who grew antsy at Jean or Connie if they got a little too comfortable in your company. Your Eren who snuck into your room past curfew to share stories of his life late into the night. Your Eren who crammed his lips on yours when he couldn't hide his feelings any longer, confirming your relationship would turn from friendship to deepened love. You missed your Eren. You wanted your Eren back. Was that so much to ask?!

"You just what?" He spoke harshly, impatience riddled within every letter and syllable. You were quick to notice his grip on the bars tighten to the point you thought he'd snap them clean in two.

"I...," You trailed off, finishing your cut sentence with a defeated sigh. Your hands lowered to your sides as your head hung forwards. Perhaps being upfront with him was the only way you could go. "You killed people, Eren. Innocent people that hadn't done anything wrong! You ate somebody. Women, men and children crushed under debris like they were nothing. Y-You... you made Armin destroy that port and your decision making got Sasha killed!" You brought a hand to your forehead, not realising how distressed you sounded as you recalled that night. Tears started forming in your eyes, lip trembling. "Shit! I nearly... if Jean hadn't shot that Marley soldier first then I would've...,"

You had experienced a rocky start during the raid on Marley. One of your biggest flaws as a soldier was your will to take another life. Life as in... a human life. You despised the concept and did everything in your power to avoid it all costs, even if your fellow soldiers disagreed (especially Levi's, who persisted humans could be just as bad as titans when it came to killing). That exact flaw came forth when you first encountered a Marleyan soldier, and your hesitation almost ended with a bullet between your eyes. Had Jean not been behind you just in time... your grave would have been undoubtedly determined. There was a time where Eren was the same as you, never wanting to act and inflict harm on other humans. But times had changed since then. Oh, how you hated how much it had changed since then. None of it was fair.

A silence ensued, your stifled sobs the only thing willing to break it. Eren watched you motionlessly, the glare still apparent on his face as your emotions got the better of you. You hadn't realised just how shaken up you were from what happened. Sure, you had faced death many times, but always at the hand of titans. Where you had to evade giant swooshing limbs and teeth that could churn your flesh as cows do cud. Never had you looked another human in the eye and watched them contemplate killing you. To aim a gun directly your way and prep the shot as you realised what their intentions were. Then a feeble attempt to escape approaching death, all too distracted with your life flashing before your eyes for you to see the way out. That was one of the scariest moments of your life. You never wanted to endure it again. Never.

"Come here,"

You stiffened up, looking at Eren amidst dishevelled strands of H/C hair falling over your face. His glare had left and his face had returned to its neutral state, his eyes boring into you with his demand lingering in the air. You wiped your nose on your sleeve as well as your eyes, confused by the abrupt change in atmosphere. A truly weird circumstance and turn of events you weren't expecting indeed. At first, you weren't sure doing as Eren said was a smart idea, having heard Hange's experience with him during a debrief. You didn't believe Eren would treat you with the same sort of disrespect, but you also didn't want to take that risk just in case.

"B-But...,"

"Just do it," He roughly snapped, suspense in his tone kicking you up the hind to move. With a yelp, you pushed yourself off of the wall - back sighing out in bliss after starting to ache because of the uneven rocky surface. You gingerly stepped towards Eren, biting down on your lip to stop it trembling in fright. You came to a stop once close enough to the iron bars, hands going to wrap themselves around them, around the same ones as Eren. Whether you intended for that or it was just subconscious instinct you didn't know. Finally, your eyes dropped to the floor, lost on where to focus. Eren hummed a complacent sigh at your actions, head tilting to the side as he looked you up and down. You couldn't find an answer to what was running through his mind, blank gaze concealing all form of emotion and clarity. Then, just as you thought the silence couldn't grow any more powerful, Eren lifted his hand and reached out for you.

You gasped at the sudden contact, the feeling of Eren's hand cupping your face sending all sorts of sensations through you. His palm was warm despite the cool air of the prison cell. It was as though his hand was constructed to cradle your cheek, moulded into the perfect structure to which you filled in the empty spaces. His hand felt soft even after years of wear and tear of fighting and training, fingers long but not at all discomforting. You had forgotten just how pleasant the feel of Eren's thumb across your cheekbone was until he initiated the motion, almost a way to lure you in. And with your deprivation of his touch - of him. That was enough to have you wrapped around his finger.

"I forgot how nice it was to hold you like this," Eren declared monotonously, though his expression betrayed his lack of care. Something about it had calmed, but he didn't allow it to stay for long, gone so fast that if you blinked you would have missed it. You inhaled deeply, head tilting to the side as you nuzzled into his hand. Seeming satisfied with that, Eren proceeded. "That and just how easily you melt under my touch,"

"Eren," You uttered no louder than a whisper, eyes closing tight as you welcomed his touch. You despised how much he was correct, that you became putty without him even needing to try. That was the impact of love, after all, it makes people act in crazy ways and do some incredibly crazy things. But you couldn't ignore the odd funny feeling still pitting your gut, begging you to stop falling to Eren's will before it was too late. You couldn't get carried away, he had committed obscene criminal acts without jurisdiction. That was more than enough to get him locked up for life, regardless of the war you were fighting. You should be disgusted by his actions, his corrupted thinking and the way he went behind the Military's backs to further his own idea of freedom. You were disgusted.

But you also loved him. Way, way more than you were disgusted.

A frown merged onto your face, blending awkwardly with the once peaceful content that Eren noticed as fast as it appeared. He managed to figure out the thoughts running through your mind also, the young adult lamenting a sigh and he opened his mouth to speak. Not before his hand drifted down to your chin, tilting your head up to make you look at him. His thumb planted on your bottom lip as he grazed over it.

"I'm trying to build a future for Eldia, Y/N," Eren spoke firmly, your heart having a brief elation to the way he said your name. It had been far too long since you had heard him say it. "A future for us, where we can be free and live our lives the way we want to,"

"I know," You began, eyes opening to meet Eren's. "But there are other ways, Eren. More humane ways. We don't have to kill anymore if we just-,"

"There isn't another way," Eren interrupted, his ministrations of stroking your chin coming to an abrupt halt. "We've tried other ways and they haven't worked," Eren evaded your disheartened stare. "I'm sick of it not working,"

"We all are, Eren. Stop making out that you're the only victim here," You paid no mind to Eren's reaction. "We're all victims of this shitshow that's our reality, and we're all just as much the culprits of it as well! All w-we do is fight fire with fire and add more ashes to the pile with each person we slaughter," You felt your grip tighten on the bars, gritting your teeth harshly together. "I'm sick of all the violence and suffering! I just want to go back to the days when we could be at peace. Where we could laugh and joke because the main problem - the titans, were dealt with! I became a soldier to fight titans, not to embark on an endless war where both sides are human and neither is willing to cooperate with the other,"

"Those days are gone," Eren spoke sternly, though it softened up when he noticed you look away. "But they can return," He pressed his forehead against the iron bars, staring at you through deadened eyes. "We can live a life of freedom together once I finish what I started, all I need you to do is stay by my side and to have faith,"

Your eyes widened, gawking at Eren with complete and utter disbelief at his words. His persistence came off like the cruellest of sicknesses, corrupting Eren's mind to the point of insanity. His moral compass was in shambles as was his sense of humanity. The way his eyes were numbed right down to their pupils, blinded by his visions of a future for Eldia that came with the cost of the rest of the world's suffering. It pained you to witness such a change, to witness Eren's descent into madness as war took over his every thought and breath. Suddenly that foreign feeling in your stomach became clear as day, and you abhorred it with a deadly passion.

"I don't want to be free in a world built on other people's suffering," Your hands fell down to your sides, heartbeat racing as you avoided Eren's gaze. He quirked a brow, eyes piercing into you once he realised what you meant, and his chosen tone suggested he didn't like that one bit.

"What are you trying to say?"

You faltered, both as a mental brace and a state of refusal to your next actions. A second or so passed before you took a step back, creating a distance that did more damage than healing. With a shaky breath, you answered his question.

"I love you Eren, with everything I am. B-but I can't stand by your side if this is the path you're going to take," The tears were already brewing, doing everything you could to blink them away. "I won't sit by and watch the rest of the world crumble because of your selfish desires,"

You hated the words you were saying, how you said them and who you were saying them to. That it had all come to this, where Eren became the threat to humanity rather than its saviour. He only had so much time left and had you known that his way of spending it was to spiral the world into chaos - perhaps you wouldn't have grown so attached.

"I can't - I...," Since he hadn't said anything, you felt the urgency to speak. "Eren you have no idea how much I want to but this isn't how I saw our future -,"

"What future?" Eren persisted, not giving you a chance to reply. "Eldia has no future within the walls, these cages! It's time we give the world a taste of its own medicine, so what if a couple of lives are taken out on the way? It's not like they give a damn about ours," Eren scoffed when you shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes and the stinging sensation that came with it was painful to deal with.

"Please, Eren. Think about what you're saying," You pleaded and begged. But you knew it was no use, Eren too fixated on his 'destiny' to see logical reason. Merely the look in his eyes was proof enough to tell you that. "What happened to you? When did you become so heartless? Where's the Eren I knew all those years ago gone? Don't you miss it back then? When we weren't cheating death and we could simply be us? Be two dumb teens in love and the only thing that mattered was that love we shared? Do you even think about that anymore? About me? What about -,"

"Stop it," Eren stopped you, voice acting as a silencer to your blubbering drabble. Flinching at the interruption your mouth clamped shut, and your eyes darted for Eren in surprise. Despite locked behind bars, you were still terrified, and it felt more like you were the prisoner of the pair. With a low growl, Eren raised a clenched fist and thrashed it harshly against the bars. It made a low but loud 'thunk!' sound that hit your ears like impending doom, deafening all around you excluding that of Eren and the words he uttered next. "I'm sick of listening to you whine about shit that's not even important,"

"W-what?" You stammered in question, voice unsteady. "What do you mean it's not important?"

"Do you really think that amidst all of this I have time to be playing boyfriend?" Eren half-mocked. "I've got bigger priorities than you right now," He didn't look you in the eye, nostrils flared as his gaze lingered on the floor. Your legs nearly gave way at what you were hearing, each word a fatal stab to the stomach. Each stab even more malicious than the last. So that was it? You didn't matter anymore? Were you just some pawn in Eren's plan until he didn't feel he needed you anymore? Had his love ever been real or was it all a hoax to manipulate your every waking thought?

A minute passed of still silence, one of the many that evening. Your eyes never left Eren, searching for something to indicate he was joking. As well as contemplating pinching yourself in hopes you woke up from this horrible nightmare. Maybe you'd wake up in your Eren's arms, safe and secure as you lay beside him - his gentle breaths from deep sleep tickling the back of your neck and helping you forget the entire reason you woke up. But sadly, no such thing happened. You never woke up from anything but were instead left to face an Eren you barely knew anymore. Endure the pain as he pounded words into your head that gashed crueller than the worst of war wounds.

Realising this, you felt an urge to laugh, unsure what else there was you really could do. Crying was ineffective, and there was no way you could let Eren get the better of you. That's probably what he wanted anyway, for you to turn around and beg on your hands and knees. So as your hand met your face, you released the smallest of chuckles, lacking in humour but overwhelmed with an unforeseen emptiness. It definitely caught Eren by surprise, but he was fast to not hide it as he pressured that vacant stare onto you yet again.

"You insist your plan is the only way to get us our future, but I'm not even sure what future you mean anymore," You hesitated, trying to gain control of your lip which began to quiver erratically. "Clearly it's not the one we imagined together when we were younger,"

"If only you weren't so blinded by your emotions," Eren avoided your words, something you noticed and felt more agonised by than relieved. "Stop thinking with your feelings and see the logic, already. It's so annoying,"

Almost choking on the sob you tried to hold down, you bit down harshly on your lip - any harder and you probably would have drawn blood. You did everything you could to ignore Eren's words, but you were so hurt that you were losing the means to do so.

But you couldn't let his words consume you and manifest them into truth. You had to be strong, use whatever power you had left to regain your composure and come out the bigger person. Eren had always been a stubborn brat, Levi's nickname reigning true now more than ever.

"Use your head and think, Y/N," Eren spoke slowly, leaning his weight back onto one foot. He stretched his arm out towards you, held out for you to take. "Maybe if you stop caring for those that'll just kill you off for sport you'll actually comprehend why you're following the wrong cause,"

His words were suffocating and barbaric, not at all inspiring or persuading in the slightest. It didn't make you feel hopeful, it made you feel trapped. All you wanted was for it to stop. It wasn't love no matter how much you adored him. It wasn't healthy no matter the good memories you had shared. You had to stop the past messing with your head. You had to stop Eren messing with your head. You wanted to get out and escape. You needed to and as soon as possible. So, taking a moment to regain your composure, your hands raised to adjust the collar of your jacket and you looked over at Eren. An apologetic expression on your face for deciding to cut the visit short.

"I think I should... should go check on Armin and the others," You started, not sure what Eren would make of that. He appeared to show confusion, blinking once your words processed and frowning based on how sudden they were.

"Why would you need to do that?"

"They've been busy, and they're probably looking for me," You made up on the spot. "I didn't tell them I was coming to see you," Eren was silent, eyeing you up and down before he scoffed.

"You know I can tell you're lying, right?"

"W-Why would I lie?"

"For the same reason all people lie," Eren said. "To avoid what you're too scared to face," The way Eren spoke made everything feel much, much worse. A heavy amount of disrespect originated from this new flesh of conceit that Eren displayed on full. He had always been one to boast, but never in the form he showed in the present.

Listening to his slander any longer was something you simply couldn't handle. Not today, anyway. Fatigue was starting to claim control over your thought process, emotionally drained from talking to Eren. He had selfishly left you in a constant state of confusion and agony, making you ask yourself more questions than answering them. It utterly and totally sucked, being honest, and you had no clue where your relationship stood. Was it over? Were you still even together? Had he even seen you both as a couple this entire time or was it all just a big lie?

"So what were you trying to avoid when you spent all those months lying to us?" You were tempted to leave without another word said, but you knew you'd regret not asking your question. Which had popped into your head at the last moment as you pondered on Eren's words. Using them against you seemed to strike a nerve, as when you expected Eren to talk he did no such thing. Instead, he glared at you for being caught out, prompting your next words to follow. "I'll... I'll see you later, Eren,"

And with that, you started walking away.

You did everything in your power to not look back, focusing your gaze on the exit that was a little way ahead. Eren's stare etched itself into your back on the way out, leaving an even deeper wound than before which would probably scar for sure. Your footsteps dragged across the floor like you hauled twice your body weight behind you. Walking upstairs had never been such a demanding challenge before in your life. To think that you possessed the energy to traverse the walls but absolutely none to conquer thirteen mediocre steps.

You made it around ten steps up, just about to reach out for the door handle - when Eren's voice finally filled the room again. It brought your rushed exit to a halt with ease, much to your dismay, and what he had to say did nothing to help your situation.

"Who's to say I ever lied?"

Your heart both soared and sank at the same time, the conflict in your head skyrocketing as your thoughts drove you mad. What did Eren mean by that? Lie about what exactly? It was the way his words were always so devoid of clarity that hurt the most. The brunette was exceedingly blunt yet always left you inquiring more, prying further until it was too late. A mind game that pulled you in and kept you playing. You admittedly almost swayed.

But so close to the door, your hand wavering in the air just begging to open it - it was enough to prevent such a thing a happening. You knew if you headed back it would be the end, you would somehow get more hurt than you already had. It was a risky move you didn't want to place your bets on, you had come too far to be foolish.

So taking a deep breath you reached out for the handle and gripped it tight. You turned the knob and braced yourself to leave, blocking Eren from your mind as you lifted your foot to the eleventh step. Then the twelfth. Then the thirteenth, and finally onto the floor above the jail cells.

Closing that door behind you felt like the freshest of cleanses, your body sighing out in relief when it clicked shut.

Sadly though, you didn't have time to celebrate. The whole encounter surely caught up with you, as did the tears you had been saving for when you were finally alone. Just like they guaranteed, the hot, salty liquid singed the corners of your eyes and the tears returned. Before you could do anything, a cry broke out and you staggered until your back hit the door. The hinges jolted loudly, most likely attracting the attention of someone nearby. Whether it be a guard around the corner or one of your friends in search of your location. Maybe even Hange or Levi coming to check up on you. Whichever it was, they were in for a shock.

Your heart raced with anxiety, mind and body overwhelmed by inner turmoil that made you sick to your gut. The nausea was so bad you had to hold your stomach with your spare arm, fighting the urge to violently vomit all whilst controlling your reckless sobs that didn't cease their slander. Your vision went blurry from how much you broke down, unable to blink the tears away no matter your efforts.

Fearing the unknown had always been a part of who you were. But had somewhat simmered down as you grew older and developed mentally through being a soldier. However, all that progress reversed in an instant as your mind flashed back to the thought of Eren. How someone who used to possess so much passion now resorted to an empty vessel. The way he admitted to your insignificance with such little struggle, only to proceed to confuse you even more by implying he had never told a single lie. Was he even talking about you when he said that? Or something else completely unrelated?

A little bit of confirmation wouldn't hurt anybody.

It was odd to have Eren be the reason for your tears after so many years of him typically being the one to dry them off your face. Though thinking about it, he had been the leading cause for a lot of things as of late. The number a very concerning amount indeed. You barely even recognised him anymore. The once caring soul you fell in love with was no longer there, replaced with a man who had discovered the bittersweet lust for power based on a corrupted idealogy. Such a ruthless lust that it no longer mattered how that idealogy came to be, just as long as he managed to taste an essence of it.

You hated it. You hated that of all people it was Eren who tumbled down that drain. How did you allow yourself to fall in love with someone so possible of committing such atrocities? To worship him and give him everything you had, only to be told it was all for nothing and you were fighting a losing battle. You knew it was hopeless to hold on and believe that your Eren might return but at this rate that seemed unattainable. Not after witnessing him firsthand. The only thing left now was to move on and pray the world was on your side.

Part of you didn't want to move on though, so familiar with Eren as your crutch that a world without him sounded terrifying. You had grown so used to his presence in your life that all of this still felt so surreal no matter the fact you were very much living in it. Living in an endless hell that never allowed anyone a moment's peace. Not you. Not even Eren. Not a single human being on the planet. Nobody.

Just... where along the line had it all gone so painfully wrong?

[galaxyedging]

Mentions of stalking, injuries, swearing. It will gets worse so let's start as we mean to go on...🔞.

So I wrote something with Moon Knight. Am used to writing, well trying to write, 'American' so this gets real British in parts.

Nice to Meet You

The cold was bitter. It stung your cheeks as you made your way down the street. The sun shone brightly, proudly displaying it's deception. A few weeks ago it warmed you skin with promises of sundresses and BBQ's just around the corner. Now it highlighting your breath in the air.

Too caught up in your personal grudge with the sun, you didn't realise you were staring at the man across the road. In the few brief seconds between your realisation and your bus turning up to block your view, you noticed his was staring at you. The intensity of it shook you. There was something familiar about him. Placing him could take some time. Between living in one of the busiest cities in the world, working at a hospital and your travels, he could have crossed your path in a number of places. Boarding the bus, the man was no longer your top priority. That slot was now occupied with trying to find somewhere to stand where you wouldn't be 'accidentally' touched or barged into at every stop and start of the bus.

Twelve hours later you made the same trip back. The night bus was quiet. Just you, a older man in work gear, hi vis vest and dirty pants, and a girl in her early twenties, maybe? There had been a silent conversation between the two of you when you got on. Her gaze let you know to be cautious. The man was quiet but he reeked of booze. You sat in the seat behind her. Turning unsteadily in his seat his glassy gaze flitted between the two of you. "It's a nice night for it." He slurred in the direction of you both. Both of you knew better than to answer him. The younger woman didn't realise outright ignoring him wasn't a great option either. While you had given him a slight non committal nod, she had turned away. Zeroing on her he leaned forward. "Smile love, it may never happen." She turned her head to him offering him a weak smile. Another misstep. He took her smile as an invitation. As he stood making a move to approach her, you quickly moved to the seat next to her. It all happened so fast, in his drunken state, he couldn't quite work out how to react. Some sort of response bubbled up in his throat but before he could voice it, the three of you were thrown forward as the bus driver slammed on the breaks. The drunk grabbed the bar to steady himself. You braced yourself on the seat in front. The girl threw her arm out latching on to you in a panic. The bus came to a halt, throwing you all back again. "Are you okay?" You asked her squeezing her hand when she nodded. Sparing a glance at the drunk to see he was fine, you moved to check on the driver who was currently beeping his horn at the man stood in the road. "Bleeding dickhead, upended his bike, now he's just stood there." In the headlights you could see a man stood over a motor bike. Only when he righted the bike and climbed on it did you see his face. It was the man from this morning. Same outfit, he didn't wear a helmet so you could see his curls across his forehead. He was handsome too, that made him hard to mistake. There was no doubt in your mind it was him. Without thinking you pressed the emergency door release and jumped off the bus. As you approach his brought the bike to life, swung it in the opposite direction and peeled off.

Your small flat was usually your haven. The florist underneath you only opened during normal business hours. Even when it was open there was hardly any noise. They only indication that the business was there most days was the slight fragrance of fresh cut flowers wafting through your window. The buildings either side used their first floor as storage rather than a living space so there were no neighbours to bother you or for you to disturb. Tonight, that felt rather isolating. No one to bother you but also no one to notice you. To protect you. The intensity of the man's gaze played over in your mind. If he had looked at you in a bar like that you would have expected him to waste no time chatting you up. The way his eyes were on you like you were his only focus. His only goal. A man like that would definitely lead the conversation, with his desire thinnly hidden. His only options, to leave with your number or with you. The line between you being freaked out by today's events and thrilled by them was beginning to blear. Coincidence, that's all it was. An intense stranger taking the same route as you to work. The change in your shift patterns causing your commutes to suddenly overlap, that's all. Still, he left a buzz under your skin. Whatever it was you decided on a shower and some intimate care from your shower head would help you unwind. Cleaned up and relaxed enough to sleep, you drifted off without a second thought to the man. Well, maybe one or two.

Monday meant the late shift for you again. The day was in full swing by the time you woke. Traffic hummed outside. The bakery down the road called your name as you unfurled, rolling the heavy layer of sleep from you. It took a moment to decide if a salt beef bagel was worth leaving your warm bed. Your stomach overuled your head's reminders of the traitorous sun. Wrapping the quilt around, resembling a 2.5 tog sausage roll, you made your way to the kitchen, filled and switched the kettle on. The sun reflected off the cars outside, bright, hopefully warm. The UK whether was certainly diverse. It didn't shy away from throwing all four seasons at you in one day. Just because the spring sun was rising, mimicking summer didn't mean a crisp Autumn breeze wasn't about to hit you as you open your window. Wrapping the cover tighter around you didn't protect you from what you were hit with. Him. Running down the street, calling for the bus to stop. His movements were less purposeful, his hair and outfit more dishevelled but it was definitely him. Steam rose from the travel mug in his hand. Assuming he made it at home, he mustn't have travel far. Mystery solved. He lived around here. Before you must have just kept different hours.

The bagel filling a hole in your belly, you finished your second cup of tea, sent a quick text to your mum then got ready, as you ever could, for another shift at A&E.

Seven hours in, the night had been relatively straightforward. More emergencies than accidents. A few people for you to stabilise before sending to the departments best suited to handle them. One stabbing. A heart attack. One car accident. Lots of triarging, turning away a couple of people just looking for some free drugs, finding support for a man just looking for a warm bed for the night. One accidental marbel up the nose, which would have been easier to deal with had it been a child, not a grown man on a dare. One partially severed finger that served as a remind to always grab a takeaway, rather than cook yourself, when you come home drunk and hungry.

Fresh from your break a new patient was wheeled in. He was strapped to a back board, neck collar in place. The paramedics with him were arguing with each other when you walked in. The nurse tried to keep the peace as they all worked on the man, cutting his clothes to get to his limbs and chest.

"What is going on?!" You bellowed over them. One of the paramedics turned to you. Shawna had worked here for years. She'd worked some tough jobs with you. Handed you people barely clinging to life, kids included. You had to be strong to do that job. The look on her face chilled you. She was afraid. Her lips moved several times to speak but nothing meaningful came out. In the end she just moved to let you see the patient. Seeing his face left you not much better off than Shawna. Him. Again. How? Living nearby was one thing but seeing him three times in two days and him ended up in your hospital, with other hospitals closer to your home, on your shift. The thought of him stalking you turned your stomach. Fuck. Get it together. "What am I looking at?"

"All his bones were broken." The other paramedic, Gary, almost whispered reverently.

"What? Were?" Looking at his exposed arm, you saw what Gary was referring to. As you looked the bone pressing against the surface of moved under his skin. His fingers, bent at unnatural angles, straightened. His ribs gluing back together caused his skin to ripple. This all proved too much for Gary, who ran from the room. Good instincts, you thought. "Everyone, get out. Shawna, send security." Transfixed by the man's recovery you barely registered them leaving. After a minute or two or thirty, time, like a lot of constructs suddenly had no meaning, the man began to regain consciousness. His hand found your arm. "Look...look after him. I...I can't...can't stay. He needs you." Before you could respond his hand dropped away. Checking his pulse you decide to undo the neck collar, apparently he didn't need it. As you were leaned over his his eyes shot open. He thrashed around in a blind panic, pulling on the boards restraints. "What happened? I can't move. Where am I? I don't remember. I..."

"You're at the hospital. You had an accident..." Security arrived. You nodded for them to stay back. "...you're safe." He began to calm down.

"Safe." He repeated.

"Yes. What's your name?"

"St..Steven. With a 'V'."

"Nice to meet you, Steven with a 'V'."

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy

I know it's not a Pedro character work but I added you guys anyway. Just let me know if you want to be removed from this or my main taglist.💕

[shyrose57]

So what exactly happened to Ranbob after Ran left Mizu? Warning for brief mentions of graphic material, though its kept undescriptive. 

About a day after Ran left, Ranbob woke up. He woke up on the floor, confused to all hell. Because last he checked he fell asleep in his bed. He doesnt know the fact that Dream took over his body and mind for the last month. He doesnt know what he's done. So he looks around, confused as to why there's no one around. He looks in the school, no one, he looks in the training grounds, no one, He continues to look until he decides to head home, hoping his brother or sister will be there to explain what happened and where everyone is. He's expecting to see his family in the living room, maybe playing a game or just talking. Instead he walks in to see no one there and the house is dead quiet. The quiet unnerves Ranbob, he almost considers turning around. But he pushes on and visits Lias and Memi's room, his heart stops upon seeing their bodies both in different positions. He almost throws up before running out of the room. He checks his parents room to see the same scene, then he just books it out of the house. Running aimlessly. As he runs he finds more bodies, either in the cafeteria where they died from poison or outside homes and stores where they were clearly attacked. He continues to run, trying to get away from everything and the sudden weight on his shoulders. He fails. 

He eventually finds himself in the room Dreams mask is kept in, he suddenly feels a sense of dread and finds himself flung back into the recesses of his mind, coming face to face with Dream. Dream doesnt say anything and just stares at Ranbob. The two just stare at each other for a bit with complete silence, with the exception of a dripping noise. Ranbob looks around aiming to find the source of the noise, he doesnt find it until he looks towards Dream again and spots what looks to be blood dripping from a dagger at his belt. Ranbob freaks out then and starts to rip into him, demanding to know whats happened, that Dream promised to help him. As Ranbob questions him Dream starts to smile. He then simply responds with "I did help you. I got rid of all sources of your stress. Or, should I say, you got rid of them." That makes Ranbob freeze, and as he slowly processes that Dream killed everyone wearing his skin, he gets thrown back into the real world. He eventually registers whats happened as he killed everyone. So he screams. He keeps screaming until he can't and is choking on air as he trys to keep screaming. Then he cries, the tears burning a line through his skin until he has no tears left, them he's left grasping at his unkempt hair trying to ground himself and stop his panic. He fails and eventually collapses from emotional exhaustion. 

As time passes the pain from what he did doesnt fade, and Dream taunting him about it doesnt help. Dream takes control of Ranbobs body daily, he's actually in control more often than Ranbob himself. Because Dream isn't used to being in a actual body, he doesn't eat or drink when he should. Which causes Ranbob to gradually get thinner and thinner. He's actually still supposed to be growing during this time, since enderman hybrids typically stop growing in their 20s (give or take a few years). But due to malnourishment and dehydration he just stops growing, which is why, when compared to his brother, he's so short (Ran is 6'8 currently, Ranbob is 6'2 currently. Before they met up again Ran was 6'7 and Ranbob 6'0).

When the Fishermen arrived to Mizu, Benjamin and Isaac felt that something was off, but continued on. When they met Ranbob, Dream was still in control. During the tour the odd feeling Benjamin and Isaac have just grow more and more. When Ranbob attacks them, they manage to knock him down and pin him down. When he's knocked down the sudden impact seems to knock something lose, in both his mind and a item. A part of the Dream mask gets free of its place in Ranbobs pocket and skits across the ground. While the sudden impact knocks Dream from his pedestal in Ranbobs mind and gives Ranbob himself a opening to take control. And he takes it. He takes control but isn't able to say anything before the Fishermen haul him up and locking him in a room. Because the Dream shard is away from Ranbob, he's finally able to breath and think for himself. Benjamin, Isaac, and Charles typically vist him and give him food and water. But Benjamin often stays longer and takes time to talk to him. Over the span of a week the two get closer and Ranbob is able to tell his story, Benjamin believes him, due to the evidence he's seen. It takes time but Benjamin manages to convince the rest (mostly) to let Ranbob out and to listen to him. Cletus though refuses to listen to him and demands more proof. So Ranbob, very hesitantly, takes the group to Dreams Idol Statue deep in Mizu. When they get there Ranbob almost immediately becomes distressed, as in his head he's attempting to maintain his own mind and body as Dream attempts to take his puppet back. He grabs at his head, repeatedly saying no and stop it. The group doesn't notice this at first because their busy looking around. But when a sudden scream grabs their attention Benjamin jumps into action, grabbing Ranbob, and attempting to drag him out of the room. As Ranbob gets dragged out he screams for Dream to stop. The fishermen plus Ranbob later meet and Ranbob shares (almost) his life story. Cletus still believes this is just a act, but is out numbered by the others wanting to take Ranbob back to their home to help him heal. 

Stuff I couldn't fit in:

-Ranbob has nightmares constantly about what he's done.

-Ranbob sees Dreams smile in random objects (like water, food, trees) that don't even slightly resemble it. 

-Ranbob gained 2 inches in height only after the Fishermen rescued him and gave him regular and healthy meals. 

-Ranbob thinks Ran is dead. Although deep down he wants to believe his brother is alive.

--------------Questions---------------

When Ran figured out who was doing the killings, he immediately headed out to find the last Counsel member and find Ranbob. But on his way out something screamed at him to grab the book and items that where either given to him as part of his Technoblade Idol training, or given as a gift. He decided to listen to this feeling and grabbed the items before he headed out. 

He is good with enderman as enderman tend to leave him alone so he leaves them alone. He despises spiders because they tend to get into his sleeping/safe spots and are quiet as hell so they tend to sneak up on him. Skeletons and Zombies are just a annoyance and he's typically able to easily deal with them. Stays are a pain because of the slowness arrows they have and whenever they hit him he gets slow as well as groggy. He avoids creepers cause he doesnt see the worth in killing them. 

They are aware! Grievous made a potion mix of slowness, weakness, and a tiny pinch of regeneration (to contradict the biggest negative effects of weakness) to try to help Ran sleep. When Ran first opened up to the group about his paranoia Jackie offered to sleep with him if his paranoia stops him from relaxing enough to sleep. And Watson made a gesture and keyword that Ran just has to either speak or do for Watson to follow him and stay close to him when his paranoia gets to much to handle on his own. But even though Ran told them about his paranoia, he's reluctant to accept help from the others, funnily enough, due to his paranoia.

He does eventual, him staying there actually took him by surprise cause he thought he was only going to be there for like a week, next thing he knows 4 weeks have passed and no ones found him. So he fixes up his shelter and makes it more of a actual shelter against the snow and cold. Nothing really happens, which is a welcome change to Ran because he's so used to so much going on. He does end up having to fight a polar bear because it tried stealing his recent hunt. But other than that and a tree falling down in the middle of the night and barely missing his shelter, nothing really happens. 

It was actually a main playing factor in his paranoia and trust issues. 

A chapter in his book is dedicated to the Nether, and Ran, looking to escape his pursuers in a pinch, decides on a whim to try out this "Nether" thing. When he first arrives, the heat and sudden surrounding change shocks him, cause he didnt actually read that chapter of the book. He builds into the side of a hill to avoid hoglins, he doesnt have much in there except for chests with a bunch of different stuff, brewing stands, maps, and weapons. The piglins originally think of him as just a regular traveler from the other world, but slowly start to think of him in a more positive way. As Ran often stops by to give them left over gold and other trinkets he no longer needs for nothing in return. Plus he accidentally saves a baby piglin after he heard hoglins throwing a fit and decided to take the chance to hunt, he only saw the piglin after he killed the hoglins and brought it back to the nearby Bastion. Which immediately boosted the piglins option of Ran. Ran himself was cautious of the piglins, even after Ran saved the baby piglin, he knows better than to completely relax around them. Nether life leads to him relaxing a bit more than he normally would (which he'd later regret after he leaves because the hunters get a jump on him because he was too relaxed) and learning to watch where he steps, cause more than twice Ran tripped in the Nether and got to close to lava or magma blocks for his comfort. 

They where found by the group that dared to travel into the snow and chase him. They took almost every item there before burning down his house, giving Ran nowhere to return too. And they don't visit any of his homes purposely, they did run across his burned snow home, but they didn't stay long because Ran knew/thought there was nothing left.

The Gladiator group is understanding, as they know this is probably how he was when he was living out in the wild. And its understandable for him to regress back into this protective personality when faced with the same location he developed it in. The fishermen are put off by this sudden attitude change. But with possible explanations from the Gladiators and encouragement they eventually get used to it. 

The fishermen are mad and relieved. Their relieved it didn't actually hurt Ranbob. But are mad that it happened. Cletus was very close to vaulting over the edge of the arena and knocking Ran into the water surrounding the arena. Something I wanna add even though you didn't ask, when Ranbob was pinned down he didn't feel angry, he felt broken because he just found his brother! His brother who he thought died! And now said brother is trying to kill him. His brother hated him so much, but Ranbob thought he deserved this and resigned himself to die (though Ran never made direct moves to attack him and instead used the time to yell at him). The weapon gets properly disposed of, like it was supposed to be at the start. 

----------TotI----------

I don't remember if I mentioned it before either tbh but yes its his watch that caused the Travelers to arrive.

Its suspected either the Egg or Dream XD wrote the book. Some say its the Egg because its talking about its plans in the book. Others say its Dream XD and this may be a research type book the God was writing when it first encountered the Egg. The egg only has connection to the Travelers from The Masquerade and even then its either faint or non-existent due to the Travelers extended distance from the Egg (after the murders Billiam and Butler decided to move to a new mansion as suspension was starting to catch up to them. The Egg didn't come so its hold on them faded until it disappeared.)

Not particularly well. They go through multiple plans all with some success but ultimately failing. Eventually they narrow it down to the Eggpire repeatedly getting in the way and sabotaging their things during battle and the Egg being unable to be damaged forever. So they decide to get a piece of the Egg's shell that got broken off and experiment on it. The members of the Eggpire don't really care (or, Bad does. But he act like he doesnt) that the Egg uses their lives as nothing but entertainment and continue to fight to defend the Egg. 

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

Yes! When he was first rescued and was hell bent on somehow paying them back he always farmed for them. And even before he'd have to farm in Mizu to survive.

Ran no like socializing. Especially when its with royals or rich people.

MORE FLUFF, IMA TRY TO MAKE THIS A DAILY THING BUT NO PROMISES:

-Cletus started a game of tag and eventually it grew to involve everyone, and it increased to 2 taggers. One time Ran and Jackie where it, Ran was banned from teleporting cause its cheating, so instead he threw Jackie the entire time.

-Ran has his first celebrated birthday in years! (He didn't tell The Pit group about his birthday cause he didn't want too, but Ranbob eventually spilled its date to them.)

-Ran loves to have people guess the brothers age and seeing the surprise on their face when he tell them their actual age. 

-Benjamin is very much Ranbobs father figure.

-Sleepovers happen often :)

Brothers AU:

Oh, poor Ranbob. So he and Dream are able to kind of 'see' each other? How does that work? Might've asked this before, but what's Ranbob up to, when Dream's in control?

He'd be short for an Endermen then? Did it permanently stunt his growth? How does Ran feel about that, and does anyone else notice this, considering the rarity of hybrids?

Did Ranbob have a piece of the mask with him when Dream originally took control? How did he acquire it? I can't imagine a historian-to-be would be to eager to break something considered an artifact, after all? What did he and Benjamin talk about when he was with him?

Are there any differences to the Dream Room? Seeing as this Ranbob isn't fond enough of him to maintain it, and Dream might not consider it important enough-or does he?

Actually, what did they even do down there, with everyone dead? What purpose did Dream even have for having control of Ranbob's body so often?

Cletus thought it to be an act? Similar to what Ran thought originally, huh? Anything come from that?

--------

Poor Ranbob, for the majority of these things.

Good for him on the inches though.

-------

Again, can't remember if this was asked before, but Ran figured out who did the killings? Was he going to confront his brother-or did he just think he figured it out, and had it wrong? What was the origin of the feeling? Just a gut-feeling?

Spiders are the worst, so that's understandable. Why are creepers in particular such a hassle for him?

Are potion mixtures common? What mixtures/potions do the groups use most often? And seems Grievous is the main potion-handler, why's that?

Ah, irony.

Ran really walked into a freezing cold biome and went 'where are all the people?', huh? Also, who even fights a polar bear, the mad man.

Okay, so from what I remember, not too many people traversed the Nether nowadays(or didn't know about it?? I have no idea, there's so many posts, I can't the answer), so why was it in a not-so-helpful survival guide? Where'd he even get the book? It also makes me want to ask world-buildings questions about Mizu, but we're here to traumatize the people, so I'll hold off.

Ran is now a piglin favorite, good for him, he needs some allies. Where'd he get the gold, considering his life on the run? Did he make any specific piglin friends/allies? How'd the hunters find him there? How did they access the Nether?

The gang's thoughts on his little snow home remainders?

Cletus goes from Number One Ranbob hater to president of the Ranbob protection club, we have it here, folks. Also, poor Ranbob. Poor everyone, really, they're just going through it.

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

Tip Of The Iceberg AU:

Oh, XD's getting involved? That's interesting. Does he have any of his own connections with the travelers? How do the Egg-effected feel, having been broken free of it for awhile, only to find themselves toyed with by it again? Who says XD wrote the book, and who says the Egg, and why?

So they're fighting the Eggpire? Who's on the frontlines? What're the others doing? How strong is the Egg at this point? Is it a genuine threat, and do they have to keep away from it, or is it only an issue because it has the Eggpire to defend it? Bad cares? Is he not as under it's influence as the others, or something else?

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

Brothers AU(?)

That must've been an interesting experience. How did they react to that, considering Ranbob's not-so-healthy state? Or did he only start doing it once he was more stable on his feet?

....Doesn't...doesn't he work for an Emperor tho? But yeah, understandable.

I'll take what I can get!!

That tag sounds both hilarious and terrifying. Imagine being the fishermen and having one of the gladiators picked up and launched at you like a football-and then possibly the other one charging toward you. Like, if that's not motivation to run, what is?

Aww, good for him.

Okay, yeah, that'd definitely be funny. Ran forgave Ranbob and immediately chose mischief, huh?

Fishermen Benjamin pulls a Philza Minecraft, more at eight.

Very good!

-------

Have a good week!

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ TWO ROADS ❜

with Canche and Obispo ‘Bishop’ Losa.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 2k.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

“Please, don't do that. Let me go”. With both hands raised to the man, you tried to push him away.

“No”. He just said with a naughty smile drawn on his lips, before grabbing your wrists to lift you up over his shoulder like a heavy bag, walking to the main room of the house.

“Let me go!” You shouted stirring over him, until you felt your body falling down over the mattress.

Sitting up on your forearms, you blow into a rebellious tuft of hair in the middle of your face, frowning. You couldn't barely breathe because of the efforts, watching the man crawling above the bed.

“I swear I'm gonna kill you”.

“Will you?” He asked, twisting his neck slightly, pouncing on you to tickle you on both sides.

“Canche, stop!” You screamed between laughs, trying to catch his hands while he made himself some space between your legs.

“C'mon, five minutes more, princesa de los Mayas”. The mexican surrounded you with his strong arms, resting his face on your stomach.

“My father is gonna kill us, if he finds out”.

“Just five minutes more”. He begged almost in a whisper, closing his eyes.

“I hate you”. You growled rolling your eyes, pretending that you didn't want to spend some time more together.

“I'm glad to know that it's something reciprocated”. The Mayan muttered, moving some inches until reaching your lips.

Tangling your legs with his and placing your hands on his head, you deepened the kiss, keeping the slow pace but welcoming his tongue inside your mouth. Every time you were this close, he had the same effect on you like the first time, bristling your skin and needing for more. You could assure that he was so in love with you, as you were with him. And you would like to shout it to the rooftops. But that wasn't an option. Not for the moment, at least.

“I know that… you can't call me”. You said caressing his neck with one of your hands, using your nails to made him some sweet tickles. “But… two weeks is too much. Maybe… I don't know… a text, to know that you're okay”.

“I will try, mi amor. I swear it”. He replied with a low tone of voice, accommodating his head on the pillow. “And when I come back, we will disappear for some days. We can go to the beach, if you want”.

“Sounds good, yeah”. You nodded assorted on the way of his lips moving, totally spellbound hearing his voice.

The man took back his hands to undone the clasp of the fine gold chain, with a small medal of the Virgen de Guadalupe. Silent, and very focused on his new task, he placed it around your neck. You knew how much he loved that necklace, being a gift from his mother who passed away some years ago. Giving it to you meant more than anyone could imagine, and you would swear you were about to cry if he hasn't kissed you again.

You have never been a believer, but you started to pray every night for him, to keep him safe and alive. It has been two long weeks, with a trip that started in Southern Cali to Stockton and Oakland, continuing to Portland. And after that, back to Santo Padre. One of the trips more dangerous of Mayans history, with a shipment of AK-47, even if they were accompanied by some SOA charters. But the day of their return has come and, with it, all your men. At least, you know it when you see through the front window of your car all the bikes parked there. The first you find is your father's. Next to it, Canche's.

Almost jumping out from your seat, you run like never before to the inside of the clubhouse. But the situation that welcomes you is chaotic. You open the door on time to watch Bishop tackling your boyfriend. A storm of hits and kicks is around everywhere, while the other Mayans stare at you almost frowning. You don't need to be a genius to know what is happening. Grabbing Ibarra's gun, being aware that no one is going to stop the fight, you point at the roof to fire it. The bullet impacting on it, calls everyone's attention. The two men on the floor are breathing violently, blood on their faces and angry gestures. Then, you point at them.

“The next one throwing a punch, juro por la Virgen that I'm gonna shot his brain off”.

The men separate from each other, standing up over their feet and shaking their clothes.

“How much time have you been together?” Your father asks, cleaning a brief red thread flowing from his bottom lip. His eyes are filled with rage.

“Why does it matter, dad?”

“Because I asked you for one last thing, and you shitted on it”.

“Do you think I made it on purpose? That I chose it?”

“You betrayed me. And you lied to me”.

“For God's sake… Ain't gonna talk about it in front of all these men”.

“We don't have anything else to talk about. You already took a decision”.

You just nod, one time. Stretching your arm to Ibarra, you give him back his gun.

“Doing the same shit that your mother did”.

His whisper doesn't go unnoticed to your ears, taking a step ahead when he's about to unlock himself inside the Templo.

“You pushed mom away, just like you are doing with me. If you are alone, if you are losing the only people who really love you, it's because of you, padre. Because of your jealousy, because of your inflexibility, because of your egocentrism complex”.

Bishop doesn't turn, but suddenly stops his heavy feet.

“(Y/N), don't talk to your father like that”. Canche says, frowning at you.

“Truth fucks you up, right?” You say raising your chin. “Love doesn't mean to hurt, dad. And sometimes I feel that you stab my chest. That you suffocate me. I feel alone the whole time, and you don't really know what it feels like, because I'm always by your side. But you weren't for me when I needed you the most. So don't blame me for choosing a man who cares about me, without asking anything back, over you”.

It has been the worst weeks of your life. You were sure that you were suddenly and inevitably falling into a dark depression, when you realized that you haven't gone out of Canche's house since you came. Mostly, you are tucked in his bed, grabbing the pillow as strongly as you can, wetting it with your tormented tears. A prospect was accompanying you all the time that your boyfriend was away from your side.

“How is the kid?”

Taza gets up from his chair, before Canche can leave the Templo. He turns around crossing his arms over his chest.

“Who asks?”

No one replies.

“She isn't happy, if you wanna know it”. His eyes are on Bishop's. “She cries most of the day. Hardly eats anything. And I can't remember how her laugh sounds”.

Your boyfriend is about to continue his steps, but he stops again.

“And I had to take her to the hospital some days ago, because she has a panic attack”.

“Maybe if you di—”.

“Don't you dare to add me in your equation, Bishop. This is your fault, not mine. I care about her. I love her. And I want to spend my life with her. I'm not trying to steal your daughter from you. I'm not asking her to leave you. I was even about to delegate my position as Presidente, and ask for a change of charter to be close to her. To come to Santo Padre, so she wouldn't have to leave her family”. His voice sounds firmly, blunt. “You are losing your daughter because of you, not because of me”.

Canche doesn't want to waste more time, having a road of one hour and a half to his house. The only thing he wants right now is come back, be with you, and try to comfort your pain somehow. So he doesn't notice that the crew follows him to the outside, in the meantime that he reaches his motorcycle.

His way back home feels like an eternity, parking in front of the porch, and almost jumping out from the top of it. The prospect is waiting close to the door, shrugging his shoulders to let him know that nothing has changed. You heard the door getting opened, turning your head over the pillow, watching him coming into the room. You would like to smile, as every time you see him, but it's like if your brain doesn't send the order to your lips. Lying down and embracing you over the mattress, filling your face with a bunch of kisses.

“I've missed you, mi vida”. He whispers onto your lips, before caressing them. “I took a day off, so I will be here with you the whole time”.

You can't help but sink your face under his chin, letting him hold you tightly. That's the only moment you feel somewhat better, knowing that he's not going to kick out your ass. Knowing that he loves you unconditionally.

“How was him?” You whisper.

“Fucked like you”. He just replies, kissing your head. “But I know that he's going to come today, you will see. I know it”.

He wasn't wrong. Actually, Canche is never wrong. You suddenly wake up because of the loud roar of an engine. It's coming closer, accentuating over others behind it. The bed is empty, and the room is almost in darkness. Rubbing your eyes with your knuckles, you get up from the mattress, guiding your steps to the living room as soon as you hear your boyfriend greeting your father. Sticking your head out the corner of the hallway, your eyes find him before anyone else there. He looks like shit. His beard is longer, scruffy. The two black marks under his eyes tell you that he hasn't slept much more than you.

Canche moves his head in silence, indicating the crew to leave the house, so you would have some intimacy and time alone. Bishop takes a step ahead, trying to reach you, trying to say something. But he can't. Doubting, he walks a little closer. Slowly. Hoping that you don't turn him down. Raising a hand towards your left, he holds it to push you into his arms. Surrounding your body, he hugs you with that kind of love and warmth that only your father can transmit you. All the sadness and the pain has gone. The fear of losing him, inside your chest, isn't oppressing it anymore.

“I'm sorry”. He says in a whisper, tightening his grip around you.

“Me too…”

“You don't have to, because you were right. This is my fault, mi princesa”.

He pulls himself away from you, enough to find your reddened eyes, about to cry again.

“I know you have to leave the nest, but I'm not ready. And I will never be. But if you have to do it, I'm good knowing that Canche is by your side”.

Leaning, your father kisses your forehead, pressing his lips on it for some long seconds.

“Just let me take care of you tonight, please”.

You just nod in silence. You couldn't say ‘no’. You need him, you didn't know it could be this hard to live without him. It's not the same when he's on a trip, than when he's just away from you. Closing your arms around him, you hide your face on his chest, like you used to do when you were a child waking up from a nightmare.

“I will always love you, pa'. No matter who else is in my life. I will always love you more than anyone”.

“I know, princesa. I do. And I will always do it”.

[daniyasocspace]

TELL ME WHY PART 1/3

Summary: Majesty was determined to find a loophole in his contract so that he could be with Bom again without risking ruining his family financially.

Featuring: Majesty and various members of 2FOLD and DIVIN3.

Mentions Bom of @starlightoffical

Majesty was in a daze as he went through the routine for the millionth time that day. He was drenched in sweat, his hair a mess as he stared intensely at the mirror. 2FOLDS latest comeback was playing and he couldn't help but feel a tinge of anger as he focused on the music. His heart was broken and his mind had gone numb at that point.

Mr. Ho noticed how distracted he had been during practice the weeks prior and it had caused issues for the group. They had to restart numerous times when Majesty messed up the choreography because his mind was wandering to Bom. He had been late to a few vocal recording sessions because he had been out on dates with her. Nearly half the artists at the company were in relationships yet he seemed to be the only one who couldn’t manage his time better. Granted, his group hadn't been very active save for some members doing small solo projects.

So when the CEO brought up his breach in contract, he was given the option to either break up with her or face crippling debt. Since he was a minor when he signed it, his parents co-signed. That meant they would also take on the burden of the debt. There was no way they’d be able to handle it - they had given up a lot to send him to Korea to achieve his dreams. His family was fairly poor as it is and him being a Rookie meant he earned peanuts. 

Majesty had a plan but it was going to be tricky to work around it. First, he needed a good lawyer. Jaeyoung was willing to help him but that would take time since they had to scour every little bit of that contract to find a loophole.

He froze mid-dance, staring at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t stop thinking about Boms face when he told her - a brief flash of panic in her eyes before she quickly composed herself, being the stoic person she was. it just reminded him how much he admired her even more with her ability to keep cool and confident.

“Hyung, you need to take it easy!” A voice spoke up which startled Majesty. He spun around to see Siwoo standing in the doorway, a look of concern on his face. 

“I don’t want to.” Majesty huffed, getting even more annoyed as their comeback song droned on. It reminded him of Bom. He helped write the lyrics for it and he had her in mind, of course.

"You're going to pass out of you don't take a rest. Have you eaten anything today?" Siwoo was normally the jokester and him and majesty were known as "dumb and dumber" because of their foolish antics when together. But seeing his member and best friend like this worried him.

Majesty shrugged, groaning as he stalked over to the stereo and turned the song off. Siwoo pouts as he watches him. "I'll treat you to dinner. Please, Hyung? She'd want you to take care of yourself."

Majesty didn't answer at first, only staring down at the ground as his chest heaved, his hands pushing back his sweat-soaked hair. "Fine." He sighs, turning to grab his things.

"Good Hyung!" Siwoo chirps happily. "But first, you take a shower. You smell like crap." He says with a chuckle as he playfully punched Majesty's arm. That got a laugh out of his Hyung to which Majesty then put the younger boy in a headlock. The two laughed before Siwoo wriggled free, groaning as he smiled. "Now you got armpit sweat all over me!" He whines as wiped the side of his face.

"That's what you get for making me smile. I'm supposed to be in badass brood mode right now." Majesty mumbles as he wipes himself with a towel before whipping Siwoo on the thigh with it.

[To be continued]

[bit-of-a-fuqboi]

Title: Running the bases

Steve was both shocked and annoyed when it was announced Billy had quit the basketball team to join the baseball team. Steve admits, reluctantly, that his annoyance has as much to do with not being able to creep on him anymore, as it has to do with the fact that their best chance of a championship is with him on their team. His shock was simply because, well, Billy had the kind of skills that made other guys envious. He was an amazing player. The kind to win championships. Real scholarship material. It just confused Steve to no end why he would throw that away.

It turned out he didn't. Word got around quickly that Billy's skill on the field was as good, if not better, as it was on the court. And Steve, well, Steve felt his annoyance only grow. Is there anything he can't do! Steve found himself silently fuming as he angrily chewed on his sandwich. 

The sudden sound of laughter, and many stomping feet, interrupted his brooding. He looks up and sees Billy for the first time since he quit—and he’s completely geared up from head to toe in the school's green and white baseball uniform.

The uniform clings to every single contour of muscle you can imagine. He struts through the quad like he owns it, and with each step Steve is hypnotized by the bulge of his biceps through the fabric and the pop of both of his pecs in his shirt. A shirt that is tucked into the tightest, sexiest pair of baseball knickers complete with green belt and green piping down the sides. His socks hug two thick, muscular calves, and he’s got on the green and white cleats. He even has on his green cap, and the dabbed eye black across the tops of his cheeks is smeared from practice. Whoa.

"You might want to pick your jaw up from the floor Harrington, you look like your about to start drooling"

Shaken from his stupor he turns to see a girl he doesn't know smirking at him, she looks familiar though… maybe we have a class together?

"No It's not! I'm not… It's not… I mean … I don't know what you mean" Yeah that's not suspicious. Great save Harrington.

"Whatever dingus" She says with a snort and walks off. Steve is sure he hears her mutter "I don't know what they see in you" as she walks away.

With a feeling, almost like panic, creeping in, Steve has a very sudden urge to escape the area before anyone else notices his weirdness. Throwing his half eaten sandwich in the bin he makes a beeline for the school.

He makes it halfway down the first corridor before he is suddenly shoved into a storage closet.

"What the actual fuck!" Steve likes to think he yelled, but suspects he screamed. High pitched and embarrassing. Fuck! Could this day get any worse.

The light switches on, and he's temporarily blinded by the brightness but as soon as his eyes adjust he's greeted by grinning Billy Hargrove. Yep, it just got worse.

"Miss me Harrington" he asks.

"Like the clap" Steve answers automatically, regretting it immediately. Steve was certain that he just escalated the situation to a fist fight, a fist fight in a small enclosed space where he is not likely to come out on top, but instead Billy just laughs. 

"I saw you checking out the new uniform." At the reminder Steve can't stop his eyes from trailing up Billy's body, but when he reaches his face he is met with an intense glare. Billy's arms are crossed and he looks about nine feet tall from Steve's corner of the closet. All those muscles... His shoulders are so broad they actually block the exit. There is no escape. Fuck! He's going to kill me, either literally or from sexual frustration, both are very real options at this point.

"So what do ya think pretty boy? Think I'll be able to slide home with how wet I'll be making the chicks at this school?" He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. No, instead he has that same invasive, hypnotizing look. The one that seems to see right through him.

To his horror Steve realises he's not scared in the least by how Billy’s looking at him. Instead, it's worse, he's turned on. Turned on by the strange intensity in Billy's eyes, by the bulges his biceps make when his arms are folded in that tight uniform, and that he could break him in half with little effort. 

"So gross dude" Steve answers, all the while silently panicking as he feels pre-cum beginning to leak and soak through his fast tightening underwear.

Billy's eyes draw down Steve's body appraisingly. He licks his lips—naturally reminding Steve that they are very much still there, and very much still plush and kissable as ever—and says "So, you ever feel up a baseball player?"

Steve freezes. He’s no longer blinking. His mouth can’t close. Steve waits for Billy to laugh it off, or maybe mock him some more but instead he takes a step closer.

Slowly, Billy brings a finger to the collar of Steve's shirt and hooks it inside. "C’mon, Harrington." Then he gives it a tug, the top button coming undone with surprising ease. "Tell me you aren't curious to know what's been driving these bitches crazy. It’s the stuff of legends, man." Steve's heart hammers away. His knees quake. "Half the writing on the bathroom walls is about what I’m packing.” Billy pops another button."Go ahead,” he coaxes, his voice silky smooth and languid, “Touch me.”

Time seemed to slow down and the world around them became blurred and unfocused. All that existed in that moment was them.They stared at each other in silence; the only sound in the closet was their ragged breathing. 

Steve made the decision, refusing to overthink, and reached out and ran his hands across Billy’s flat, muscular stomach. He was fascinated by the warm radiating through Billy's uniform. His fingers traced the hard muscles before moving to Billy’s hips. He took a moment to rub his palms over the belt, before slowly moving his hands around to the dimples of his ass in those tight pants.

It’s not lost on Steve that Billy's crotch is bulging dramatically. Holy shit; he’s getting off on this weird as fuck scenario too.

“Like how my ass feels Harrington?” he asks. 

“Yes” Steve chokes out.

“Unbuckle me.” 

Steve's didn't have to be told twice. His fingers fumble with the belt, hands shaking with excitement. Next comes the button of his pants and then the zipper, which slowly parts the dirt covered white sea of fabric to reveal his thick, hard cock enclosed in a white jock. Steve groaned at the sight. Why the fuck is he not wearing briefs? Steve looks up and Billy just cocks an eyebrow and smirks. Steve could feel his racing heartbeat pulsing in his ears. Why am I even questioning this?

Steve wraps his hand around Billy and starts to palm him through the flimsy underwear. Billy takes a shaky breath, but doesn’t do anything else. Challenge accepted motherfucker! Steve tightens his grip and picks up his pace.  

At first Billy just smiles smugly, then his breathing begins to get heavier. After a minute he’s practically panting. Steve smirks “Out of breath already Hargrove? How are you going to make it around all the bases with stamina like this?”   

Without warning Billy grasps Steve's shirt, pulls his face to his and fucking devours his mouth. Steve felt like he was just a piece of meat, a toy for Billy's own personal use. That really shouldn’t be hot. Steve realises he's now practically clawing Billy's back as Billy's reaches around to cup his ass. They’re both moaning into each other's mouth as their hips press firmly together. 

The sound of the bell ringing brings reality crashing down on Steve. It’s the middle of the day and they are on school grounds. Anyone could catch them. 

Steve breaks away from Billy and says “C’mon we need to head to class. Lunch is over. I can’t be late to biology, Mr Greene will have my ass.”

“But I want to have that ass.” Billy says as he squeezes Steve's ass cheeks. 

Steve wavers for a moment, but then Billy says "It's not like you were going to contribute, or even pay attention"

What the fuck! Steve pulls completely away and scowls. "Fuck you Hargrove"

Billy lifts an eyebrow. “Did I strike a nerve? It's not like you're known for your scholastic aptitude. I was just saying there's a better use of your time”

Steve ignores him, and buttons up his shirt.

"I really didn't mean anything by it." Billy says.

Steve just glares and shoves his way towards the door. Annoyingly the shoulder charge hurt him more than the wall of muscle previously blocking the exit.

"C'mon Harrington we didn't even get to third base" Billy jokes. 

Steve rolls his eyes, unimpressed with Billy's lame attempt to lighten the mood. Of course Billy refuses to give up. “You have a great grip, by the way.” 

"Wasn’t much to grip,” Steve shoots back. Billy grins. 

“Maybe you need another grip to remind yourself, pretty boy. I doubt you can wrap your whole hand around it.”

Steve stops with the door half open and turns to Billy. "You know, for a moment there, I almost forgot you were an asshole."

"Steve—"

"I don't want to hear it. This will never happen again" Steve says, then turns to leave. As he walks away however all he could think was "I really want it to happen again"

As he rounded the corner, Billy yells "This ain't finished Harrington.", and Steve shivers as his pulse spikes from excitement. Maybe I really am an idiot because there was no doubt it wasn't.

This was only meant to be a short thing but it got a little out of control lol The fic was inspired by someone post about a baseball au headcannon. I cannot for the life of me locate the post, if you know it please tell me and I will link.

[earamis]

Unadulterate

“You woke up to find yourself alone in the dark of night, yet the shackles were no longer gnawing on your limbs. Whether the freedom was nothing but another falsity, you didn't dare to guess. Let the presence of a certain beloved man be the anchor to your wavering conviction.”

A gender-neutral Kim Namjoon x reader fic reposted from AO3.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24620374

Jostling awake in the thick of darkness, you searched for another presence familiar before your own. Hands scrambled among the sea of fabrics only served to tangle shivering limbs further and still, the search bore you no fruit. The air was stale and cold. Your skin became damp with perspiration as the beat of your heart grew frantic. You opened your lids yet no light aided your vision. No sound was heard but the rough heaves of air from your own lungs. In this instant you froze, you realized you were alone.

Dread grounded you if only for a fraction of second. You carefully assessed the elements of your surroundings. Softness beneath your fingers was a minuscule comfort within the unknown. Your fingers grasped the sheets, so your eyes widened. The shackles previously gnawing at your limbs had been unbound. The freedom of your movements was restored. You felt your breath hitch as tears blurred your unseeing eyes. For what exact reason did they chose to dampen your eyes now, you knew not. But your muddled recollection of what had happened prior this moment gave you one dangerous thing: hope.

You remembered sounds all around. Although your eyes were blinded, your senses numbed, brash and clamorous riots and probably a thousand goings on seemed to shake you between light and dark. You heard the lull of voices, tense, full of suspense, while your consciousness too weak to process the jumbled syllables. There you laid unmoving, waiting for a rough pair of hands to lay themselves on places that weren’t meant to be touched.

All praise to a divine intervention, they never came.

Thus your memories ended, and here you were now, vision still dark, but senses sharp as can be it bordered on being overwhelming. The ring of silence turned to another offering of comfort. You took it in haste, calming your mind before braving to move. You crawled without direction. One step of a hand, one graze of a knee. Around five times of it and you reached an end. You found you were perched on a raised platform none other than a bedding. But whose, again you knew not.

You decided to test the waters by lowering one leg to brush shyly on the floor. The dreadful anticipation came back. You tried to catch any sign of something incoming, to chain you back, or to rob you of the clarity you barely had. When seconds passed bringing nothing, you lowered your other leg, slowly standing up. Your knees trembled weakly but you chose to ignore them. You took a small step, surprised to find most of your strength gone. So you fell. In the dark, the weight of you was brought down upon something unseen, and it crashed with you. The bang was too loud. That feeling of dread returned, amplified by your fear of getting caught. Your arms flailed again, desperately seeking a nonexistent leverage.

In panic the rhythmic sound of footsteps approaching was almost missed. Only when it grew loud did you managed to realize, every step taken could be a countdown to your end. Such thought plagued you. The terror of being put back in capture after this brief moment of freedom snitched your ability to think straight. Tears started to flow. Your chest heaved heavy. Those footsteps kept growing louder and closer yet you could process nothing, do nothing, and when they paused, you thought, “Oh, there goes liberty.”

A blinding light suddenly filled your retinae. You had no courage to close nor avert your gaze for fear when you do, those hands you loathed would slither around your body. There afore you, the silhouette of one man blocked that white light. Your eyes, too used to darkness, hadn’t the ability to conclude whose presence had graced you.

That silhouette moved to you, and you jerked away, ready to summon whatever strength you had left to fight it if needed. One shameful whimper escaped your lips when its hand landed on your arm.

“Hey, hey!”

Your breathing stopped. That hand wasn’t rough, and his voice was familiar.

“You’re alright. It’s me, dove, it’s just me.”

That second all the air rushed back into your lungs in a sob. The shadows had left and now you saw crystal clear. This man wasn’t whom you loathed. He was an opposite in any juxtaposition. You felt your heart clench and break at the same time. Maybe you wasn’t forsaken as had been made to believe after all. Namjoon was here, right in front of you.

“Please.”

He lowered himself further to embrace you gently, arms encircling your form. “Tell me what you need,” he whispered in your ears. “Anything. I’ll do whatever I can.”

Your hands fisted his clothes, unwilling to let go. “Please be real, please, I can’t- no- please, not another fever dream.”

The man froze, you could almost hear his heart cry. “Oh, dear, dear,” those arms wrapped even tighter, he brushed a kiss against your temple, another on your moist eyelid, and one next to your lips. “It’s not. Believe me, you’re here with me now.”

That warmth couldn’t be a lie, or so you thought. The chapters of horror had somehow ended with you back in his arms. You wept and clung harder now, in gratitude and fear of being robbed again, of this comfort, this fragile moment you had with a beloved.

“Shush…. No need to cry.”

He continued to embrace you until your sobs receded to shy hiccups and your iron grip finally began to relax. The man caressed your hair, humming a low tone to further soothe your nerves. You rested your head against his chest. The vibration of his voice was truly welcome.

“Are you alright?” Namjoon asked quietly, concerned by the state you were in. “Did you hurt yourself?”

You looked up to gaze into his eyes and shook your head. His searched deep into yours. He knew the foolishness of his question, yet still he asked. You were not all right, you were hurt badly. Darkening bruises covered your skin, your lip split, welts on where the shackles had bit you, and more on places supposedly only his privilege to touch. Another kind of pain – this one he couldn’t alleviate with drugs nor topical ointments – was brewing, filling you to almost to the brim. He didn’t understand what would be enough to protect you from such thing so unseen, but he knew with conviction, when the time came for it to spill like waterfall, he had to be there. To offer a simple comfort if nothing else.

“It’s only 3 A.M. I’ll put you to bed, okay? You must rest.”

Upon being lifted, you snaked your arms around his neck, refusing to let go even when he’d laid you gently on the mattress. “Namjoon, no! Don’t go!”

He hovered above you inelegantly. His arms caged your sides, long shanks spread apart on the edge of the bed, and his head held close to yours in a tight embrace.

“I won’t.” He turned his head to push a kiss of assurance on your cheek, noticing it had been again dampened by tears. “I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for your response, worried when you graced him with none. Instead, your form began to tremble. He instantly returned your embrace. His limbs interlocked with yours. He nuzzled the warmth of your skin, carefully soothing the bruises with the softness of his lips, then stopped at the beat of life on your jugular. His beloved was alive, though not yet well, that was all he was grateful for. Things could be worse. He could’ve been robbed also of you.

Namjoon didn’t want that, never wanted it his whole life. He hated himself for letting it happen the first time. He still did and was sure will always do. Nothing, probably not even you, could bring himself to forgive the flaw of his decisions. He could’ve done better. More men to stop the gunning, more arms to kill that ignoble lumpen, more caution, more ruthlessness, more, more, and more….

Yoongi had been right. He should have listened to his own lieutenant. You were never safe as long as you chose to stay by him. Yet despite knowing of it, he couldn’t bring himself to let you go. A selfish man he was. Every smile, every laugh, the longing only grew. How could he ever let go? Because he wouldn’t. As long as you chose to be with him, he’d never abandon.

“Namjoon….”

The hoarse call snapped him back from his reverie. “Yes?” You seemed to relax more next to his warmth. Your tears had stopped falling, leaving glimmering eyes to look at the man with pure, unadulterated trust.

“Can you…turn the lights on, please?”

The man casted a gaze upon his surroundings. He cursed himself inwardly. The room must had been pitch black the way he’d left it in. “Of course. I’m sorry, dove, I should’ve thought of that.”

Namjoon got up surprisingly without resistance from your arms. He reached to the bedside lamp to leave it on. The new lighting revealed a wooden chair knocked over on the floor, right next to where you must had fallen. He carefully pulled it back up, hesitating where he should position himself, but when he saw you barely able not to make grabby hands at him, he smiled and decided to forget the option of sitting altogether. After closing the door and locking it, more as a gesture of comfort than habit, he stripped off his leather jacket and shirt, leaving his chest bare and free for you to seek the warmth of.

The two of you laid side by side. You practically attached yourself to his skin. The hard plane of his back and chest a victim of your wandering fingers. His presence held you captive within the only cage you ever wanted to be kept in.

“Sleep now,” he whispered, and so you did, closed your eyes as the haven assured his staunch.