#he actually looks like he's recoiling in disgust/rage

[doodlboy]

Tasty visceral rage

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Called to Duty 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Another shift. Another new ache. It's not just your feet or hips anymore. There's a tugging in the back of your neck that tweaks each time you turn tour head a bit to far left. 

You lean on the counter. You don't care about Daye's warnings. She can stand on the hard floor while pregnant and see how she feels after a single hour. They haven't even bothered to get a standing mat. 

A few customers pass through. The usual stunted small talk passes between you, the intentional avoidance of the obvious. They'll stare at your stomach but they surely won't mention it. 

Funny, you saw a bunch of old ladies fawning over Molly, swollen with her fifth? Maybe sixth? You don't know how she keeps track. It stings a little to see them treat her like some saint while you've been tainted by the very same condition. 

You sigh and try not to think of it as you sort the novelty keychains by colour. They'll be messed up again by your next shift but it keeps your mind busy. Lately, you found your thoughts run off into the void never to be seen again. It's frustrating but a little bit scary too. 

A box lands on the counter and slides toward you as it's tossed carelessly beside the till. You grab it before it can slip over the edge and nearly recoil as you recognise the brand. You set the large box of condoms straight as a rolling chuckle greets you from the other side. 

You look up as Thor smirks and reaches into his back pocket, "having a party." 

You stare at him then scan the box. You don't say a word as your face sears. He takes out his wallet and searches lazily. 

"Wouldn't want any mistakes," he taunts as he looks through the slots. "Hm, credit." 

You hit the button and gesture bluntly to the machine. He taps without a second thought. You're riled by the sight of him so easily spending his money. Money he should be using for the child in your belly. The fact that he gets to keep living his life without a single consequence has you almost shaking. 

You tear off his receipt and nearly slam it on the box, shoving it towards him. The door rings with the arrival of another customer. You don't greet them as you're trapped in a tunnel. Your rage is centered on that big blond doofus. 

"Ah," he leans over and puts his elbows on the counter, a smug curve in his lips, "jealous, are we?" 

You don't acknowledge his taunt as you go back to pick at the keyrings. 

"Well, I've never fucked a pregnant woman," he muses, "wouldn't need these, would we?" He chortles as he taps the box with his knuckle, "how about one last go? For old times' sake. You get a break--" 

"Disgusting," a growl undercuts Thor's gross proposition. 

You flinch and look up. Sy stands with his arms crossed over his burly chest as he scoffs. Thor tilts his head and pushes himself straight. He face the other man with a cluck. 

"There you are, buddy," Thor booms, "I heard you've been sniffing around my leftovers." 

"Don't call her that," Sy sneers. "What're you doin' bugging her?" 

"I should ask you the same," Thor postures at the other man, a good few inches taller yet it hardly seems to matter. "You like sloppy seconds? Guess you're used to taking whatever you can get after all those field rations, huh?" 

"Don't," Sy grits as tension ripple in the air. 

Their voice carry through the sleep pharmacy and you notice how the white coats behind the far counter shift to see. Oh no. 

"Hey, guys, it's fine, let's not--" 

"Don't what?" Thor pokes Sy's shoulder. The other man drops his arms straight and balls his fists. "She's a slut. Look at her. She begged me to fill her up--" 

"I'm warning you," Sy snarls. 

"Look, I don't even know if it was me who did that. The way she was dancing up on everyone," Thor snickers, "you don't really think it's an immaculate conception or something." 

"I'm telling ya to leave and to leave her alone," Sy steps closer, undetered by the difference in height. He's just as thick, if not a little thicker, than his foe.  

Thor looks at you over his shoulder and makes a face, "you really fucking this mad dog--" 

Sy tackles Thor before he can finish his sentence. The wraps his arms around him as he charges and they hit the counter with a startling slam. You cry out and back up, the keychains scattering at the force of their impact. 

Thor and Sy latch onto each other and roll against the counter, shifting the till as the condoms teeter on the edge. Mints rain down onto the tile as they grunt and grapple.  

Thor pushes off and holds Sy at arm's length. The latter hurls a fist into the former's cheek and gets one on the jaw in return. They dodge and punch, latching back into each other as they collide with the rack of greeting cards. 

"Enough!" Daye shrieks as she runs up the center aisle, "I've called the police so you both better stop!" 

The men ignore her as you watch in horror. Fuck, fuck, fuck.  

You come around the counter, shaking as you approach the men feuding like vicious cats. You dodge away as you're nearly bowled over in their chaos and hold your stomach. Daye continues to yowl helplessly. 

"Sy, Sy, please, stop! Thor! Sy! Syverson!" You holler, "Saul!" 

His birth name catches him off guard and he stops. Thor lands a crunch blow in his nose but is quickly warded off with a forearm. Syverson keeps him at bay as he covers his nose and snorts. 

"Hey!" Daye bats them with a broom, "enough! Enough!" 

Thor detaches, shoving the other man one last time, and spits blood towards your feet. 

"You two," she huffs as he pulls the hanging tie from his hair, "deserve each other. Couple of fucking strays." 

He grabs the broom from day and flings it, stomping over the mess and out the door as he mutters about his family. You frown and look down at the trampled cards and mints. Daye sniffs and shakes her head as she frames her hips. 

"I think it goes without me saying," she snips, "you're fired and sir," she turns to Sy, "you better leave before the sheriff gets here. Oh, and don't come back.” 

You look up from the ruin at Sy and he gives a fluttery blink, “I’m sorry--” 

“Go, please,” you croak as you move your hand to your lower back. 

“I didn’t--” 

“Go,” you snap and turn your attention to your manager, “Daye, please, I didn’t do this.” 

“She’s telling the truth, was all me,” Sy backs up. 

“I’m not hearing it. None of it,” Daye spits, “you’ve been nothing but trouble since you got here. And you, sir, should be ashamed.” She spins and marches off, “if you don’t clean that up before you go, I will have the sheriff charge you with destruction of property.” 

[missblissy]

Bitter

Summary: A little drabble that takes place after the events of the game. In an intimate moment, Astarion has feelings of disgust within himself, and can't help but break down, talking to you about how he feels in his own skin. You stay supportive and help him through it.

Warnings: mentions of sex/domestic trauma, and panic attacks, but no actual smut. :) Only angst. Just angst. :)))

A/N: Hey hey! This is my first Astarion X Reader! I have been sucked in and now I'm just another one of his girlies :') I used a GN!Tav with no mentions of race/class/gender whatsoever. I really wanted to explore Astarion's sexual trauma, how he deals with it, and how he feels about it. I like to think Astarion desperately wants to be whatever he thinks "normal" is, and that he has a lot of shame and pained feelings towards not being able to be whatever this "normal" is. So I wanted to give him some angsty love/hurt and comfort. Enjoy!

Bitter. Like sour brandy. A perpetuating ick that crawled with insect-hooked feet into his skin. The itchy pain of ghostly memories was hot on his flesh. The crawling and coiling were unconditional. The buzzing of past words, actions, and regrets all flooded his mind. His body moved with a mind of its own in a sheer thought of panic. Moving. Repulsed. Unwanted even. But it still happened. Bittering the moment, souring the taste in his mouth, clutching at his undead heart with a rage he didn’t know he had, so soft and subtle that it built like a breeze over the ocean, hitting him like a typhoon. 

But no sign foretold that in the sudden jerk and pull back of his own hand from yours. No longer interlocked. The recoil of his body from instincts rather than thought or sound mind. How he fell away from you, not into you. Both surprised him, his internal rage, and his body betraying him. A breath hitched in his throat as he was pulled back to the dimly lit room of reality.

Where was he again...? His mind was foggy, far way, but yet still brim and bright with paranoia. Flush and festering with one too many distant memories.

“Star-bite?” Your voice was always soothing… Enough to pull him from his mind. The fog far from leaving his eyes traveled with ease across his face in the dark room. No light was needed for you to see that.

The honey worry in your words where enough for his eyes to meet yours despite his shame to look away. It pained him even more with the love welling in those sweet pearls and staring up at him with nothing but patience. Seemingly something he didn’t have. A tender hand lifted to his head, “Are you okay?” You asked. He flinched away. Again. Not even twice now in five minutes. You didn't pull back, however, but rather left your palm open with patience.

Astarion closed his eyes and leaned his cheek into your hand for only a second as he tried to ground himself. Self-hatred bubbled in him. Embarrassment. Shame. It was all the same feeling at this point and it was unbearable.

He sat up and back on his legs, no longer looming over you as the moonlight bathed him in a glow. Glossy with an otherworldly shine you stared up at him, skin exposed to the night. And watched as his shoulders fell with a deep sigh of frustration as he threw his hands to his face as if to hide while shaking his head, “I’m sorry-” He started. You slowly sat up as well, a blanket bathing over your own equally nude body in a half attempt to cover up.

“I’m sorry.” He said it again, “I.. I Don’t know what came over me,” He tried to laugh it off, the fact he blanked out, flinched from your very touch, and found himself disgusted even with the person he loved most. You understood… This was hard for him. Sex. Intimacy. Anything that related to his body. So you so desperately wanted to comfort him.

Which could be a hard thing to do sometimes. Despite that, you tried to reassure him. This wasn't the first time this has happened, “You don’t have to do this, It’s fine-”

“It’s not fine!” Astarion snipped with a whisper that could have been a scream, “I’m… not fine.” 

Bitter. It was always bitter on his tongue even when he laughed like it was as sweet as syrup before it turned into wine, “I don’t want to be… like this,” His voice carried on as he gestured to his entire being, “Every time. Every single time it doesn’t matter how much you love me I still feel disgusted in my own skin and that’s not fine!” He finally snapped out with a subtle sob, “I want to be able to do more than look and love you from an arm’s reach without wanting to burn my bones and erase the memory of everything I’ve ever been through every time I’m simply just touched by another!” 

There wasn’t an easy way to hide the pain on your face. The bitter truth. Even you knew it and it still stung fresher than a wasp’s stinger on a knuckle. No amount of love you gave Astarion could fix the damage done to him over two centuries of torment. No kind words, no simple nothings, or gestures could undo any of it. Nor erase it. Even dead, Cazador would always be with him.

Astarion’s voice picked up, another twisted, sad, and painful laugh, “It sickens me… It kills me,” He sighed, “That even no matter how much I love you, adore you, want you, and need you…” Silver-flowing tears trickled along his cheeks, flicking with faints of pink, betraying his true nature. A vampire’s bloody tears never lied. A sour sniffle sucked back up into his nose as he spoke again, “No matter how much I care I can’t be fixed. I’ll always fucking be like this!” 

He felt so trapped in his own skin. Disgusted with his own body. Hateful towards the person he was forced to become and betrayed by the thought of the person he could have been. It was a bitter cycle. And to think… This all started as a lovely night. But Astarion could just add this to the long list of many other things he’s ruined.

You sat on your knees, scooting just an inch ever so closer, “Astarion?” You held out your hand for him, palm up, open and there for him to take if he wanted. And of course, he did, “You will always be broken.” His eyes shot open and he stared at you, surprised by your honest take, “But you will also always be loved and cared for even if you are broken,” You squeezed his hand lightly and gave a soft smile, “And I don’t mind that you’re broken,”

Something told him you were lying but Astarion knew better than to believe that. It didn’t stop his little scoff as he averted his red gaze, “Even if I can’t fuck you?” Bitter. It was in his voice, the way he spat the words and laughed by adding, “I know I’m supposed to be this amazing, beautiful, and skilled piece of work but I’m no-”

“You’re not supposed to be anything,” You softly interrupted him, knowing exactly where he was about to go with this tangent, “You’re only supposed to be whatever you want to be. Not what others have made you out to be.”  

He still couldn’t meet your gaze, but you could see the doubt in his eyes and the subtle pout of frustration on his lips, “Even if I don’t know what I want to be?” He spoke more softly this time, like it was mostly to himself so he could finally speak it out loud, “... Or who I am?”

“Absolutely,” You promised him. It broke your heart every time he had these moments, how hurt and torn he must feel inside you could only imagine. You leaned a little closer, enough to still give him his space, “I’m not with you for the sex, Astarion, it was never about the sex. So I could go the rest of my life waiting, or not waiting, or simply just being there,” You reached up and cupped his cheek again and pulled ever so gently to get him to meet your gaze, “You… Do. Not… have to have sex with me to keep me to stay with you,” A little glimmer in your eye sparked with affection, "I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it, you are enough just as yourself. And I'll say it forever, I love you for you, and that includes even when stuff like this happens."

That got the littlest smile out of him. He brushed his cheek deeper into your palm and found himself even leaning into your embrace, “You know I want to,” He huffed, “I just don’t think… I can… not without this feeling being there, that is," It was still bitter. He closed his eyes, head resting by your shoulder, nearly hiding in the crook of your neck, “I don’t want to be this way. It’s like I'm not even free. Like my time in the sun was worth nothing in the long wrong,” He quickly looked up at you and corrected himself, “I know that’s not true,” A bitter smile, “It just feels that way, sometimes,” 

Your smile, bitter too, but sweet, with a sad nuzzle of your nose against his in a loving and comforting gesture, “I know, Star-bite,” Then a little kiss to his nose for reassurance, “But this,” And a tight squeeze of his hand, referring to just this simple act alone as you spoke, “You can do. And this is more than enough,”

[thosewildcharms]

towl 1x03 thoughts

rick is REALLY going through it trying to keep michonne alive by out maneuvering jadis AND thorne AND michonne herself because she fails horrendously at acting like she's not the most impressive person in the world AND trying not to have an aneurysm about all of that at the same time

speaking of rick you can't tell her to lie low and then eyefuck her in public every time you see her you are equally bad at this

equally you should probably stop kissing her every chance you get if you want her to believe you want her to leave lol

by contrast michonne screaming at him with her eyes while simultaneously giving him the silent treatment because she's actually too pissed off to yell at him? danai the actress you are!!!!!!!

also!!! the fact that rick thinks he can say "if you love me, you'll go" would actually make her leave is crazy. he has no idea how much that woman loves him! that's why she just smiled angrily at him because ACTUALLY. the reality is that she loves him way TOO much to ever leave him behind. that's WHY she's even here, in fact!!! he's not used to people fighting for him like this :(

michonne ripping that helmet off his head so hard i thought his head might come off with it had me cackling but also rick is stronger than me because I'd be on my knees

"you're a hero. with a shit haircut" I screamed he hates jadis so much it's so funny fdjaslkf

speaking of which I wonder if the freaks who think there is genuine sexual tension between rick and jadis caught his look of absolute disgust as he physically recoiled from her when she sexually harassed him for the 100th time. girl he's not gonna fuck you

CARL MENTION HELP

"He told me he'd find you. He found you." "Now I'm looking for him." MAYBE STOP MAKING ME CRY PERHAPS

one thing about rick and michonne they WILL find a minute to make out for a bit. and because andy and danai are EPs now they will do it with tongue while extremely well-lit! it's like they heard the complaints from the mothership and addressed them by kissing at least once per episode in broad daylight they love us

rich and michonne effortlessly fighting side by side and getting shit done after almost a decade apart because they are ACTUAL soulmates

the parallel between pearl aiming her gun at michonne and shane aiming his gun at rick in season 2 because they both feel threatened!!! big difference of course being that rick is there to literally put himself in the crosshairs to protect her

michonne staring rick down in a a turbulent helicopter and then abruptly yeeting them both into a raging storm because she is fed up with his shit is the funniest, most unhinged thing I've ever seen I love her so much

this show is fucking insane I love it. I'm still wary of how it will all end but I'm enjoying the hell out of it until we get there

[whumpsoda]

Rate the name "Peepeepoopoo"

JUST KIDDING HAHAHAHAHA

Joke's aside... how about a whump prompt?

Caretaker finds Whumpee months after they had a fight. Caretaker hugs Whumpee, relieved that they finally found them and apologized to them for saying all the nasty stuff to them.

Whumpee just looks at them, confusion etched on their face.

"Who are you...?"

-- @whumperofworlds

10/10 name, would name my kid that!

Here’s a drabble!!! Trying to actually work on my inbox… I hope you like it! Sorry it took so long :3

cw: amnesia/memory loss, implication of past abuse

———————————————————————

“Who are you?!”

Caretaker recoiled, hands flying off of her once closest friend. At least, that was a good amount of months ago, anyway. Now he was shouting at her in the street as soon as she had tried to embrace him. For a second, like a fool, she had thought it could’ve been just like old times. For a moment.

“Whumpee, it’s…” Was he still angry? Did he not recognize her? Nervously, she chuckled. “Oh! I guess I did change my hair, and we haven’t seen each other in forever, but-!”

Baring his teeth and taking an offensive position, he growled. “Who? Are. You.”

Brows furrowed, she reached out to place a hand to his shoulder. It was only her. Why was he being so hostile? There was no reason for him to be so terrified of her. “Whumpee, hey. It’s me, it’s just Caretaker.”

“Hey! Off!” He hollered, swiftly and harshly slapping away her arm. For a moment, Caretaker just watched him jump back with a stunned expression.

Seemingly, he surely was still upset with her. And she was just an idiot for even thinking things could’ve just gone back to normal.

“S- sorry.” She whispered, taking a step away.

Whumpee’s face was flushed red with a sour concoction of anger, confusion, and embarrassment. “I don’t…” he stood almost hunched over, hiding himself inside of a hoodie five times too big, when she clearly remembered always seen him stand so tall. So bright. Like now he didn’t want to be seen. “How do you know me?”

Something was off. Something was very off.

Her mind was spinning in circles with puzzlement, desperate to get a grasp on the situation. “Whumpee… what’s wrong? Is something wrong…? I don’t understand-” Yet again she had made the mistake of unconsciously moving closer, an action he obviously didn’t take kindly to.

“Don’t come any closer! Stay back!” Whumpee sloppily swiped something from his pocket, holding it out as a means of a weapon. Unfortunately for him it was a mere credit card, but Caretaker positioned her hands above her head, anyway. Anything to make him feel a bit safer, maybe even trust her more. 

“Okay, okay. I’m not gonna hurt you, y’know. It’s Caretaker.” She chose her words carefully, ever so slowly speaking. Not taking a single movement that may put him more on edge.

“Are you…” Eyes wide and limbs jittery, distressfully trying to keep up his aggressive facade, Whumpee’s voice dropped to no more than a murmur. “Are you one of… one of Master’s friends?”

Master? 

Caretaker’s stomach churned as soon as he spoke such a title, overcome with shock and disgust. 

For a moment, as her expression twisted with horror, Caretaker took the time to look at him. To really look at him. To take notice of his bundled up frame on a humid day, to note his greasy, sweat dripping hair that contradicted his usually strict ideology against allowing himself to go unwashed, and the rich, raw marks of cracking red that circled his throat. She’d never seen him so disheveled. 

“Master? Whumpee, what are you talking about-”

“Who is Whumpee?! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He was howling again, still pointing the useless object toward her with an iron grip, and most passersby were watching with unease and fascination. 

Whumpee’s passion was only getting his former friend riled up as well. “You-!” 

“Stay. Back.” He snarled, fiery rage flashing in his eye. From that alone she could just tell that he’d been through something Caretaker would never know the severity of. Something that broke the gates of his soft kindness, shriveling him into the trembling, vicious man she was faced with. 

“What… happened to you?”

He swallowed, and for a beat his face softened. “I…”

“I mean… Whumpee,” she huffed a bitter chuckle, carefully and slowly outstretching her hand. This time, he didn’t reject it. “Where have you been, all this time?”

[maeral33n]

Was it Worth it? (Velvet and Veneer Angst)

Description: What if Brozone couldn't save Floyd in time? How will the twin handle the consequences of their actions? Is a sibling's bond strong enough to forgive murder? Authors Note: Yeah, I was feeling some stuff today, and writing angst is cheaper than therapy. That being said, forgive me if characters seem a bit ooc and feel free to leave feedback.

They did it.

They are officially the most famous Mount Rageons in the past decade.

Velvet and Veneer's rise to fame skyrocketed over night after their award-winning performance at the Rage Dome. Tickets for their performance sold out almost within the hour they were available, and yet people still demanded to buy tickets even if there were no more seats available.

Their beatiful faces were plastered everywhere. In the malls, on the streets, on billboards, and if that wasn't enough, various programs on television were constantly reminding you that these two were the top dogs of the industry.

From the glittering city to the humble suburbs, to the slums of the undercity, everyone knew their names.

And all it took was one troll.

One dead troll.

Veneer stared at him, Floyd, still in his diamond prison. He lay lifeless and colourless. No, not colourless...translucent.

He's heard of discoloured trolls before, he's aware that troll can lose their colours due to trauma, but...it never occurred to him what would happen when a troll died.

Veneer felt life he was going to vomit.

Velvet was practically bouncing with joy as, yet another news anchor showed clips of their two during their performance last night. Her hands fanned her face as she fought back tears of joy, Veneer was trying to hold back his own, but for completely opposite reasons.

Velvet grabbed her brother by the shoulders, shaking him and pointing towards the screen. "Look Ven, we did it! They love us!"

He didn't look at the TV, his eyes were on Velvet in utter disbelief, at no point after their performance did, she even acknowledge that she was practically carrying the small corpse of a troll. Even now, she's pretending like Floyd never existed.

He shoved his sister away, causing her to stumble a bit. She turned to him, brows furrowed in confusion, "What was that for?"

That disgust that churned in his stomach bubbled into something far more ugly than Veneer could have ever possibly imagined as he practically spat. "You killed him."

"What?"

"You killed Floyd!"

Velvet recoiled slightly at her brothers raised voice. Veneer never raised his voice to her, or to anyone really. She rolled her eye and sighed, "Well, maybe if his brothers actually bothered to rescue him, we would have had to kill him."

Veneer groaned into his hand as he rubbed them down his face, he started pacing around the room, an annoying habit of his when he was getting antsy. "Are you even listening to yourself?" He exclaimed, "You don't even CARE!" Now the tears were falling, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Velvet huffed, "Jesus Ven, stop being such a baby." She grabbed his arm, stopping him from pacing, her grip tight. "Look, how about we go on a bit of a hiatus, hm? Y'know, travel a bit, go to Vacay Island or somewhere and relax. And then when we're done with our hiatus, we can find some more trolls and get back to work-"

Veneer practically ripped his arm away from his sisters grip red crescent mark were left where his fingernails dig into him. "Don't fucking touch me!" He snapped, then his eyes widened when her words sank it, "Wait...did you say we'll find some more?"

She scoffed, "Yeah, duh. You didn't think that we'd stop at the Rage Dome, did you?"

He stumbled over his words, trying to form a single coherent thought but failing. His sister spoke up again, "Last night was just the beginning. We may be famous now, but that won't last for long if go into an early retirement. I want us to go global, and to do that, we're gonna need more songs...more trolls."

Veneer was hyperventilating, his shaking steps brought him to Floyd, his tears hitting the diamond surface of cage. Floyd was a person, and Velvet was treating him as a tool, a sacrificial lamb for the offer of fame and prestige. Floyd was someone to somebody, he had a family who loved him, he had a long life ahead of him. And now all of that was gone because of some sick twisted idea some teenagers had one day.

Veneer began to sob.

"Oh god stop being so dramatic Ven," Velvet groaned.

Veneer turned his body around and approached her, his hands balled into fists, his face contorted with anger and contempt, Velvet took a step back. "You're a murderer," he hissed as he now stood face to face with his sister.

Fury flashed in her eyes as she mirrored his stance. "And you're a murderer AND a coward."

He blinked at her, "What?"

She jabbed her finger into his chest, "Don't play dumb. You point the finger at me and call me the murderer, but you forget that you were the one that helped me capture that troll in the first place."

Another jab into his chest, this time, much harder. "You were the one who used his talent first."

She started raised her voice, and jabbed at his chest on last time, this some so painful and Veneer had to grab her wrist and pull it away from him. "And that you had every chance in the world to expose us."

"...What?"

She sneered at him, "Yeah, you could have ended all of this as soon as it started, you could have gone to the police and told them everything we did, and we would be behind bars by now...but you didn't."

His lips quivered as fresh tears fell down his face.

"So that makes you, a murderer and a coward."

Veneer shoved his sister away from him and stormed into his room, Velvet followed him, her heeled boots clicking against the marbled floor. "Where are you going?!"

He didn't answer his, simply grabbed a bag and started shoving anything he could fit into it. Some clothes, shoes, his phone, his wallet...would this even be enough?

"What are you doing?" Velvet growled as she watched her brother walked around his room.

He still didn't answer her, he was crying so hard he could barely see what he was shoving into his bag.

"I said, what are you doing?!"

"I'm leaving!"

Velvet stood still for a moment at the entrance of his bedroom, for once, she had nothing to say. All she could do was watch her brother pace back and forth, growling in frustration as he struggled to shove in another pair of shoes into his back, giving up in the end.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this.

She felt her face grow hot, her emotions overwhelming her. "You don't mean that."

He turned to her as he shrugged the heavy bag over his shoulder, "Yes I do, Velvet. This has gone too far." He pushed his way passed her and made a beeline to the front door.

"Fine then, leave. You'll be back." She spoke coldly this time; whatever fire had been in her voice before was gone now. And that had always scared Veneer.

His hand was on the doorknob, and he spared a single glance over his shoulder. His sister stood in the middle of the room, her arms crossed, her face neutral. She was his best friend, his confidant, his partner in crime...literally.

The he flicked his gaze over to the diamond bottle, the one that held Floyd's dead body. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt another sob rack through his body. How did it come to this? They couldn't go to prison; he knew he wouldn't stand a chance...and he didn't want to think of what Velvet would do.

Velvet was right, he was a coward.

He rubbed his eyes and looked at his sister again.

"Don't bother calling me."

SLAM!

Velvet stood in the middle of the room, everything was silent, save for the advertisement on TV for a new car model. Despite the silence, her mind was screaming.

He'll be back...he'll be back.... he'll be back...he always comes back.

They've had arguments before, and they've always made amends. Well...she gives him the silent treatment, and he eventually apologies to her. They'll get through this.

She stepped towards the table where the diamond perfume bottle sat atop of. The translucent body of the troll...of Floyd...lay still.

"He'll be back."

(2 Weeks Later)

She had called him over thirty-six times, all of them went to the same prerecorded message of Veneer's voice that he made years ago.

"Hello, you've reached the voice mail of Veneer. If you're getting this message, it's probably because I'm dead or suuuppperrr busy. Anyway, leave a message after the beep....BEEEEEEP!"

Velvet hasn't had a good night sleep since her brother left, and not once did she sleep in her own bed. She'd spent most of her days moping around the living room, going back and forth between channels on TV that might have anything on Veneer's whereabouts to her social media.

She had been absolutely bombarded with fans praising her for her performance and asking if she plans to make more music. She had even received calls and messages from popular news outlets and interviewers to be featured on their shows.

She had declined them all.

She couldn't do it without her brother.

She let out a quiet sob as she sank to the floor in front of her couch.

"....Come back...."

[princessconsuela120]

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: YOU’LL NEVER FIND ANOTHER LOVE —✧

Series masterlist

Chapter art by @clownfacepancakes120

Chapter Warnings: cursing, mentions of vomiting, pregnancy

Author’s Note: guys it’s almost over😪 I don’t know what I’ll do when this is done. I’m so proud of how well this has done! Don’t forget to like comment and repost, and be sure to message me with any questions! Enjoy you guys!

—✧

It was now the night of South Park high prom. I had agreed to go with Kyle, but that was before I knew the days and stress Bebe and Wendy would end up putting into me getting ready. Bebe had done my makeup, the girls had all collectively picked out a dress, and Heidi re-sewed it to fit around my bump. Now it had been a while since I felt pretty in something. I felt pretty. It seemed like a lot of bells and whistles, but I felt pretty. My hair was half up and half down, and the red dress I wore trailed down to my ankles. Yet when I looked in the mirror, I still feared for what the group of men would tease me for when I came out. This much joy made me nauseous.

“Alright, come on out princess!” Cartman yelled, all of the boys huddled together outside my door. I rolled my eyes with annoyance, still studying myself in the mirror.

“Shut up fatass! Stop rushing me!” I yelled back.

“Aye!”

“Do you need help in there, Juno?” Kyle called, making me take in a deep breath to calm the quick hormonal rage I felt from being rushed.

“No, just, just shut up and be patient!” I shouted back, making Kenny chuckle in the other side as I heard Kyle recoil from the door.

“Wendy, maybe you should go in there.” Stan suggested, causing Wendy to raise an eyebrow from her spot on the couch. Unlike the rest of the men, she understood what ‘shut up and be patient’ actually meant.

“She just said to give her a minute.” Wendy said, making Stan shrug.

“Yeah but I mean we have to go…”

“If you have such a problem with it, why don’t you go?” Wendy asked, causing Stan’s face to scrunch up with disgust.

“Ew! She could be naked in there!” He yelled, shaking his head with disgust as Wendy rolled her eyes.

“You’re such a child!” She shook her head, ignoring Stan’s screeching as she continued to scroll through her phone. A soft knock was heard from the door, alerting me that Kyle was now pressed against it.

“Hey, hey Jo you okay in there?” He asked softly, melting my heart into even more nerves that settled in my stomach.

Was I? Sure I felt beautiful for the first time in a while, but what if no one else thought that? I just saw the makeup and hair and figured it could cover up my stretch marks for the night. My cheeks looked more swollen than usual, and I could barely fit my feet into the flats that were too big for me a few months ago. Who was I kidding, I felt awful, I always did. I could fake myself out all I wanted, but I still couldn’t see past my toes.

“No.” I mumbled, almost coming out as a whisper, seeing as I didn’t even mean to mumble it to begin with.

“What’s wrong honey?” Kyle asked softly, sighing from the other end.

“I don’t wanna come out.” I mummbled again, shaking my head in the mirror as I pulled at the skin on my cheeks.

“I’m sure you look beautiful, love.” He reassured, which only made me sigh in response.

“Okay, fine. But you can’t laugh.”

“I would never.”

“Cartman can’t laugh either.”

“I promise you he won’t.” Kyle said, causing Cartman to yell angrily.

“Hey! You aren’t the boss of me jew..”

“Shut up fatass.” Kyle hissed. Stan grabbed Cartman from behind, holding a hand over his mouth as Eric struggled.

“I promise you Junebug, he won’t be saying anything.” Stan reassured me, making me sigh as I opened the door.

“Okay, fine.” I walked out, my arms folded over each other self-consciously as all the boys' faces lit up. Of anything, I knew these boys would always be in awe of me, and never failed to bring me joy.

“Woah.”

“Yeah, woah.”

“I know, I know, god this was a dumb color to choose. I told Bebe but she said it made my eyes pop..” I began to explain, making Kyle grabbed my cheeks, smiling at me.

“Juno, you look amazing.” He said, kissing my forehead. I sighed, shaking my head slightly.

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“He’s not.” Cartman spoke up, giving me a soft smile. “You look beautiful.” He said, making me smile back at him with thanks.“Even I can’t argue that.”

I couldn’t help but let the tears fall down my cheeks that threatened to spill, trying desperately to contain them behind my makeup as Kyle pulled me into a hug.

“Great going fatass you made her cry!” Craig yelled, pushing Cartman as he looked back at Craig angrily, shoving him back.

“Aye! I didn’t say anything, maybe she looked at your crooked teeth Craig!” Cartman yelled back, and Kyle sighed, rubbing my back.

“Honey, why are you crying?”

“You’re just, you’re all so sweet. I’m so lucky.” I said, pulling away and pouting at everyone.

“So you’re crying?” Stan asked, giving me an odd look. I glared at him, throwing my shoe at him angrily.

“Shut up Stan! I can’t control my emotions.” I shouted, hiding my face into Kyle’s shirt. He chuckled, pulling away and holding out his arm.

“It’s okay love, let’s go to prom shall we?”

—✧

“Dude shut up!” Kyle shouted, in attempt to keep me asleep in his lap. We were currently driving to Cartman’s cousin’s cabin, prom having been a success. We were staying the week, so we needed two cars to pack everyone into. We were driving with Stan, Wendy, Kyle, Kenny, Cartman and Butters. I was in the back with Kenny and Kyle, peacefully sleeping on Kyle’s lap after an exhausting prom.

“Oh piss off Kyle, we could be at war with Switzerland right now and Juno would manage to stay asleep.” Stan grumbled, having been the one driving and annoyed with Kyle and Cartman’s constant bickering over me.

“Well we aren’t at war, but you are talking exceptionally too loud for being just three feet away.” Kyle retorted, turning around to glare at Cartman. He stuck his tongue out at him childishly, before Stan scoffing caught Kyle’s attention.

“Dude you are so whipped.” Stan teased, making Kyle roll his eyes.

“What, dude no I’m not. Juno’s sleeping, trust me, you don’t want to see what she’s like when she’s woken up.” Kyle said, and Cartman scoffed from the back.

“Totally whipped.”

“Mm..” I mumbled, shifting in Kyle’s lap.

“Oh fuck.” Stan whispered.

“This is it, this is the end.” Kenny said, looking up at the ceiling with despair.

“Kyle?”

“Yes love, I’m here.” Kyle answered, running his fingers through my hair as I sat up.

“Kyle, I think I’m gonna be sick.” I mumbled, holding a hand on my chest nervously.

“What?”

“Oh god please not in my car again.” Stan whined, making me scoff.

“Pull over, pull over now!”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere..” I gagged, feeling myself grow even more nauseous.

“Stanley Randal Marsh pull over right fucking now!” I screamed. His tires screeched to a halt as he pulled over onto a patch of grass. I quickly ran out and found some bushes to vomit into. Everyone collectively turned away in disgust, Kyle sighing as he came behind me, patting my back gently.

“It’s okay Jo, let it out.” He mumbled soothingly.

“This is exactly why I wanted to go with Clyde, I’m sure he’s already there.” Cartman grumbled, rolling his eyes as Stan hit him behind the head.

“I’ve got you honey, you’re okay.”

“See this is what I mean, you’re whipped.” Stan teased, Kenny nodding with agreement.

“Yeah dude, you’ve gone soft.” Kenny teased too, making Kyle roll his eyes.

“The hell do you mean?” Kyle asked in response. Wendy rolled her eyes, stepping up from the crowd.

“I have hair ties on my wrist Kyle, you don’t have to hold her hair back.” She said kindly, pulling back my hair as she turned to Stan with a glare. “Shut up Stan, it’s sweet.”

“Yeah, so sweet that Juno’s made you gay Kyle.” Cartman said, laughing loudly when he did, earning a punch in the side from Kyle.

“Shut up fatass!”

“Aye!”

—✧

We had all been sitting together in the main room of the cabin, sitting together on the couches, all bunched together. My legs sprawled across Stan’s lap as I leaned my head against Kyle. My arms were crossed with annoyance, a blanket covering my head making me grumbled in annoyance. I could hear the cue that the Mario Kart Race was about to begin. According to Cartman I was winning too much, so he took precautions.

“I just don’t understand why we’re taking this extreme precautions.” I whined, lifting the blanket up slightly to get some fresh air.

“Because, you’re a big fat cheater, and I’m sick of it.” Cartman grumbled, rolling my eyes.

“But is the blanket really necessary? I feel like I’m sweating my boobs off under here.” I said, shaking the blanket as a few of the boys made grossed out noises, the girls giggling as they did.

“It’s extremely necessary.”

“But I’m not even playing.” I groaned, but Cartman yelled in response.

“Come on!” He shouted, throwing his controller on the ground.

“You lost huh?” I teased, making him spit back at me.

“No..”

“Yeah you did.” Clyde teased, making Cartman begin the yell.

“Shut up Clyde! I only lost cause Juno wouldn’t stop pestering me about her damn blanket.” He shouted. I shook my head, taking the blanket off enough to see.

“I guess your cheat proof plan isn’t working huh?” I said, raising an eyebrow at Cartman as he pointed at me angrily.

“Screw you Juno! Suck my balls bitch!” He yelled, making me giggle as Kyle pulled off the rest of the blanket.

“There’s my pretty girl.” He said happily, a cheeky smile on his face as I smiled back at him.

“Disgusting.” Stan gagged, shaking his head as I turned to glare at him.

“I missed this face.” I said back to Kyle, holding his chin and swaying his head lovingly. He smiled back.

“Well I missed this face too.” He replied, pulling me into a kiss as the rest of the group ewwwed in disgust. I scoffed, turning to look at the tv.

“You’re gonna fall off the edge..” I said, pointing to Eric’s character on the tv, making him stomp his foot angrily.

“Shut up Bitch!” He yelled back at me, making me chuckle. I took a deep breath, snuggling happily into Kyle’s arm as he rested his head against mine, the two of us watching as Cartman lost 12 games of Mario kart in a row until he finally gave up to watch a movie.

“Ah!” Tweek shouted, causing everyone to flinch at the sound besides Craig, who simply stayed with his arm around Tweek’s shoulder.

“Tweek, honey, calm down. It’s not even at the scary part yet.” Craig reassured, earning a confused look from Stan.

“Scary part? We’re watching Happy Gilmore!” He yelled, his arm around Wendy’s waist as she snuggled into him.

“Hey! Don’t make his anxiety invalid!” Craig yelled, making Stan roll his eyes. “This part is scary for a comedy movie.”

“It’s the credits!!” Stan yelled back, making Craig scoff as he rubbed Tweeks back soothingly.

“Hey guys, look.” Kenny said, gesturing beside him to Juno and Kyle fast asleep, tangled into each other.

“Oh my god.”

“How stinkin adorable.” Wendy said, pouting at the precious moment.

“Aww.”

“They’re so precious.” Heidi cooed, snuggled into red’s embrace as they all looked over at the two sleeping.

“Let’s draw penises on their faces.” Cartman teased, laughing to himself before Stan shoved him.

“Shut up fatass.” Stan hissed, causing Eric to look back at him angrily.

“Aye!”

“Should we wake them?” Butters asked, making Stan shake his head. It was past due time for everyone to be asleep, so they all decided to head to their respective rooms.

“Nah, let’s just leave them. They seem comfy enough.” Stan said, smiling at his sisters comfortable joy, cuddled tightly into Kyle. Stan of all people knew how hard a good nights sleep had been for me lately.

“Goodnight sleepyheads.” He whispered, dropping a blanket over the two and leaving the lights out for th before heading upstairs.

—✧

“Huh?” Kyle mummbled, sitting up slightly in his spot before noticing me sleeping peacefully at his chest. “Juno? Hey sleeping beauty.” He whispered, chuckling when he saw the look I had on my face. My mouth was slightly open, and I had never looked more peaceful. “Come on love, this can’t be comfy for your back.” He began to pick me up. Which prompted me awake as I rubbed my eyes.

“Kyle?” I mummbled, once we had finally made it to bed. Kyle helped dress me into pajamas and tucked us into bed.

“Shh, it’s okay love I got you. You can rest.” He reassured, running his fingers through my hair as I snuggled into his chest.

“Mm, Goodnight.” I mumbled into his chest, feeling him kiss the top of my head.

“Goodnight my love.” He mumbled, before shifting his position. “Hey kiddo, you gotta calm down in there you’re gonna wake up your mom.” He whispered to my stomach, chuckling at the busy kicking going on.

“I know it’s hard, I’m excited to meet you too. So is everyone else. Your gonna be so loved little one. Your mama thinks your a boy, and I think your mom’s always right. But just between you and me, I think you might be a baby girl.” He leant down slightly to kiss my bump. “Haim Sheli (my life).” He whispered, placing one last kiss before letting his hand rest on my stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you little one. I love you.”

[emotionalcadaver]

WIP Wednesday

Tagging @shelbydelrey, @confidentandgood, @moral-terpitude, @runnning-outof-time, @zablife, @call-sign-shark, @peakyltd, @detectivelokis, @eclecticwildflowers, @roofgeese, @amyowl470, @areyenotfondofmelobster, @scaryscarecrows, and anyone else interested!

Dance of Darkness Chapter 7: Ride or Die

(Tommy Shelby x OC)

Apologies in advance to all the Polly fans out there!

“Business first,” Tommy ordered. Polly leapt from her seat, physically shoving Lucy out of the way in her haste to get at Tommy. Lucy caught herself against the wall with a yelp, head whirling to stare at her in shock.

“They took Michael.”

Tommy held up a hand. “I said business first. And don’t push Lucy, Polly.”

Polly continued to try to talk, but Tommy shouted over her. 

“Polly, business first!” he barked. She went silent, glowering. Lucy moved so that she was on the other side of Tommy from her, putting him between them, just in case. A movement that wasn’t lost on Tommy, if the way that his eyes tracked her were any indication. He turned back to his brother. “John?” he said, encouraging him to continue with his report. All of their whiskey had been taken, vans impounded and warehouses locked. They’d lost the Eden Club back to Sabini. Alfie had framed Arthur for Billy Kitchen’s death, so their truce with the Black Country boys was over.  

“I don’t give a fuck about whiskey,” Polly interupted. “I don’t give a fuck about Billy Kitchen. I want my son out of prison, now!” she slammed her hand on a desk.

“Thomas, I spoke to Johnny Dogs–” Esme began.

“This meeting should just be family!” Polly raged.

“I can help–” Esme tried.

“Let her talk!” Lucy said.

“It’s family only, she’s not blood, Tommy!” Polly practically screeched. 

“Let her speak,” Tommy ordered.

“Or is this a business–have you forgotten our family–” her eyes locked on Lucy, like she’d just realized that she was there, and her face turned bright red, all the hatred that she’d kept locked up towards her spilling out in one sudden, demented roar. “Get your soulless, disgusting, bitch of a slut out of here, now!”

Lucy recoiled like she’d been slapped, sinking into herself, her back hitting the wall behind her.

“Enough!” Tommy shouted. 

But Polly wasn’t done. “We all know that you just keep her around as a hole to shove your cock into–” 

“Enough!” Tommy roared, in a voice Lucy had never heard him use before. He sounded monstrous, terrifying in a way that wasn’t wholly human. Polly went silent, eyes widening, taking a step back, like she’d actually realized that she’d gone too far. Lucy stared at the floor, eyes blinking hard, feeling the rise of warmth in her cheeks from humiliation, unable to look at any of the other people in the room, though she could feel all of their eyes on her. “Enough, Polly,” his voice was lower, but the dangerous growl was still there.

Dance of Darkness Chapter 8: Happy or Sad

(Tommy Shelby x OC)

Don't worry, there are no spoilers for chapter 7 here!

She’d picked out a bright red dress with a long skirt and intricate black beading, and had swapped out her usually simplistic and less flashy jewelry for a few of the more expensive, lavish pieces she owned. Most of which had been gifts that Tommy had gotten her throughout the years. Fussing over her hair one last time, she sighed, and began to climb down the stairs, careful in the heels she was wearing so that she didn’t fall. She heard the door open and close, as James finally left for the night.

When Tommy saw her, his eyes lit up, crossing the room to her in several quick, long strides, hands landing on her waist as he kissed her.

“You look beautiful.”

She blushed under the praise. “Thanks.”

He’d prepared the sitting room while she was upstairs, turning on a few of the lights and getting a fire started, the dim glow leaving the room feeling seductive and romantic. He had shed his coat, leaving him in only his waistcoat, slacks, and white button down shirt, making it easier for her to feel the muscles in his biceps flex as she ran a hand along his arm. 

“What if she doesn’t show up?” she asked, nerves spiking again. Tommy looked her up and down, clearly appreciative.

“I’m sure we can think of something to do.”

She laughed, leaning more solidly against his chest. He rubbed her back.

[beoneofus]

⋆ 〉

bumping their nose against a rough, skinned surface. tip brushing molded, leathery complexion that still felt so much like home. their breath fanning against the other's split cheek, just before a gentle kiss is pressed to bruise right in. it was loving, just as were the small caresses of finger tips to clothed shoulders that were painted paper white.

the male receiving such a touch was not used to the treatment at all. harsh scratching of nails, punching of fists, kicking of feet to the abdomen — pinned fear and rage. that is what he usually expected; received. but now someone was willing to give him the opposite. something so foreign and quite frankly, uncomfortable.

uncomfortable in an unfamiliar sense. it did not feel wrong nor... gross. just unidentified. odd. it sent jitters up the nerves of his back, to the base of his skull. electrification filled his veins and he wanted to... touch them back.

not by strangulation. or carving. or hands pulling hair so hard that it peeled off the scalp. no — he actually wanted to hold them, just close enough to inhale the scent of the body wash they bared.

a hand was hovering above their slightly bare shoulder blade, shaking so slightly, that you'd actually miss the feeble tremble if not paying close enough attention. teeth gritted in frustration, and brow-bone nerves curved inward — all out of unacceptance. why was he feeling the need to be affectionate? surely that was for the weak, in which he wasn't.

“ jeff... ” the person mumbled, lips already traveled down to the side of his neck; hovering just above a local vein that throbbed in anticipation. “ it's alright, ” they cooed, a gentle whisper of a calming gesture. hand slipping up his arm, only for their forearm to twist and wrap loosely around the back of his neck. it was a simple act of lovingness, something that should send disgust to the mans heart, but instead... made the muscle skip a thumping beat.

“ shut up.. ” the killer rasped back, roughly hooking his own arm around their waist. the bottom crease of his eyes that held heavy circles from lack of use, of eyelids, lifted just slightly — almost as if a glare were to form, while his fingers closed in around their hip to pinch the skin. “ I'm fine - stop talking, bitch. ”

they knew he meant nothing by the name — it was a typical recoil to the unknown. that's why, reeling their head back just enough to look up at the frizzled killer, a small smile stretched across their lips. “ I'll stop talking when you actually kill me. ” a small teasing pitch underlined their tongue, which wasn't hard to catch onto. irises of dark blue flickered down to meet specs of dark/light, tongue clicking in the process; hold tightening.

clearly, jeffery was not pleased with that response. but he knew they were right. their game of cat and mouse has gone on for a while, and due to a promise, it'd continue to carry on until the more vulnerable were to slip. it was a nuisance to woods, but he pulled through and dealt — it was the chase that thrilled him on.

“ well.. ” a sandy textured thumb reached up to press to their bottom lip. smoothing over in a drag, pulling the appendage down with dilated pupils of curiosity. “ I'd watch your tongue, brat. we both know you don't want to lose it. ”

“ but, ” a whisper left their mouth, before wet lips wrapped around said digit. a gentle suckle, innocent like orbs watching; flickering between his own, before releasing. a grin slowly curled onto their mouth afterwards; pure daringness, clutch in their teeth showing. “ maybe I do? ”

they were asking for it. begging at this point.

and jeff knew. he knew since the beginning, that something wasn't right; was off. but the mischief fluttering in their lashes and shining in their teeth confirmed it.

which is why he didn't hesitate to grab their waist, and slam their back to the wall of his shadowed room.

---

this is not meant to be all pretty so I stg don't give me shit about the details.

[rainbows-and-shadows]

Rainbows Tinted Pink: A Rainbow High Swap AU Story

Chapter 6: And Denim Blue

Previous - Ch6 - Next

“Hey! Sorry, I got caught in the crowd and I- Colin?”

“Oh, you know my date?”

“Your date? Colin's my boyfriend!”

Ruby recoiled away from him in disgust as Skyler’s eyes filled with tears of heartbreak and rage.

“Your boyfriend?!” She exclaimed in horror. “Colin, what’s going on? Skyler’s your girlfriend?”

“No! Sky, we talked about this,” Colin said, trying to salvage the situation he willingly created. “We said we'd hang when we got to Rainbow High, but we'd alsokeep things chill!”

“Yeah! Keep things chill. That doesn't mean a break up!” Skyler argued.

Colin looked away, a little ashamed. But his beat of silence spoke for him. “I mean, come on Sky.”

Skyler gasped, realizing that was what he meant. “Oh, no,” she could barely disguise the heartbreak in her voice, as her tears finally spilled out of her eyes, bolting out of the nearest door.

“Sky, wait!” He called after her, to no success. He turned back to Ruby, a furious glare etched across her face, which he elected to ignore. “Look, I know this looks really bad, but-“

“So beyond really bad!” Ruby cut him off with a hard glare, absolutely fuming. “Ugh, I'm outta here. I'm gonna go find Sky.”

As she marched away from him, she heard his footsteps. Feeling her anger rise again, she sharply turned on her heel to confront him again. “Don’t you dare follow me!”

“Come on, I just wanna see if Sky’s okay!” he argued defensively. “I still care about her, you know?”

“Oh! So, now you care about her? Where was that attitude five minutes ago when you tore her apart and she was on the verge of tears, huh?!”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “Don’t pretend like you actually care about her! Sky’s just in your Runway group, you just need her to not get cut. She’s not your friend at all! You hardly even know her!”

Ruby gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, his callous and audacious attitude only enraging her further.

“I may not have had as much time as you've had to get to know Skyler, but I know her enough to know that you just completely destroyed her! It’s also pretty clear to me, from your actions and your words, that you don't actually care about her at all! You’re just trying to save face! And, because she’s my friend, I’m going to find her and apologise for hurting her so badly, which I can tell you have absolutely no intention of doing, so just stay here. You’ve hurt her enough already!”

Colin frowned, taken aback by Ruby’s fiery words. She turned back to her friends, collective fury etched across all of their faces. “Girls, do me a favour and don’t let him follow me. I don’t wanna see his face again for the rest of the night!”

And with that, she stormed out of the atrium , down the hall Skyler had disappeared down. Colin huffed, and attempted to follow her again, but was met with the four girls tightly huddled by the door, blocking his way. Amaya and Sunny stared judgmentally at him, while Violet slowly shook her head with a glare.

Jade, on the other hand, took a more confrontational approach. She marched right up to him, her furious face inches away from his, a livid look in her eyes.

“What's the deal, Colin? You really think it was cool to mess with our friends like that?!”

💙💧💙💧💙💧💙💧💙

Ruby anxiously hurried down the empty hallway of the Cosmetology department, carefully looking in each room for Skyler. It was a long hall, but there were only eight rooms, seven of which were clearly empty. She poked her head around the last door, the salon where they’d done the Escape Room.

“Sky?”

Poor Skyler was miserably sobbing on a salon chair, her beautiful blue makeup ruined and her mascara running down her face. Ruby flew over to her, grabbing a box of tissues on the way.

“Okay, you need to know that I am never talking to Colin again! I’m so, so, sorry, Sky. I never wanted to hurt you like that, I had no idea he was your boyfriend!”

“Ex-boyfriend,” she sniffled sadly, taking a few tissues. “I'm such a loser! He straight up broke up with me, and I was too stupid to even notice.”

“You're not the loser, he is!” Ruby insisted. “You're right. ‘Keeping things chill,’ is not the same as breaking up!”

“I know,” she sighed. “Ugh, I know! It's just, we really used to inspire each other. That's partly how I got into Rainbow High. I knew everything felt different since we got here, but-”

Ruby startled. There’s no way that cowardly loser had anything to do with Skyler’s obviously incredible talents. “Wait, no, I’m stopping you there. No way that boy had anything to do with you getting into Rainbow High! You have sick talent!”

“I know. I mean, I think I know,” she said uneasily. Her teammate sighed. Skyler’s talents always shone clearly in every piece of work she made!

“Sky, your work is unreal!” Ruby paused for a moment, trying to find a way to show her. Her eyes landed on a nearby blank sketchpad and pencils atop a stool, and snatched them up, offering them to Skyler.

“Draw me something! Your ultimate Runway look! Show me the skills that got you into this place, on your own. Not because of Colin!”

She gently took the pad and pencils from Ruby. She looked around the room for some inspiration. After a moment, she burst into a designing frenzy. As soon as she was satisfied with it, she held it up to Ruby, proudly.

On the page was a dazzling deep blue floor-length gown. It was perfectly Skyler’s style, with an intricately folded bodice, long black belt wrapped around the waist, trailing down a slit at the front of the skirt, and shimmering silver and white rhinestone details scattered along the skirt and layered bodice.

“Fire!” Ruby cried, taking the beauty of it all in. “See, you belong here. You know it, right?”

“I do. I do belong here!” Skyler affirmed proudly.

“Yeah, you do!” Ruby grabbed her hands and pulled her up. “Now let's fix you up with a little breakup makeup!”

She ran all over the salon, grabbing brushes, eyeshadow, mascara, and lipsticks, as Skyler gently tore out her sketch and slipped it into her pocket.

Ruby wiped away Skyler’s ruined makeup and replaced it with a shiny sky blue eyeshadow and sleek black mascara. Ruby even gave herself some new sparkly red lipstick.

Skyler’s eyes landed on two tubs of hair glitter, one red, one blue. Immediately, she ran a streak of blue down a strand of her hair, and did the same for Ruby with the red glitter.

Ruby rushed down to her Visual Arts class and grabbed a few cans of her spray paint. She carefully painted a red and blue ‘RS’ symbol on the bottom of Skyler’s dress, before doing the same to her own skirt.

They took a few selfies, posing together, making fun and silly faces at the camera and messing around with hairdryers and salon equipment. A few minutes later, the two sank into the salon chairs again, tiredly smiling and laughing.

“Sky, you look hype!” Ruby declared.

“And your designs are on fire!” Skyler replied.

“You know what else is fire? You! Anyone who can't see that is a total loser, and so not worth it.”

Skyler giggled happily. “Thank you, Ruby, for all of this,” she sighed, running her fingers through her glittery hair. “It helps a lot.”

The pair smiled, and hugged each other tightly. The dinging of their phones interrupted their touching moment. They pulled them out and saw an onslaught of texts from the girls.

“Woah! I have like twenty-five texts!” Ruby exclaimed, scanning through texts from Violet and Jade.

“Sunny sent like a gazillion sad face emojis,” Skyler added, scrolling through them all, as well as texts from Amaya, and a few from Poppy.

“We should get back to the party,” Ruby suggested, putting her phone back in her pocket. “Everyone's probably worried.”

“Do we have to? What if Colin's still there? I don't think I can face him,” Skyler said timidly.

“Yes, you can! It's not about him, it's our party too. We're gonna go back and own it!” Ruby encouraged her, before stretching her hand out to her. “You with me?”

Skyler took a deep breath. “Yeah, I'm with you!”

She grabbed Ruby’s hand and they confidently strode out of the salon together.

💙💧💙💧💙💧💙💧💙

Back at the party, while everyone else was having a good time, the rest of the girls were starting to get worried. They had blocked off any way for Colin to get out, and after four unsuccessful attempts of leaving, he had given up.

Poppy, who had missed all of the drama, became confused when she could no longer see Ruby or Sklyer anywhere in the party. When she was finally able to take a break, she immediately asked them what was going on, and the four girls quickly caught her up. She glared at Colin relentlessly from the opposite side of the room, before she had to return to her music.

The four remaining girls were staring at their phones, anxiously waiting for any kind of message or reply from Ruby or Skyler.

“Ruby isn't answering any of my texts,” Jade said worriedly.

“Skyler isn't either!” Sunny bit her lip. “Should we look for them, or do you think they wanna be alone?”

“I say we look,” Violet decided. “Do you see all these texts from my livestream? The Vi Hive is dying to know how all this drama ends!”

Amaya glanced away from her own phone and smiled at what she saw. “Tell them you've got good news. Look!”

Ruby and Skyler pushed open the doors and walked confidently over to the girls. Their new hair glitter and makeup sparkled and shone under the flashing lights, catching everyone’s eyes as they weaved their way through the party, exuding pure confidence.

“Loving your street looks!” Amaya gushed. “And they match too! They're so pretty!”

“Are you two okay?” Sunny asked anxiously.

The pair glanced at each other, before beaming at each other warmly and grabbing each other’s hands.

“Better than ever!” Skyler declared.

“What are you going to say to Colin?” Violet asked them as she held up her phone.

“I have some ideas,” Jade growled, slamming her fist into her palm.

“No need,” Ruby assured them.

“That's right,” Skyler agreed. “It's not about Colin, and we're gonna own this party. Come on, Ruby!”

They turned and ran up to Poppy at her booth. Skyler tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.

“Hey,” she shouted over her music. “You’re back! Where were you guys?”

“Just needed to take a breather,” Skyler replied. “Can you turn down the music for a sec?”

She gave her a thumbs-up and turned the volume dials down. Poppy handed Skyler a microphone, as everyone turned to look at them.

She took a deep breath and began to speak. “I’d just like to say, when bad things happen, remember what you love. Your art, and the friends who have your back!”

“So turn your colour up!” Ruby declared.

“Yes!” Poppy cried, just as a new mix began to play. She put it on at full volume and everyone started dancing again, more energetic than before.

Ruby and Skyler jumped off the platform and ran over to their friends again, all of them hugging and laughing with each other. Together, they danced the night away as Poppy’s music blared across the room, with not a care in the world.

💙💧💙💧💙💧💙💧💙

As the night drew to a close, the entire group tiredly helped Poppy pack up her things. Everyone else had headed upstairs and it was only Ruby and Skyler, carrying up the last of the equipment.

“Thanks for inviting us, Avery,” Ruby said as they headed towards the door.

“Thanks,” she paused before rushing down the steps. “Hey, Skyler?”

She turned back towards the prefect. “Yeah?”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay? I saw you crying, but I didn't want to intrude since I didn't know what was going on with you two and that guy” she asked her.

“Thanks, but it's not important, not now,” Skyler sighed contentedly. “What matters is Ruby helped me out and we had fun together before we came back.”

“Alright then,” she smiled softly, before the ‘RS’ on Skyler’s dress caught her eye. “By the way, I have a few more of those dresses and skirts if you and Ruby wanna keep these.”

“Thanks, Avery. Good night!”

Skyler and Ruby pushed open the double doors but unfortunately were greeted by Colin. Fortunately, he'd had enough sense to stay away from them. They fixed him with equally hard glares, as their earlier anger rose again. This didn't deter him, not much.

“Look, Sky, Ruby, I-”

“Hold it right there Colin!” Skyler suddenly interrupted him. “I don’t care what kind of excuses you have to say. Since you couldn’t be bothered to say it, I will. We are broken up. I don’t want to see or speak to you ever again!”

“What?! But Sky-”

“And don't call me Sky. Only my friends get to call me that,” she interrupted again.

“And don’t think for a second you’re getting a second date out of me!” Ruby added. “I don’t go for boys, or girls for that matter, who hurt the people I care about!”

And with that, Ruby and Skyler marched upstairs, leaving Colin alone in the hallway.

💙💧💙💧💙💧💙💧💙

As Skyler sank onto her bed, she pulled out her phone and, for the first time that night, noticed her home screen photo. It was her and Colin, in Junior High, dressed up to go to their first dance together, identical indigo tickets in their hands. It had been such a fun night.

She sighed at the now bittersweet memory. As she turned to her side, the rustling of paper in her pocket drew her attention. She pulled it out, admiring the Runway dress on the page, her Runway dress on the page. Determination and confidence filled her once again, identical to when she was sketching her beautiful blue dress.

She couldn't forget all the good times she’d shared with Colin. But she could make new, happier memories, with people she was sure cared about her.

Opening her Settings, she studied the photos taken during the night and selected her favourite: Her and Ruby, one of the first taken together in the salon. Ruby had her arm around her shoulders as she winked at the camera, their glittery hair shining in the light.

She turned off her phone, glanced at her sketch, and slipped it into her Runway sketchbook.

💙💧💙💧💙💧💙💧💙

The following Monday, everyone was still buzzing about the A’s party. Even now, as Runway class and the school day drew to a close, gossip about the aftermath of the evening was interspersed with design confirmations and deliberations.

“Okay, does anyone have anything else they wanna show us?” Jade asked as she closed her sketchbook, previously open on hers and Ruby’s hair and makeup.

“I do!” Skyler excitedly cried, moving to the middle of the table with a sheet of paper in hand.

“I drew this last Friday,” she explained as set it down. “I think it would work for my runway look!”

Everyone admired the blue gown on the page, with its shiny silver details and detailed bodice. Ruby peered to get a good look at it and gasped. It was the dress Skyler had drawn at the party!

“It’s literal perfection!”

“Sick!”

“Blue heart emoji!”

“Rocking Sky!”

“I love it!”

Skyler turned to Ruby, noticing the awe on her face. “What do you think, Ruby?”

She pulled her eyes away, full of pride, a huge smile on her face. “Pure fire, Sky!”

[kaeyazuha]

Can I get a Venti, “And you believed them?” w/ a touch of angst? (romantic please ^^)

Tysm and have a great day~!! <3

cw: mentions of cheating/false accusations, strong language, drunk behavior

angst w/ no happy ending (or a vague ending? idk)

He reeked of alcohol. Hair skewed about and messy, eyes reddened and droopy, even the way he carried himself practically screamed "drunkard." You groaned under your breath at his antics, yet you couldn't help but be concerned. Sure, Venti loved his alcohol, but almost never to the extent of completely losing himself. Even after the longest days, he could still carry a tune or keep up in his daily banter, but now-- ouch.

You winced, watching him fall off the barstool and decline help from those kind enough to offer. Letting out another sigh, you walked over to help him up, but recoiled when he slapped your hand. "Venti??" Came your understandably confused reply, maybe he didn't recognize you?

Seeming oddly aware despite his slurring and swaying, Venti glared at you. "Go away, cheater." Your heart sunk at the disgusted, betrayed expression on his face, it was almost sickening to see the lighthearted bard look so disheartened.

"What are you talking about? Come on, you've had too much to dri-"

"You don't get to tell me what to do! Not after what you did, do I mean nothing to you?!" Now you were angry, watching the light conversation and bustle of the tavern came to a standstill, the lively atmosphere falling victim to your argument.

"I'll ask you one more time before I leave the tavern, what the hell are you talking about?!"

"YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID!!" His voice cracked from the sheer volume. "Everyone saw you with Kaeya, everyone saw! Unlike you, they actually told me what was going on!" He scoffed, taking another drink as hot tears bubbled in his eyes. "You...lied to me." Another swig before his voice took on a mocking tone. "'Commissions'...can't believe I fell for that."

You could hardly see through the boiling rage clouding your eyes and causing an uncomfortable pounding in your head. "They told you this shit, and you believed them?" In order to hide your shaking hands, you crossed your arms and glared at him incredulously. "Kaeya's in Liyue right now in a business meeting, and I was doing commissions all fucking day because you and your 'friends' are too lazy to take care of your own damn city!" His face fell, eyes seeming a lot more alert now, and Venti set down the mug to look at you fully.

Tears dripped from your eyes now, hot and heavy much like the air of the tavern. "I'm thinking it's you who didn't care. You believed some drunkards over your own lover, and you were willing to throw everything away because of it..." Too tired to yell anymore, you swallowed back all of the nasty things you wanted to say right now, and simply slipped your coat back on before brushing past the bard at the door and opening it for yourself. It was hard to ignore the quiet and hesitant, extremely guilty-sounding pleas coming from your drunk excuse of a boyfriend.

"Talk to me when you're sober. Or don't, I can't say I'll forgive you either way." You turned back, well-aware of how everyone either pretended they weren't listening or watched the both of you with eager, disgustingly eager eyes. As if this were a rom-com.

"Goodbye, Venti."

Give me a genshin character, a prompt, specify platonic or romantic, and I'll write you a lil drabble!

[shurisneakers]

harmless (viii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, protesting, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, gamer (derogatory), smidge of angst

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: listen idk what goes on at construction site and im too sexy to research so we’re going with my version of the world. hello. how are we all doing?

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He doesn’t expect to see you on TV. 

In jail maybe, for something scandalous and completely unnecessary, but not TV.

But there you are, a sign board waving around furiously in your hand, voice in protest against the demolition of the community centre. You’re flipping the board back and forth to alternate between the messages you’ve scrawled on the cardboard.

You were among a few protesting, but clearly the loudest. 

He thinks that maybe he has the weekend off if you’re too busy fighting big corporations. He’d send his support even.

Until he zeroes in on the sign when it flips over, finally reading what it says.

You better get your ass here, sarge

And so he does.

Half the crowd had dipped by the time he arrived. You were there, still the loudest, but he couldn’t help but notice the lack of people as compared to an hour or two ago on TV. He supposed that justice could wait as long as it took to get lunch from the nearest café.

“I can’t stop you from protesting, y’know.” He’s a little wary of approaching your raging self. 

“Oh, hey Barnes. You got my message.” You break away for a second to scream a bunch of obscenities at the gigantic glass building before turning to him. “You wouldn’t be able to.”

“What’s your dumb plan then?” 

“First of all, it’s not dumb. It’s stupid. Put some respect on my technological genius.” You held up a finger. “Second of all, it’s not here.”

“Where is it?” 

“At the construction site.” You point down the road. “Come on.”

Right along the way you stop to chant another slogan. He waves his arm around meekly in support. He did, after all, have to stand up for what was right, but if his publicist saw him here she’d have an aneurysm. 

The construction site isn’t very far off. It’s adjacent to the community centre, which he assumes they’re going to tear down to make more space for whatever shitty commercial building was going to take its place.

There are already a few excavators and dozers there but no one to man them since it was lunch time. What garners his attention is the small silver plate that’s on the floor a few feet ahead in the direction you’re walking towards.

“Here.” You stop once it nears. “The plan.”

“Am I supposed to know what this is?” He lightly kicked at it, earning a smack on the arm from you.

“Stop that,” you scolded, “and look at it. It’s not hard to figure out.”

He narrows his eyes. There’s a small u-shaped piece of metal in the middle of the plate. “That’s a magnet.”

“Exactly.” You clapped your hands together in excitement. “The world’s strongest electromagnet.”

He looks around. The only possibly magnetic things are the cranes and excavators around him.

“You’re going to... stop the machines from moving ahead?” he hesitates in his deduction. 

“Yep. Can’t tear anything down if they can’t get to it first.” 

Bucky looks down.

“Does this thing even work?” He toes at it again. “It’s kinda small.”

“It works beautifully, stop kicking at it, you demon-”

“What happens if I step on it, huh?” He knows this would get on your nerves wonderfully. He raises his leg. “Do I get to go home for the day?”

“You’re such a little shit,” you whine, reaching for your back pocket. “Stop bullying my invention.”

“’m gonna squish it like a bug.” He’s only half kidding about that part. “I’m gonna-”

Before he can finish his sentence something yanks him down hard. His head nearly hits the ground before his right arm shoots out to break his fall.

"Woah there, don't go falling for me as yet.” 

“What the fu-” he begins, eyes locking on his metal arm that was pressed flat against the earth.

“I told you it works,” you say smugly. “Try crushing it now, Barnes. If you can even get off the floor.”

He tugs his hand but it’s firmly attached to the thing. No matter how or where he’s applying the effort, his limb refuses to move. He’s stuck.

“Turn it off,” he sighs. “You made your point.”

“No. Stay there.”

“Y/N, shut up and turn this off,” he groans, trying to find a better position rather than chin down on the ground.

“Lay there and rot. You deserve it for underestimating me.” You huff.

“I wasn’t underestimating you, Jesus Christ.” He really was planning to just step on it, but he had complete faith that it worked. 

When he doesn’t receive a reply, his gaze follows yours. Suddenly the crane looks a lot closer than it initially did. Awesome. 

“Those are moving towards me.” He picks up on the low groan and creak of metal.

“Yeah, they are.” You nod, one hand on your hip, watching them.

He didn’t think that getting crushed under construction equipment would be how his day went. 

“Not my problem,” you decide finally after a bout of silence. 

Now that simply wouldn’t do. 

Death was definitely a problem, but what was more important was that he was going to get a dust allergy from the mud. He could already feel the blocked nose and temperature incoming.

“Are you really going to waste this on me? Don’t you have a demolition to stop?” He manages to twist his body so that he’s lying on his back.

“Good point,” you squint into the distance at the whirring of the heavy machinery. Their owners wouldn’t be happy to find them missing from their original spot. “But I still can’t help you out.”

“You’re willing to sacrifice your-”

“I can’t help you out because I don’t have an off switch. Yet,” you add the last part in a hurry.

“Then when the fuck were you planning to build one?” He sits up, leaning on his elbow. The cranes weren’t a mini object on the horizon now; the closer they got, the faster they were starting to move towards him. 

“I don’t know, after they agreed not to take down the building?”

He could just detach his arm and come back for it later he but had no guarantee that you would stop here for the day or that the vibranium could withstand all that pressure. 

“You better make a switch right now and get me out of this, I don’t care how.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, bending to assess how badly he was stuck. “You know, this thing runs really deep into the earth. It’d take forever to dig back up and then get you back to my lab and then build a switch.”

“How long?” He didn’t have a lot of time, clearly, but even generally he didn’t have the whole day to waste. He had a mission the next day. He had to put the fear of death into some Russians and bring some pirozhki back for Nat. 

“I don’t know,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Too long for my schedule anyway, I have class prep to do.”

“Motherfucke- that thing’s like twenty feet away.” He’s worried about how you don’t look fazed at all when he points at the stupid machine.

He’s about to volunteer to detach his arm when he realises it’s definitely less than twenty feet now. He had a backup just in case. It didn’t move as smoothly, but who could tell the difference when a couple of tons of pressure was aiming for your face, and hell, if he explained his circumstances of the destruction of his arm to T’Challa-

“Okay, fine.” You reach into your backpack to grab something that looked like a wrist watch. It matched the one already around your hand. 

You reach over and clasp it around his hand before turning a dial on the side.

“You ready?” you ask, ignoring the large crane that was starting to charge towards you. 

“For what?” he replies, looking down at it. He can barely hear you over the sound of the whining of machinery.  

“Teleportation, baby.” You send him a big grin before slamming down on his watch.

“Huh-” His voice cuts off immediately. 

If there’s anything that can be said about teleportation, it’s that he feels like every atom in his entire body violently splits to float around briefly before suddenly rejoining again.  

The ground beneath him feels different, and it takes him a second to realise that he was on the floor of your lair. 

“What the fu-”

“Hello,” your voice comes from above him. 

“You can teleport.” It’s not difficult for him to look at you now without the sun in his face. His arm is still stuck to the magnet but since the giant rod it was attached to was no longer deep in the ground, he could lift the entire apparatus up relatively easily.

“What, like it’s hard?” You discarded your bag on the floor. “You good? Takes a while to get used to.”

He gives you a grunt in acknowledgement, shaking his arm to see if he had any luck. It didn’t budge.

“Come on, take a seat.” You gesture to a lab chair you’ve pulled up for him on the raised platform at the front of the room. He realises that this is the first time he’s properly seen what’s actually inside your lair.

There are various buttons that do God knows what, drawers and cabinets painted black, several computer screens and gigantic pillars of glass on either side of the set up that encapsulate some green bubbling liquid. There’s a giant television set up against the wall, divided into several screens.

“Whaddya think?” You do a small swoop of your arm to show off the place.

“Gamer,” he says simply, testing his luck.

“What did you just say to me?” you recoil instantly, disgust on your face.

“It’s a gamer set up.” He points a finger at the TV screen. He was told by Shuri to use it as an insult, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. It just felt appropriate. 

“Take that back right now.” You raise a finger accusatorially at him.

“No.” He was sticking with it even though he had no idea what exactly the context was.

“Fuck your arm,” you announce, throwing your hands up in surrender.

“Fuck your demolition then,” he replies simply, getting up from his place on the chair to leave with the thing still attached to him. 

He takes one step ahead before your voice rings out.

“Sit down, drama queen,” your voice calls from behind him. “God, you’re annoying.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“I’m the best part of your week,” you fire back, ”and also your only way out of this. Now sit down.”

He didn’t even need the second warning, he was already on the chair the first time around.

“I’m not going to build a switch to turn this off. It’d take too long,” you examine the piece of equipment with more gentleness than he was expecting, “I’m going to remove it instead. It’s gonna take a while, so you better get comfortable.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s so sad,” you say without any indication of wanting to help. 

He rolls his eyes.

You pull up next to him, welding glasses covering your face and the tool in your hand. 

He turns away when you start, making sure his face is not directly within its trajectory. 

He makes himself busy by looking around some more. There are details you’ve put into the place, materials that are non-flammable made up most of the architecture. It’s dramatic, sure, but somehow the designs and colours seemed to go together. It did look sinister, he’d give you props for that.

The space was quite big. It occurs to him only then that that’s how you manage to sneak up on him so often in the past. Everything clicked. Fucking teleportation.

“So,” your voice was raised to speak over the noise. “How’s it going?”

He decidedly doesn’t answer. His position is more than enough.

“Right.” You clear your throat. 

He takes to counting the tiles on the floor, figuring out how many were there from the raised platform to the wall of the entrance. 

“Not how you imagined your day to go, huh?” you continued despite his lack of response. “But some might say it’s a privilege to be spending the day with a cool, mad scie-”

“Are you going to keep talking?” he interrupts, losing his count on the floor.

“Yeah, duh,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You got anything better to do?”

He didn’t. 

“What’s it like living with a bunch of superheroes?” You change course. He’s not sure if he’s really allowed to disclose top secret information. “I assume there’s a lot of protein shakes, talcum powder for the chafing-”

Then again, how much damage could you do by knowing that Steve preferred pancakes over waffles?

“It’s quiet,” he says. “Most of the time.”

“Save all your smart talking for the battlefield, huh?” 

He doesn’t reply. It’s quiet around the Tower. A lot of their energy goes towards missions and recuperating once they’re back. 

“You go on missions a lot?” 

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Boo, you whore,” you say with mock disappointment.

He got that reference.

“What’s your favourite food then?”

He scrunches his eyebrows.

“What?” The welding stops for a second while you look at him. “Don’t tell me that’s classified too.”

It’s not, he’s just never thought about it. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, “Pasta?”

“Vague, but I’ll take it.”

He used to boil a lot of pasta, from what he could remember of his days in hiding. Cheap and bought in bulk before he saved up enough to buy things like fruits. A lot of the times the amount of sauce he had access to was enough for maybe seasoning, not a whole component on its own. 

It’s one of the perks of being a free man in the 21st century he thinks, a steaming bowl of fettuccini drenched in sauce and garlic bread on the side. 

“What do you do in your downtime?”

“Nothing.” Well, he considers it to be a pass time and doing nothing is a full time gig. It takes effort to do nothing. He even has days dedicated to doing nothing, as suggested to him by his therapist.

“Really?” You sound a little surprised, although it’s hard to make out when you’re already speaking a lot louder than usual. “No shining your penny collection? No software update for this thing?” You tap at his arm. 

There really isn’t anything. Truth be told, he thinks he’s the most boring guy in the Tower. He sticks to himself, has a few succulents that he adores and occasionally watches trashy television. So then why are you so interested in him?

“You’re obsessed with me,” he says pointedly. “Why?”

You give a short laugh. “I think it’s the blue eyes, sarge, they’re really popping today. Gotta say, I’m loving this colour on you. Is it different from the black you wore last week? And from the one from the week before that?”

He looks down at his dark t-shirt and utility pants. He had other clothes but those were reserved for things that were not this.

“Or maybe it’s the grumpiness, I don’t know. I love it when someone shows absolutely no interest in me. Very sexy of you.” Oh jeez, you were going to continue. “Hell, maybe it’s the thighs-”

“Okay,” he interjects, feeling the need to count the tiles more than ever. He equates the heat in his neck from the welding going on beside him. 

The loudness of your laughter is clearer than the sound of metal on metal when you tug a large piece of the invention off. Things were moving fast. He could get back home to his Star Trek marathon and forget this day ever happened.

“You know, you’re more interesting than you think,” you pipe up casually. 

He doesn’t expect this and therefore he supposes he can’t stop the curiosity from enveloping his face. He hasn’t told you anything about himself, so then the inference you reached came out of nowhere.

Apparently, you take notice of the confusion on his face, even though he can’t see through the giant welding mask, because you let out a chuckle. 

“Oh, come on, really? You have no idea?” you ask lightly, pausing to see if he offers anything other than silence. “You’ve come back almost every week even though you know it’s a waste of your time, you always keep your promises and I know for a fact that if you wanted to stop me once and for all, you could have. But you’re not.”

He doesn’t realise you’ve stopped welding until you start again. Good, it gives him an excuse not to have to look at you after that. 

Frankly, he’s a little stunned.

You’re not looking at him, he can tell from his peripheral vision. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a small crush on me.”

At that, he’s forced to roll his eyes out of instinct. Thankfully you do know better.

A few screws out later, another piece comes out. You inform him that’s it’s going to get trickier from there since the circuit was a little more intricate, a lot more time than the original few pieces. He can see his Star Trek marathon fade away in the distance.

You ask him a few more questions. Some he answers with silence, others maybe a tidbit here and there. 

“How’s dating now compared to the forties?”

“Strange.” He purses his lips in thought. “One guy asked for a gym date. Didn’t know that was a thing.”

“How’d that turn out?” you laugh.

“He didn’t ask for a second one.” His Bumble matches with girls somehow had gone down since he cut his hair, but he’s not too bothered. Not like there was a huge shortage. 

He likes cats, thinks the worst merchandise that they make is the stupid baseball card with his face on it, and doesn’t have social media for the sake of his sanity. He’s seen the thirst tweets. 

Clearly, he’s revealed his deepest, darkest secrets. Utterly classified material. But he doesn’t know anything about you other than your name, number, address, where you teach, what your hobby is-

“You, uh-” he hesitates, “You got a favourite food?”

Your hands hold still to hover above what they’re working on. You fight back a smile. “Sure do.”

He asks a few more questions. Shuts up when he feels his social battery drain. That’s enough for the next month, he thinks.

The sun’s dipped down beyond the horizon by the time majority of the work is completed. Both of you have taken a few breaks to fight the feeling of stiffness that was creeping into your joints. 

You scoff and tell him you’re not planning to poison him when he denies the offer of a soda. He doesn’t deter in his decision.

“How much to go?” He has a mission tomorrow that he’d really like to get some sleep in before. Waking up at 3am to get ready was the worst part of the job. 

“Basically done.” You roll your chair back, rotating your shoulder and stretching your fingers. “There’s just this little part that I can’t access from this angle. How good are you at hanging upside down like a bat?”

Fuck it, he sighs to himself, it was almost finished anyway.

Bucky stands up, tilting his neck to the side slightly before pulling at a small latch under his arm, one so tiny that you’d never make out was even there unless you knew it existed. The arm releases from his shoulder with a small click.

He offers it to you, a piece of your magnet still attached to it.

Your eyes are slightly wide. He raises his eyebrows.

You don’t say anything, just accept it and flip it to a position you were comfortable with. It takes only a minute or two for the sound of the last piece hitting the floor to reverberate through the hall.

You give a small cheer. He lets out a tiny exhale in equal parts fatigue and relief.

“So,” you drawl, handing his arm back to him, “you could have just done that the whole time.”

He doesn’t reply, just slides it back onto his shoulder. 

“You had the option of leaving your arm here and coming back later to get it.” 

He gives it a few shakes, opens and clenches his fist shut a few times to make sure everything is working.

“You wanted to talk to me.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “I was distracting you.”

“Bullshit,” you laugh.

“Believe what you must.” He shrugs, turning around. “My job here is done regardless.”

“Oh, I believe alright,” you call out from behind him as he walks towards the entrance of your lair. “I believe you’re a sneaky bastard, Bucky Barnes.”

He doesn’t stop himself from smiling at the overdramatic gasp you give when he flips you a middle finger. From the metal arm, too. 

Next part

[sevendeadlymorons]

Can I request a part two of the demon brothers reacting to MC being attacked by a demon...... Like after MC saw them kill the demon in such brutal ways, what if they began being scared of the brothers? Seeing them mercilessly kill the demon reminded MC exactly of what the brothers are: Demons.

ANGST ANGST ANGST

Brothers Reaction to MC Fearing Them

WARNING: Angst

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Lucifer

When you two get back to the house, he turns around to ask if you’re alright only to be greeted by two huge terrified eyes

He reached forward but you recoil away from him, your hands trembling as you attempt to push him away from you

The image of him destroying that demons body in a fit of rage lingers in your mind and you find yourself hyperventilating as you escape from him

He figures you would be quite scared of him after that display of violence. He sighs and goes back to his room, figuring that you’d be alright later but actually worrying that you’ll hate him forever deep down

Every passing day, you avoided him though, your eyes shaking in terror and your heart racing whenever he came too close to you and you couldn’t listen to a word he said anymore

Seeing you ignore him and only feel fear towards him broke his heart and he regrets everything that’s happened that night, he’s all alone once again, without you by is side

The overwhelming fear that he’d now implanted inside of you was too much and you often found yourself having nightmares of Lucifer’s face when he mercilessly slaughtered your attacker, the face of a true demon

Mammon

As soon as you got home, his hands were on your shoulders, back to shaking you and asking so many questions. He didn’t even realise the traumatised look you had in your eyes

You slap away his hands, moving yourself away from him with your hands to your chest in fear, his eyes glaring at you, a new terrifying fear that’s now been unlocked for you

You scamper away, desperate to get away from him only to see him follow you, his long strides so different and inhumane to yours

You slam the door in his face, your heart beating wildly and your breathing unsteady as you hear him pounding on the door

He doesn’t understand why you were running from him, he just saved your life? He figured you may need some space after watching him kill that demon though...

Days turned to weeks, you avoided him still, whenever he reached out for you, you’d move away, shaking once again like you expect him to attack you, and that hurt him so much more than he’d like to ever admit...

It didn’t matter how long it’d been, you still trembled when near him, your hands permanently shaking in fear and your mind racking with awful memories of the true demon, Mammon

Leviathan

He breathes a sigh of relief as you two get to the house, immediately turning around to apologise for his actions back there only to see you cowering in fear

He looks at you, terrified that his suspicions of you fearing him were correct. He reaches forward to touch you but he’s pushed away, your hands shaking as you cramp yourself into a corner

He then watches you escape from him in the blink of an eye, leaving him all alone in an empty room with only his racing insecurities and his shame

He falls to his knees, holding his head in his hands as he realises how much he may’ve fucked up, the image of your terrified face stuck in his mind

Weeks pass and nothing changes, you still recoil away from him and stutter when you speak. You’re absolutely petrified by him and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he could attack you like that at any time too

He knew things would never go back to the way they used to be, not after what he did, he’s so ashamed, why did he do it...?

He always tries to speak to you but you run away, his heart breaking slowly each time as he realises he may’ve lost his only true friend and it’s all his fault for losing his temper

Satan

His hand was still wrapped around your wrist when you two finally got back home, his anger subsiding already as he turns to face you

He’s soon greeted by a terrified human, your eyes darting down to his hand that was firmly wrapped around your wrist, pulling away in an attempt for him to let you go

He does and you quickly sprint off away from him, leaving him confused and now alone, just him and his rage

He knew you may be quite fearful at the start but he never expected this, even as days passed and you continued to avoid him, he never quite expected it

Your eyes were so full of fear, repetitive thoughts of how he tore that demon apart and the undying fear he could do the same to you whenever he likes stuck with you

He tries to explain how he’d never hurt you every single day but you wouldn’t listen to him, all he gets in response is a whimper and those painful terrified eyes of yours that rips up his heart every single time

He slowly watched you see him as he truly was: a heartless demon, and that completely destroyed him...

Asmodeus

He was holding your waist tightly when he entered the house, completely ignoring the fact you were trembling in his embrace, your eyes bulging with pure fear

He finally looks down just as you push him away from you, your back pressed against the wall as you watch him step closer

You start to hyperventilate, rushing away from him desperately as you feel his eyes burn holes into the back of your head, the vision of him murdering that demon stuck on replay in your mind as you run far away

Asmo shrugs it off and decides to check on you later, going to his bathroom to wash off all the blood and nasty grime he’d collected

But he never got that chance to check on you as he found you never left your room, constantly finding you avoiding him and staring at him in disgust, his mind constantly wondering what exactly he did wrong

In truth, he knew what he did, but he didn’t think it would affect you this much. He’d try to apologise but you wanted nothing of him, his heart aching at each rejection and at each terrified stare you gave him

After months, he started to realise how distant you were and he missed you, but he knew he couldn’t reverse what he did in front of you

Beelzebub

You were in a state of panic when Beel refused to let you go, his arms wrapped around you, making you feel trapped

He looks down at you, now realising your traumatised face, your arms wrapped around yourself as you couldn’t stop yourself from shaking

He puts you down and reaches out to check if you’re alright, but he felt a slap across his cheek soon after and then you were gone. His mind was running wild with so many thoughts of if you hated him now, were you scared of him...?

He didn’t see you as much after, your gazes never meeting even when he was being friendly with you, you just looked so scared and he felt so guilty

He watched you slowly recluse yourself, all because of him. His actions and what he did right in front of you. He never thought about what that could do to a humans mental state

Every time you thought about him, no matter what you did you were filled with irrational thoughts and traumatic images of that lifeless demons body, a cause of Beel’s unthinkable actions

Months have passed and everything’s stayed the same, except this time, he feels just that bit more alone

Belphegor

When you got home, your mind kept replaying the brutal scene you just witnessed, your eyes darting back to Belphegor then to his hand that was laced around your small wrist

Your breathing hitched as you tried to pull away, watching him stare at you in confusion then slowly recognise that same look of fear in your eyes from that night

He let’s go immediately, reaching forward to calm you down as he starts to panic with you, but you’d already left, ran away from him in pure terror once again

He falls to the ground, his back pressed against the wall as he realises you hate him all over again, all the progress he made with you had now gone to shit

And he was right, your eyes never met his and his displays of affection towards you was rejected with pure fear in your voice and eyes

He promised he’d never hurt you, so why didn’t you believe him, why did you have to fear him all over again? What can he do to make you realise you were so precious to him?

He blames himself all over again, he knew you’d hate his ugly side, who wouldn’t? Now you see him as he truly is... a demon

Part 1 is here

[mass-effect-anonymous]

CONFESSION

So awhile back there was a Jill Critical confession (which I agreed with) but the confessor also mentioned how the fandom should not always assume that every gay man wants to be a father. That confession resonated with me because I'm tired of people always assuming every lesbian wants to have babies. My twin brother and I are the third and fourth of eight siblings. He is also child free by choice because we ended up losing a lot of our childhood taking care of our younger brothers and sister.

I'm blessed to have a soulmate who also is child free as she is the third child in a family of six. Now I know everyone has the right to their headcanons but every time I see fan art of a female Shepard raising blue babies with Liara I recoil. I especially can't stand those game renders where all the Asari toddlers look like like miniaturized Liara clones. The fan art with Garrus and Shepard raising babies of the various races also skeeves me out. Of course I don't comment on it but I always scroll by those images with disdain and disgust. In my mind I always figure if Shepard survived, the the thought of babies with her beloved would never be on her mind. My Shepard would recover but she would never be 100% of what she used to be. She would want to retire and fade away to obscurity either with or without her soulmate. She would have a lot of pets and only a few of her closest friends would know where she is.

My wife and I have gotten so much crap for not getting on the Lesbian Mom bandwagon. One time one of our friends said we have to 'beat the straights' by being better parents. My wife flew into a rage at them because she is a social worker and had several cases where she had to remove children from lesbian couples due to abuse and neglect. Sure its great we can have children, and have families but some of us can be horrible parents too. There is so much pressure to have children in this day and age. And having kids should NOT be about competing. We have actually lost friends because of our choice.

My own mother even assumed my wife would get a "donation" from my brother so we could have a baby and even used the term 'Uncle daddy'. I already have four nephews and two nieces!!!!! I love that my mom accepts us but using that term is just so gross!! I just would like to know if if there are other lesbians in the fandom who are child free or plan to be and they picture their Shepards being childfree. I can't be the only one who sees her Shepard enjoying a peaceful private life surrounded by pets.

Confession in response to this confession

[aikoiya]

DP HC - MRA Tucker

You know what'd be really interesting & even sorta big brained? If Tucker Foley turned out to be a closet Men's Rights Activist, but because Sam is a huge Feminist who, I think would be, regularly known to oppose the Men's Rights movement, he keeps it under his hat.

But when it comes out that he is, it's because he'd gone to an MRA rally in town square when a group of Neo-Feminists, Sam included, showed up to heckle them. That's when Sam saw him there with a sign & acts betrayed & tries to argue with him over women's rights & ask why he wants to oppress her & other women, even going so far as to call him an incel.

Tucker is insulted & says that, yes, he supports men's rights &, yeah, he can be a bit of an ass to women. But that was his cross to bare & he admitted that he really needed to work on that. But that not every member of the Men's Rights Activist group was like that. He then asks why wanting equal rights for men somehow means that he wants to oppress women. He loves girls, girls are great! He doesn't wanna take away their rights. They worked hard for them, but that doesn't mean that he's just gonna sit down & roll over while abusive women get to do what they damn well please.

He then uses his PDA to show her the statistics as he goes on a rant about how more men commit suicide, how men are more likely to lose their kids in custody battles, more men face homelessness, that men were just as likely to face abuse & rape as women, & that an overwhelming amount of men are falsely accused of rape, but because the media never shows that part, those men are forever labeled rapists. Which is something that can absolutely ruin a person's life.

Yet despite that, there's a significant amount of women's shelters & only one men's shelter.

Sam tries to spin all these statements into some sort of anti-women declaration. That, sure, more men die as a result of suicide, but more women attempt it. How it shouldn't be expected that women take care of kids, so somehow, the fact that a lot of men lose the rights to their children was actually a women's rights issue. And then accused him of thinking that it wasn't a big deal if women got raped. Which got a reaction of disbelief & disgust from him.

Then, Tucker told her to look around her. Everything she sees was built by a man. Sam recoiled, face turning horribly red with rage.

Seeing her expression, he then tells her to look around again. Everyone she sees was birthed from a woman.

Sam became confused by his sudden turnaround, but agreed.

"Was my first statement anti-woman?" Sam snapped yes. "Then, was my second statement anti-man?" Sam said no.

Then, Tucker said that these 2 statements have the same weight & were both irrevocably true & asked why it was that they got such polarizing reactions from her. They both mirror each other, in severity. Why can a chick say that every person was birthed from a woman & it's not anti-man, but if a dude says that everything around you was built by men, he's trying to oppress you?

He asks why is it that women are put on a pedestal & men are expected to kneel at the base. "I refuse to apologize for being a dude. That's like you having to apologize for being a chick, which would be wrong! I'm not against women's rights! None of MRA is! We just think that men should have representation too!"

It goes on & on until they end up storming off. It's like the Veggies vs Meat fight all over again, yet somehow more serious & with higher stakes. Yet, that fight had never really gotten resolved, just swept under the rug to bubble up all over again later.

A/N: A lot of the asserions here are based on a Ted Talk made by a lady who did a documentary on Men's Rights. I don't know her name, but if you find it, you should check it out.

[duskandstarlight]

Embers & Light: Chapter 43.5

Notes: So when I posted last week I realised a few hours later that I hadn’t posted the whole chapter! So, here you go. An early, albeit short, update. Thanks as usual to my beta @noirshadow, who is incredibly patient with all my E&L ramblings and makes sure my writing actually makes sense!

Chapter 43.5

Nesta

Cold air snapped at Nesta’s body as Sala flew her to Lorrian and Frawley’s. Cassian travelled behind her, trailing her path, the beat of his wings grating on her until she wanted to scream. 

Of course, he hadn’t let her fly alone. He’d had to make sure that she was safe. That bond again, dictating his desires. Nesta didn’t understand why he couldn’t see that.

By the time she landed, Nesta had whipped herself into a fury that was frantic in its making—quivering with an energy that made her want to roar and sob until she was consumed with it.

“You’ve done your job,” she spat at Cassian, as he landed softly on his feet beside her with a neat retraction of his wings. “Now leave me alone.

They had landed just before the pine trees of the Eastern Steppes, where the forest decided to part for its witch and her home. The pine needles blocked out the sparkling stars above, casting the forest into smudgy shadows that made it near impossible for Nesta to pick her way across the ground, despite her fae eyesight. 

When she stumbled, Cassian flared his magic to light the way but, thankfully, he did not dare reach for her. Loose roots and fallen branches created obstacles underfoot, but Nesta let her body tackle them blindly until she cleared the tree line and suddenly she could see again.

Nesta picked up her pace, storming along the paddock fence as the cottage came into view. The building’s shape was blanketed by a coal-night hue, save for the buttery light that fogged around Lorrian and Frawley’s bedroom window. Besides the smoke puffing from the chimney, the night was alarmingly still, as if had taken in a gasping breath in anticipation of what was to unfold beneath it. 

The absence of Illyria’s fierce wind in Nesta’s anger felt foreign and infuriating, so Nesta walked faster, creating her own breeze. But the soft caress against her cheeks rather than the hurricane she longed for only served to sharpen the blade of her anger until it was lethal.

“Running away again,” Cassian growled from close behind her, his resolve to stay silent clearly breaking as Nesta stormed past the paddock entrance. He caught her wrist with a leather-clad hand and Nesta’s body jerked backwards as she was pulled towards him. 

“Why are you fighting this?” he asked as she snarled at him with such savagery it sounded like a wild animal. His voice cracked like ice over a river. “Why are you fighting something that I know makes you happy. I can make you happy, Nesta.”

“Stop it,” Nesta cut back, the slash in her voice a warning just as much as her words. Because Cassian sounded so agonisingly sad it bruised her lungs, every breath coiled with pain. 

“I’m not letting go,” Cassian told her, and they both knew the meaning was figurative as well as literal as he searched her face for something that would tell him to stay. “You can shout and scream and bite all you want, but you are not running away from me again. Not this time.”

Go home, Cassian.

“I don’t need someone to make me happy,” Nesta spat. “I can be happy independently of you.”

“You can have both.”

A cold, cruel laugh bubbled out of her. “Is that what you tell yourself every day when you pretend you can wear me down? Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing? That you’re hoping I’ll give in and accept a bond I have explicitly told you I do not want?”

Cassian didn’t let go of her. Instead, he pushed her hand back to her as if it disgusted him to hold onto her. Nesta caught how his black hair sifted, the strands shining in the starlight, just before she turned her back to him.

It wasn’t too late to catch the curl of his lip and the way hurt seized the green and brown of his eyes. “You think I lie to myself? Nesta, you pull the wool over your eyes every damn day!” The last three words were staccato, thudding after her as she all but spirited away from him on a storm wind. “You have wanted me since you met me. Admit it. You want me and I want you. It’s simple. It’s all simple if you’d just stop fighting—”

The audacity to insinuate that Nesta’s feelings were inconsequential was too much. It hurt more than anything else Cassian had ever said, the rest of his barbs merely needles to this blade. Because none of what was between them was simple. It was a tangled web of terror and confusion and a desperate need Nesta did not understand.

The ignorance—the implied slight at her intelligence—had Nesta whirling, cutting Cassian off mid-sentence. Magic thundered through her veins, her power barrelling to her palms. She had to expel it—had to let it out like a curdling scream. Without thinking, she flung out her hands.

Nesta’s magic flew, roaring silver flames closing the distance between them. All she cared about was making Cassian recoil when her fire sizzled into nothing millimetres from his face. All she needed to see was the froth of his anger as it finally boiled over and met hers. 

But Cassian moved quicker than Nesta had ever seen him. Red light shot from his siphons but this time there was no shield like there had been all of those months ago. Magic barrelled from his chest, his shoulders, his knees, the backs of his hands to meet hers—all of that magnificent power channelled towards her. 

Scarlet and silver lit up the clearing, bathing their surroundings like glistening blood. Nesta braced herself for the slamming impact, expected for them to both be thrown backwards, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead, her body was seized with a sudden vigour—like a wonderful, gasping breath. And their magic… it didn’t clash. No, their jets of power melded together, silver meeting red until it formed a smooth running stream. It glimmered, quiet and calm in contrast, like the calm and tranquil night sky.

It felt right and wonderful and infuriating. Even Nesta’s magic was betraying her. Even her power couldn’t help but want him, even when she was incandescent with rage for the warrior before her.

Unleashing a growl of anger, Nesta dropped her hands in defeat. They hung at her sides, a useless deadweight. She was panting hard, even though what she’d just done hadn’t exerted her—it had been easy and right and thrilling, as if she’d just woken up from a very long sleep.

For a moment, there was only silence. Cassian’s chest was heaving, his hair as wild as hers. His hands were still outstretched towards her, each and every one of his siphons activated and glowing. Like her, he was staring wide-eyed at the magic that hung overhead like a mist, their very own canvas of stars.

When his eyes flicked to hers, the shock in them was still stark. In fact, Nesta could have sworn she spied terror in them. He stepped forward—her Cassian—but Nesta stepped back. A disgruntled growl rumbled in the back of his throat, and then he was striding towards her before she could even think about moving away from him. Stopped when he was a breath away from her.

Pine and musk wound around her body in an invisible embrace and Nesta’s face crumpled at the familiarity of it. She wished she was curled up beside Cassian in bed, her limbs tangled in his, her nose buried in his neck. She wished she’d never challenged him for answers in the bedroom earlier. Wished she was still living in blissful ignorance.  

Two calloused hands came to frame her face and Nesta couldn’t find the will to shake them off. Couldn’t. 

“Nesta,” Cassian rasped.

Nesta managed to shake her head. Go away. Please.

Cassian’s expression broke even as it remained still. Nesta didn’t understand how, but it did. It was something behind his eyes—the faint flicker of his eyebrows as they dipped in and out of a frown. 

But Cassian didn’t drop his hands from her cheeks, as if he knew she didn’t really want him to leave her. Brushed his thumbs over her cheeks—wiping away the tracks of fury that had fallen from the corners of her eyes.

“Do you want me or not?” Cassian asked quietly, after a long while. His eyes searched into her silver eyes—pierced her soul. Flames danced in the reflection of his irises. And Nesta knew that this was taking everything for him to ask it out loud. “Do you want me, Nesta?”

Run, run, run, the Cauldron mused in Nesta’s head, as it cast that sleepy eye on her. 

Nesta shrugged out of Cassian’s embrace. Her movements were syrupy, as if the air around her had thickened, but still she managed to turn. Her entire body was shaking—whether it was from that leftover rage, or because her heart was breaking, Nesta wasn’t sure.

A sob heaved through her body but Nesta caught it before she made a sound. She couldn’t let Cassian see it. Couldn’t let him know how much she was affected by him. 

Slowly, Nesta walked to the cottage. She was still coated in Cassian’s magic, his scent on her tongue both divine and hellish. And that alone made her want to cry even more. It served as a reminder that she was constantly at war with herself. This battle that had been thrust upon her, chaining her free will and making her question everything.

“Leave me alone,” Nesta ordered flatly, without looking behind her.

Nesta didn’t know why she expected Cassian to stay. To fight. But the sound of beating wings filled Nesta’s ears just as she reached the backdoor. It felt as if someone had closed a fist around her heart, squeezing and squeezing until the blood ran dry and veins popped under the pressure. 

Frawley was waiting at the threshold, her expression grim. The witch held the door open in invitation.

But Nesta paused. Turned back to the paddock.

Cassian was gone.

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