#i barely slept last night debating whether or not to go in today

[lady-harrowhark]

a fun little thing about growing up as a chronically ill child with invalidating parents is that as an adult i feel like a criminal when i call out of work

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online Matchup 4

Summery: Y/N makes a trip back home last minute, ruining Jason's plan for a breakfast date, but that won't stop him from coming up with a different plan.

Warning: swearing, talk of surgery, Jason's being a sweetheart, fluff

A/n: this is becoming one of my comfort fics to write, and I can't be mad about it. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. Feedbacks always welcome

Words: 3097

Ao3

Series master list

——

October 8

Jason (6:40am) Good morning How are you this beautiful morning?

Y/N Why in the everloving fuck are you awake at six in the morning?

Jason Aren’t you a potty mouth in the early mornings Someone should teach you a lesson

Y/N It’s to early for anything right now

Jason’s May I remind you, that you’re awake this early too

Y/N My sister decided it was the perfect time to call me Apparently it couldn’t wait until I was awake enough to call her back And now I can’t sleep

Jason Everything okay?

Y/N Define okay?

Jason It’s your dad isn’t it?

Y/N Yeah I don’t know, I don’t want to talk about it

Jason Fair enough

Y/N Now answer my question

Jason Demanding Wanted to know how you were doing after last night

Y/N Better now that I’ve slept I wish I could sleep longer tho Though my eyes hurt and it feels like I have a hangover

Jason Consequences of crying before bed

Y/N Make it go away

Jason Wanna meet for breakfast? Y/N?

Y/N (8:35am) Oh, sorry I fell asleep

Jason Uh huh It has nothing to do with the fact that I asked if you wanted to go for breakfast

Y/n Mm don’t know what you’re talking about And isn’t there a rule where a guy has to wait a least three days Before you ask the girl out again

Jason Apparently My brother advised me the same thing But since I could care less what he thinks about my relationship I have decided to ignore him and take the plunge and ask you anyways Besides he barely listens to his own advice So to each their own I guess

Y/N Why do I get the feeling that you ignore your brother a lot

Jason Couldn’t tell you So, breakfast?

Y/N Uh, wish I could But I have a train to catch 

Jason Where’s it going?

Y/N Metropolis 

Jason You're going home? Why so sudden?

Y/n The call with my sister? Apparently my dad is having surgery and my mom wants everyone there until he’s done Don’t know why I have to go, by the time I’m there it’ll probably be over

Jason Yikes What’s the surgery for?

Y/N Dunno, something to do with something? I’m not sure, I was half asleep when she called And she used that to her advantage and got me to agree to go home today

Jason Don’t you have class tomorrow?

Y/N Not until the afternoon

Jason Work?

Y/n Not until Tuesday 

Jason Huh

Y/n Yup tbh I rather spend my Sunday with you then go home But it’s family and I can’t say no to my sister

Jason I get that family’s first But I would choose you over my family

Y/n … You can’t just say that!

Jason But flustering you is becoming my favourite past time

Y/n Get a new one!

Jason Nah, don’t think I will Okay, so no breakfast How about I drop you off at the station?

Y/N Tempting But if you do, then I’ll miss the train Because I wanna kiss your stupid face And besides, I’m almost there

Jason My face isn’t stupid … You wanna kiss me? Colour me flattered

Y/n I rescind my statement 

Jason Can’t do that, it’s in writing Hold on, when you said you were sleeping You were actually packing, weren’t you?

Y/N Guilty I’m sorry I’ve spent thirty minutes debating on whether or not to ditch my family for you

Jason But in the end you’re ditching me Feels like your running from something I see how it is

Y/N I’m sorry D: I’m not running away or anything 

Jason It’s okay, really I’m not mad or anything Okay, maybe a little disappointed But he’s your dad and you don’t know when’s the next time you see him So it’s okay, don’t feel bad I’ll wait around until your back And I know your not, I just took the joke too far and I’m sorry

Y/n I’m still sorry

Jason Can I call you?

Y/N Uhhhhhhh Give me a minute 

Jason Take as much time as you need I can wait

Y/n Sweet of you But I needed to find a seat first And then my headphones

Jason So You’re good now?

Y/n Yup

It didn’t take more than a second before your phone rang after you sent the message.

“I thought you wanted to call?” you answered, moving your phone so Jason could see your face. He shrugged, shooting you a smile.

“Wanted to see your pretty face is all,” he said, and you could feel your face heat up at the compliment. Averting your eyes, you sink in your seat, trying to hide your face in your sweater. “Awe, is this what you look like when you get flustered? There’s no way I can't stop flustering you now. If this is what your reaction is going to be every time I do.”

“I’m hanging up now,” you mumbled into your sweater, and wondered if he heard that. Judging by the smile he gave you, he did.

“Nah, I don’t think so. You called my face pretty and you wanted to kiss it,” he said. That made you come out of your sweater and glared at him.

“I think I said stupid face,” you corrected, “you have a stupid face.”

“That you want to kiss,” Jason pointed out with a smile. You stuck out your tongue at him, making him laugh. “How’s the train ride?”

You shrugged, shifting in your seat trying to get comfortable. “A train ride I guess. We just left the station and it’ll be two hours until we get to Metropolis? My butts gonna hurt once I get there.”

“Gotta walk around once in a while,” Jason reminded, “did you bring anything for the ride?”

“Yeah, homework I still need to finish, my sketchbook and some books I’ve been meaning to read.”

“Sounds like a party,” Jason joked. You huffed out a laugh.

“Oh yeah, real life of the party over here.” 

Before either of you could continue, you faintly heard a door slamming open and closing before hearing a faint call of Jason! You promised me breakfast! From what you could make out, it was a female voice and you pushed down the bout of jealousy that came from nowhere. You didn’t have the right to be jealous. Jason wasn’t yours, he was his own person and you two weren’t seeing each other officially. He was free to do what he pleased. Still, you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt.

You watched as Jason scowled, and turned towards the voice. “Yeah, give me a minute I’m on the phone.”

You schooled your features and raised an eyebrow as he turned back to his phone. “You already had breakfast plans, yet you still tried to make them with me? Wow Jason, didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m not a two timing bitch,” he clarified and you blanched at the statement. Damn, and you thought you hid it well. “And like I said before, I’d ditch my family for you any day of the week without question.”

“Aw Jason, you’d ditch your own sister! I see how it is,” the female voice said. Jason made a face as a blond haired girl came into frame, hanging off of Jason’s shoulders. Her nose pressed into his cheek and she smiled. “Tell me how you really feel, Jason.”

“Okay, I will,” he said, shoving her off, “you’re an annoying little shit.” She laughed and turned towards the phone. She was pretty, you had to admit.

“Oh, Tim’s right. You are cute,” she said, and you pulled your sweater over your mouth, trying to keep a laugh in as Jason looked offended.

“Steph!” he yelled, shoving her face out of frame. “Go away.”

“No, you promised me breakfast last night, and I demand pancakes,” she said, coming back in, shoving Jason out of frame as she did so. She turned to you and smiled. “Hello, I’m Jason’s sister Stephanie. You must be Y/N, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard virtually nothing about you.”

“And I’m trying to keep it that way,” he grunted, pushing her away. The two fought until finally they settled with Stephanie leaning on his shoulder. “How’d you even know their name?”

“Tim,” she answered. You raised your eyebrow in question. “He gets bored when he has nothing to do. And he decided to snoop around Jason’s life.”

“Well I’ll try not to be offended,” you said, though you furrowed your brows in concern. “Should I be worried?”

“I don’t think so,” Stephanie hummed, “not unless you have something to hide.”

“Do you have something to hide?” Jason pressed, a teasing smile dancing on his lips. You puffed out your cheeks and looked away.

“Oooh you do,” Stephanie sang, “tell us before we find out from Tim.”

“Tim needs to mind his own fucking business,” you muttered to yourself, causing Jason to laugh. “And no, I have nothing to hide. Lived a pretty boring life.”

“Don’t know, you tried killing your sister once,” Jason mused. 

“I didn’t try on purpose! I pushed her off the deck into the lake,” you corrected, “and my dad got to her before anything could happen. Man, he was pissed. I feared for my life that day. I’ve never known fear until I saw the look he gave me.” You shuddered at the memory.

“How old were you?” Stephanie asked, worry laced in her words. You shrugged, staring at the corner of your phone, avoiding their gaze.

“Ten I think? Could be younger, I don’t know. Thought it would be funny, and it was until it wasn’t.”

“Did he hurt you?” Jason asked, you shook your head and moved your gaze to him.

“No. But the way he looked, he wanted to. If we were alone he probably would have. I booked it into the car and hid there until we went home. Then I hid in my room for the rest of the day.”

“Yikes. Why was he so mad? Bruce wouldn’t have been if we did something like that.”

“That’s because we knew how to take care of ourselves and we knew how to swim,” Jason pointed out.

“And he probably doesn’t have favourites,” you chimed in. You hummed in thought, ignoring the worried looks the two siblings were giving you. “But he doesn’t strike me as picking a favourite among his kids, unless he’s really good at hiding it. But no parent is that good at hiding that.”

“Have experience, do you?” Jason asked, you only hummed not wanting to elaborate. You aren’t sure how, but what was supposed to be a lighthearted conversation turned sour. You scrunched up your nose as a thought occurred to you. If it was this easy to talk to both Jason and Stephanie, you were afraid how the rest of his family would be. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“What you guys are having for breakfast,” you said instead of you voicing your thoughts.

“Ooh yes. I did come here for breakfast,” Stephanie said, as if she had forgotten the reason for being here. She turned to him and poked his cheek. “Make me pancakes with bacon and ham and eggs and everything.”

“How can you eat so much and not gain anything,” Jason grumbled as he moved off the couch and towards the kitchen. Stephanie shifted slightly so she was more centered to the camera.

“I work out,” she simply said with a shrug. Jason grumbled something, and since he was too far away you couldn’t hear what he said. “So, how’d you meet Jason anyways? Tim won’t say and Jason doesn’t want to talk about you when asked.”

“That’s because you pester me so much that I don’t want to talk about them,” Jason called, “and you don’t have to answer anything you want too, Y/N. Don’t let Stephanie bully you into answering questions.”

“It’s okay, Jason, I don’t mind. I know what it’s like to have siblings,” you said with a smile. “We met online. Started talking a few weeks back and haven’t stopped since.”

“Ah, you guys are still new,” Stephanie mused, “that means you can still back out before you guys get too serious.” You laughed at the same time Jason yelled hey! “Kidding, I’m kidding. I haven’t seen Jason happy in awhile. Please stick around, he’s more bearable when he’s happy.”

You watched as Jason stalked towards her, and plucked the phone from her. “If all you came here for was to make fun of me, you can go home without your food.”

“Noooo, Jason I’m sorry,” you heard Stephanie whine. And you couldn't be sure, but you saw Stephanie grovel a little bit on the floor. Although Stephanie couldn’t see Jason’s expression, you could and smiled at the little smile he shot you.

“Then go take a shower, you stink,” he said, and she was quick to race to the bathroom. “Your clothes are still here from last time!” he called and set the phone down so watch him as he prepared breakfast. “Sorry about her. I completely forgot she was coming over today.”

“No worries,” you dismissed, watching in awe as Jason cut up some vegetables with ease. “She was fun to talk to.”

“Prefer her over me, huh?”

“Nope. I like you more,” you said. “Where’d you learn how to cook?”

“Alfred taught me when I was young, and I kept going afterwards. Found it helped me when things got too stressed,” he explained. “Stress cooking is a lot healthier than other ways to deal.”

“I get that,” you mused, “I stress clean.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” he grunted. He stopped for a moment and looked towards you; eyes narrowed. “Did you have breakfast this morning?” You bit the top of your lip and avoided looking at him. “Y/N,” Jason said in warning.

“It was too early to eat!” you cracked, “I had a coffee and that was it.” Jason shook his head, going back to his food.

“I hope you eat something soon.”

“I packed some snacks. But they’re nothing compared to what you’re making for breakfast.”

 “Well next time actually eat something or else I’ll just have to come over and cook for you.”

“That a threat?”

“No, more like a promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said with a smile. 

“Stop flirting and cook me my food!” Stephanie yelled after the quickest shower you have ever seen someone take. 

“So fucking demanding,” Jason grunted as you laughed.

“I should let you go so you can focus on the food instead of getting distracted,” you mused.

“But you’re the only kind of distraction I’d like,” he said, and you heard Stephanie gag. Laughing, you shook your head, trying to keep from blushing. “Okay maybe you’re right. Or otherwise, I’m going to throw Steph out the window.”

“Ha! I would like to see you try!”

Jason rolled his eyes and flicked them towards you. “Let me know when you’re there?”

“I can do that.”

---

Y/N (11:30 am) Ugh, I hate train rides

Jason Could have flown

Y/N Yeah but train tickets are cheaper

Jason True Made it in one piece?

Y/N Yup Now I’m making my way to the hospital

Jason Someone picking you up?

Y/n Nah, I’m taking the bus Need the extra time before I get there

Jason I get that 

Y/n How was breakfast?

Jason Good Though it would be better if it was you

Y/n Stoooooooopppppppp

Jason Never I’m sorry about Steph, we can be a handful sometimes

Y/n No worries, I like her Is the rest of your family that energetic?

Jason Some yeah, the rest are just tamed

Y/n Sounds fun

Jason Oh yeah, the best

Y/n I can hear the sincerity from here 

Jason Almost to the hospital?

Y/n Yeah I gotta go

Jason Tell me how it goes

Y/N (2:40 pm) I shouldn’t have come Why did I say yes?

Jason Because you were sleep deprived and you can’t say no to your sister Also because your dads in the hospital 

Y/n Right He’s fine by they way, now he’s just recovering Doctors say they did what they could and he’ll be out of here in a couple of days

Jason Figured out what the surgery was about?

Y/N Nope and at this point I’m too afraid to ask

Jason Wow Why do you have regrets?

Y/n I don’t know how or why But somehow my sister figured out I was seeing someone Or at least talking to someone and kept pestering me until I told them I’ve been bamboozled 

Jason Guess I’m not your dirty little secret anymore huh

Y/n Guess it wasn’t meant to be Oh well can’t be helped

Jason So now that your dads fine, you coming home?

Y/n No Somehow I have been convinced to stay the night and take the morning train in the morning Which sucks, I already bought my ticket for tonight 

Jason That’s rough buddy

Y/n Can’t be helped I guess Now I get to play 20 questions 

Jason But at least you get to spend time with your family

Y/n True

Jason you know, if you want I can drive up there and take the train with you

Y/N That is very sweet of you and very tempting But you have work and I don’t want to inconvenience you

Jason You’re not an inconvenience If anything, you’d be doing me a favour I have the day off tomorrow and I’ve been meaning to do something I’m not very good at doing nothing

Y/N What about your bike?

Jason When I said drive, I meant the loosely I’d take the train or fly Or I can drive us back I have a car too, you know

Y/N Where would you stay?

Jason I have a friend living there that I’ve been meaning to visit Plus we can go for breakfast tomorrow before making the trip back

Y/N Very tempting But ultimately I’m not going to tell you what to do It’d be your choice

Jason See you in the morning then

[pintsizemama]

Christmas Blues

Day 12

Summary: Maggie is feeling depressed as the holiday looms.

Pairings: Maxwell Lord x You, Maxwell Lord x Named Reader (Maggie Stark)

Fandom: Marvel & DC

Rating: Mature

Warnings: language, depression, heartbreak, talk of parental death

Word Count: 1,121

A/N: This takes place after Maggie’s breakup with Bucky but before she gets with Maxwell.

Little Stark Masterlist

Day 11 Day 13 Christmas Masterlist Main Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

“What’s gotten into you?” Nat asked you. You were sitting at the communal dining table nursing yet another cup of coffee.

“What?” You asked groggily. You had barely slept this week. The nightmares were ramping up, and you didn’t have the energy to deal with the panic attacks that accompanied them. So you stayed up and worked in the lab all hours of the day and night.

“You’re much moodier than normal,” Nat said. Your brow furrowed in confusion. You couldn’t recall acting moody with anyone recently.

“Not moody,” Wanda cut in. “She’s not moody.” She chewed her lip as she thought it over. “Blue. You’ve been blue lately.” Nat snapped her fingers.

“Yes!” She agreed. “You’re definitely down, girl. What’s going on?”

“I’m just tired,” you answered simply.

“No,” Nat disagreed. “You’re always tired. This is different. You’re depressed.”

“Probably,” you shrugged. Honestly, you didn’t have the strength to care what you were feeling at the moment.

“Probably?” Nat questioned.

“Of course she’s fucking depressed,” Wanda said in exasperation. “After the shit year she’s had, who wouldn’t be depressed?”

“Thanks, Wanda,” you said dispassionately.

“Christmas always kinda sucks anyway,” you told them. They looked confused. “My parents died right before Christmas.” Their eyes widened as they remembered.

“And they were killed by the asshole who broke your heart a few months ago,” Nat mumbled.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. You didn’t blame Bucky for what happened to your parents. You never did. That had been a huge issue when Tony found out you were dating Bucky. “Merry fucking Christmas.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Wanda asked, her eyes full of worry.

“No,” you replied. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. Really.” They looked like they did not believe you, and you sighed heavily. “What time are you guys heading out?” Nat looked at her watch.

“Shit, we gotta leave,” she said. All of the available Avengers were leaving today for a reconnaissance mission. They’d be gone a couple weeks…which meant you were alone for Christmas this year.

“Good luck,” you told your best friends. Wanda looked at you with deep sadness in her eyes.

“I hate that we’re leaving you here…especially with how you’re feeling, and it’s Christmas,” she said.

“I’ll be fine,” you half-heartedly assured her. “I have plenty of work in the lab to keep me busy. I need to get the prototype completed for Lord Industries, so I can get that asshole off my back.” You grimaced as your thoughts turned to Maxwell Lord—the bane of your existence.

“Don’t work too hard, Maggie,” Nat scolded gently.

“And you guys stay safe,” you returned. After they left you dumped the remainder of your now cold coffee. You debated whether or not to go to the hangar to see them all off. You wanted to, but the thought of seeing Bucky right now was too much. It had been months since he broke things off, and you had started doing better. You had done an amazing job of shoving all those feelings down, but the last couple weeks had been really hard. It was like the pain was brand new and once again at the surface. You decided you were going to see them off because Tony would be upset if he didn’t get to hug you before they left.

You checked the time and hurried to the hangar. They were leaving soon, and you didn’t want to miss them. Once you reached the hangar you immediately saw them all suited up and getting ready to go. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw Bucky. He always looked so sexy in his gear. You moved forward to say goodbye to your brother when you noticed a very unwelcome figure standing next to Tony. Maxwell Lord.

“Mags!” Tony shouted in joy. “I thought you were gonna let me leave without a goodbye!”

“Never,” you said with a strained smile.

“Miss Stark, always a pleasure,” Maxwell said with a polite smile.

“Lord,” you acknowledged him curtly.

“You gonna be ok here by yourself for Christmas?” Tony asked.

“Yep,” you said.

“I worry about you, kid.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him.

“Alone for Christmas?” Maxwell questioned. “We can’t have that. No one should be alone for Christmas. You’ll come to my place for the holiday.”

“I’m good,” you said quickly. The last place you wanted to be was anywhere near Maxwell Lord.

“I insist,” he continued. “I’ll send my helicopter to pick you up Christmas Eve.”

“That’s really not necess—”

“—Great!” Tony cut in. “Thanks for looking out for my sister, Max. I hate leaving her here. Christmas has always been a hard time of the year for us. You know, thanks to Tin Man over there murdering our parents.” Bucky’s pain filled eyes found yours. You quickly looked away. “Anyway, I’m glad my favorite girl will have someone to keep her company while we’re gone.” He paused and looked Max up and down. “Do me a favor, Lord, and keep your hands—and dick—away from my little sister.”

“Jesus, Tony,” you groaned.

“I’m just saying,” Tony said, “you’re smart, funny, gorgeous, and Max has quite a reputation with the ladies. Oh, and don’t think I haven’t noticed him checking you out.”

“Yeah, you got nothing to worry about on that front,” you scoffed. “I’m not sleeping with Maxwell Lord. Ever.”

“Good,” Tony said with a grin. “Now give me a hug.” You stepped into his embrace and closed your eyes as you squeezed him tight. You sunk into the warmth and feeling of home. He placed a kiss on the top of your head before stepping back.

“Merry Christmas,” he said. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Is there anything you wouldn’t do?” You asked.

“Square dancing,” Tony replied immediately. You could not help but smile.

“Come back safe,” you practically demanded.

“Promise,” Tony replied. “Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too.” You watched as they filed into the plane. Bucky paused just before boarding to meet your eyes once more. Your memories flashed to the goodbyes you used to share before missions. Desperate hugs and fevered kisses before take off and long sweaty passionate nights before. You shook the memories away as he smiled sadly and boarded.

The plane pulled out of the hangar and onto the runway. You felt Maxwell walk up next to you.

“Oh, don’t forget to pack a bag,” he said.

“What?”

“For Christmas Eve,” he replied. “You’ll stay the night at my penthouse so you’re not alone Christmas morning.”

“Like hell I will,” you scoffed.

“We’ll see,” Max said with a smile. You shook your head, but deep down you knew he’d get his way. Maxwell Lord always did.

Day 13

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[dragonmasterhiccup]

(I think this one's kinda long too, again 🥸)

Freya hesitated to respond, yet another feeling arising in her that was unfamiliar. His words indicated that he would now be leaving, and she should've been glad about that, but she found herself actually wanting to talk more to him. She shook it off, assuming it was because of her tiredness again, as well as the sudden opportunity she had to rant about everything she'd been keeping in for so long. "Uh, yeah, it's kind of weird how they mimic cats in a way.."

She tapped her arm, standing up too quickly as she nearly stumbled, managing to catch herself before it was too late. "You can.. you can come by tomorrow if you're not busy. Cause, uh, it's only Ayla that wants you over here anyways.. and I'm sure you gotta work with Gobber and everything.." Freya mentally scolded herself for beginning to ramble yet again, choosing to look up at Blaze instead.

She lightly kicked the small stick Hiccup had thrown on the ground, debating whether or not to voice her thoughts before she spoke, "Again, thank you. I still could've done all of that stuff you did for Ayla. But, thanks." Not knowing what to say, for once, she gently rocked back and forth on her feet, pressing her lips into a thin line as she slowly glanced back at him.

Why did he persist on knowing things she wouldn't have normally shared? Why was he treating her with the respect she really didn't deserve? Why didn't he just give up and leave her alone? What's his problem? Carefully thinking more, Freya restated the question in her head: 'What's my problem?'

Not realizing she was staring the whole time, and getting caught in the process, she frantically stepped closer to the door, fumbling over the right words, "Sorry, sorry, sorry. I was just, uh, thinking about something -- I got lost in thought, yeah."

"Get home already, Stoick's probably wondering where you are!" She gestured her hands at him for to leave, trying to recover from.. whatever it was that was making her behave differently. "Night!" She quickly stepped inside, shutting the door as she recovered her breath. She stood there for a moment, calming herself down.

Freya rubbed her forehead, questioning herself for the events that took place today. "I should be fine tomorrow.. I just need to.. sleep." She muttered, dragging her feet upstairs to her room, first checking on Ayla before throwing herself on her bed, shutting her eyes as she allowed herself to finally get some sleep in.

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

Getting up was a chore. If it weren't for Ayla's repetitive coughs, Freya would've most likely slept in. She forced herself out of bed, rubbing her eyes open as she groggily opened her little sister's door, feeling remorse for her as she rubbed her nose. After cleaning herself up, she almost immediately asked for the one person she tried not to think about.

"Ayla, y'know he's probably busy in the forge! He's in there nearly everyday! I mean, don't you remember being there with him?" Her sister pouted, threatening to cry - something Freya most certainly did not want. Groaning, she begrudgingly went out of her room, getting herself presentable as she muttered endless complaints to herself.

Fully ready, she whistled for Blaze, who had been playing with some leaves outside. Upon hearing her, he gleefully ran towards her, making sure to barely stop in front of her so she wouldn't fall. He leaned his head against her torso as she smiled, gently petting him as she yawned. "C'mon, buddy, we gotta go back to the forge.." Tapping on the crown of his head, she mounted the sand wraith, the last bits of drowsiness melting away as Blaze jumped in the air, choosing to glide over to their destination this time.

As soon as they landed, Blaze set out for Toothless, sniffing the air with a curious gaze, trying to find the Night Fury. Freya rolled her eyes at his actions, leisurely getting off her dragon, stretching her arms when her boots touched the ground. She tried to remain hidden, wanting another excuse to tell Ayla that she didn't find Hiccup anywhere, so she chose to remain standing outside of the forge behind Blaze, making herself appear as casual as she could without being noticed.

Nodding, he said, "Right. Only Ayla...I'll uh, I'll come by in the afternoon, then..."

He shrugged, waving a hand. "Again, I knew you could've, but it's probably better that you were here, in case she needed you."

Expecting her to respond, he waited, but she just...stared at him. She stared at him with an almost pensive expression, causing him to feel...well, uncomfortable.

"Uh...what, what is it? Did I say something wrong?"

That seemed to do it, snapping her out of... whatever it was.

He could only watch as she stumbled inside, only managing to say "Goodnight!" before she slammed the door.

Toothless joined him, and he and the dragon exchanged a look. "That was...weird. Come on, bud. Let's go home."

Stoick was indeed waiting up, asking Hiccup where he'd been the moment he returned home.

Hiccup muttered something about helping a friend, that he was tired, and going straight to bed, hurrying up the stairs before his father could ask any more questions.

As soon as his prosthetic was off, he fell asleep.

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

Hiccup was up at sunrise, he and Toothless sneaking out of the house for a morning flight before Stoick got up for the day.

His mind replayed the events of the past few days.

Freya had been... actually nice to Hiccup. He almost couldn't believe it.

But it happened.

And...it was nice.

By the time he got to the forge, Gobber was getting after Grump to light the fire.

The older Viking turned around, hearing Hiccup enter. "Oi! Ain't it yer day off? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just uh, I wanted to help out a little extra, since I left early yesterday." He started getting his tools, putting his leather apron on.

Gobber waved a hand. "Ahh, who cares? You always overwork yourself. Take the day, go be with the girl."

"Girl?!"

"Aye, the one you ran off with yesterday. The angry one."

"Oh...Freya."

"Aye. That's the one."

"You know, Gobber, I don't think she wants me around all that much..."

"That's a shame. I thought you two had something going there."

Hiccup nearly dropped his hammer. "Wh-what? No, no, there's uh, there's nothing going on..."

"Then why is she waiting outside, hm?" Gobber gestured to where Freya was outside, and said, "Take the apron off and put your tools away. It's your day off, I can manage things here just fine."

Hesitantly, he did as he was told, make his way outside.

"Hey, Freya. How's Ayla?"

[bec-a-b00]

I just need to vent for a minute

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with Victoria’s boobs

Description | Victoria needs help taping her boobs for an upcoming performance. You get more than you bargained for.

Content | fluff

Pairing | Victoria x gn!Reader

Word Count | 2420

Some situations in life simply could not be dealt with without a strong cup of coffee. Heading out to an exam, waking up to a text from that ex who still grinds your gears, missing your train, and being late for work ... You, however, thought you were doing fine today, mood high and excited for the day ahead. You had slept in and left the hotel at a reasonable time. You’d do what you loved - make-up - and then watch the band play a kickass show. No additional kick needed to pump you up or help you deal with the hours ahead. You changed your mind the second you opened the dressing room door and came face to face with Victoria's tits. Actually - scratch that - you would need a drink to deal with this.

"Y/n! Finally! I need you, come here." While Victoria's face brightened up considerably as her eyes met yours, a smile spreading on her gorgeous lips, you could feel your cheeks heating up. She didn't seem to notice or mind, instead grabbing your hand and dragging you further into the room. Your bag slid off your shoulder, unceremoniously hitting the ground and staying there, forgotten and in the way. "If Damiano keeps ripping off the tape one more time to readjust, he's going to take my nipple off."

"Hey!" He objected. "I'm just trying to improve your boobs, lady!"

"You can't improve perfection, Damiano."

The bickering gave you a moment to evaluate the scene before you. The dressing room was a mess, clothes everywhere and a stylist bustling around, trying to keep the damage to a minimum. Ethan was currently admiring his reflection in the mirror, hands running through his hair, while Thomas kept rummaging around the chaos. And right before your eyes, Victoria, in satin trousers but topless, with Damiano still trying to fix the cross he had put across her left nipple, as Vic kept slapping his hand away.

"Honestly, babe, I need you," she pleaded as your eyes managed to remove themselves from her bare chest and met hers instead. "I can't do it myself because when I try to do it in the mirror it looks weird when I put my arms down. And Damiano just about managed one cross that doesn't look wonky as hell after about 43 attempts."

"I did not need 43 attempts! I was just trying to -"

"Stop it!" Vic slapped his hand away once more, harshly enough for the sound to echo. "Go gel your hair or something, I've got Y/n now."

"I'm your make-up artist, not -" You didn't quite know how to finish your sentence. You weren't what? Victoria's personal boob inspector? Professional nipple-taper?

"Exactly, which means you've got an eye for aesthetic, so please put this tape on me."

You couldn't refuse Vic either way. Not when she was staring at you with those impossibly blue eyes, silently begging for your help. With a sigh, you grabbed the tape out of her hand, slowly unrolling a bit. You had only known her for a little while, but well enough to be aware that she wouldn't back down. Vic was already reaching for a pair of scissors, but you were quicker, tearing the piece of tape off with your teeth.

"Sexy, but scary," Victoria concluded. "But mainly sexy."

You didn't have the mental capacity to deal with what she had just said. Actually, you didn't have the capacity to deal with what you were about to do, but that was a pill you'd simply have to swallow. You hoped your shaky fingers weren't giving you away, as you crouched to eye-level with Vic's boob.

You had never much thought about the feminine beauty of a naked woman's chest before, but your current angle was making you question all your past convictions.

Maybe you were into girls after all.

Maybe you were just into Victoria. It was a thought that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now.

As your fingers lightly touched her skin, careful to get the placement just right, she flinched. You looked up, gazes meeting, and for a second there was something in her eyes you couldn't quite pinpoint, but it was gone before you had a chance to reflect on it. Instead, she giggled, "It's way too hot for your hands to be this cold."

Way too hot indeed.

You tried to make quick work of the task ahead and not to stare at her breasts too intently. Not to touch her soft skin too obviously. Not to let your beating heart get the better of you.

"I knew you'd get it perfectly!" Victoria exclaimed, turning towards the mirror and examining her now partly covered boobs. "You just got that kind of eye, Y/n. Thank you so much."

She had thrown her arms around you before you could react. It shouldn't have come as much of a surprise, Vic always being a rather touchy person by nature, but this time she was half-naked, her chest pressed against your shirt. Your arms carefully wrapped around her back, briefly letting yourself enjoy the feeling of silk-like skin under your fingertips, then quickly letting go and taking a step back. Your heart had gone from beating to straight-up racing. You were in so much trouble.

"I'll just put on the rest of my outfit and then you can do my make-up, yeah?" Her eyes shone at you in gradients you hadn't seen before. All you could do was nod dumbly, knowing that nothing was ever going to be the same again.

***

You hadn't meant to go out drinking with the band, you really really hadn't, yet here you were, sitting in a dark corner of some trendy bar in the middle of Berlin, trying to duck out of every video they filmed for Instagram and sipping on your drink. The mood was euphoric and everyone kept singing along to the songs playing in the background, but you kept to yourself. Your mind was still spinning with images of Victoria, memories of her skin on yours, and the fact that she was standing in front of you right now didn’t help. She was beauty personified.

“Y/n! Dance with me!” Victoria pulled you out of my thoughts as she pulled you up into a standing position.

“Vic, no one is dancing in this bar.”

“So?”

She had never been much impressed with what other people were doing. You quickly downed the rest of your drink, handing the glass to Damiano, who sent you a conspicuous wink. Whatever that was supposed to mean. You were still standing a little awkwardly when Victoria took your hand and twirled you around, a heavy slap to the bum hitting you while your back was towards her.

“Come on, Y/n, let loose!”

The shock of her actions only lasted a split second, before you broke out into giggles and let her pull you further into her. Her arms wrapped around your neck, trying to move you to a beat that was much too fast to be this close and entangled. You didn’t mind. Hell, you decided, you would never mind anything she did to you ever again. You didn’t even take notice of Damiano, Ethan, and Thomas dancing along around you, too focused on the way Vic was holding you and pressing you against herself. You couldn’t tell anymore if the elation you were feeling was because of the drink you’ve had or because she was looking at you the way she was. In the heat of the moment, you pushed a strand of her from her face, fingers lightly trailing along her cheek. Her mouth was on yours in an instant, pressing a bold kiss against your lips, but it was over before it started and suddenly her body wasn’t pushed up against yours anymore and you felt lost and cold. Victoria was now slinging her arms around Thomas’ neck instead, leaving a similar kiss on him, before giving Ethan and Damiano the same treatment.

Your heart couldn’t decide if it wanted to keep beating or start breaking.

***

The next days were pure torture. It didn’t help that Victoria had developed a newfound love for going bra-less - and an appreciation for you taping her up. Her behaviour wasn’t much better. You bent over to pick something up? Slap on the butt. She walked by you? No way she wasn’t going to brush past you in some way. Sitting on the couch? She was cuddled up to you in a heartbeat, face mushed into your neck, her breath softly tickling your skin.

Pure torture.

It all came crashing down the night Victoria decided to shake up the hotel room arrangement. She would usually room with Damiano, while you shared with other members of the team that worked behind the scenes. Until you were all gathered in the lobby of your hotel for the night and she loudly announced she was sick of listening to Damiano snore every night - “What the hell, I’ve never snored in my life?!” - and instead was going to sleep with you. Sleep with you. You didn’t miss the looks and snickers of the others as she phrased it exactly like that.

You didn’t have a choice, really. You simply weren’t the type of person to protest - and Vic knew. So you followed her up in the elevator, down the corridor, and into the room like a lovesick puppy, internally debating whether you were dreading this or looking forward to it. As soon as you had both dropped your luggage, she disappeared into the bathroom without another word. You didn’t miss the fact that she did not even attempt to close the door.

Two single beds. You breathed a sigh of relief. No awkward there-was-only-one-bed situation. Or maybe you felt a bit of disappointment. Maybe- No. This needed to stop. You were going crazy. You were supposed to do a job on this promo tour, be professional, maybe make friends with the band if you were lucky, but instead, you were falling deeper and deeper and it all ended with the fact that you had never felt this way about anyone else. It pained you to think that Victoria wasn’t feeling the same. And she definitely wasn’t - you were sure of that. She was a flirty person, she liked to touch and kiss those around her, but none of it went deeper than that. And you were going to have to accept it for what it was.

You were still in the middle of convincing yourself of not feeling anything more than friendship for Victoria when she emerged from the bathroom. Wearing nothing but a pair of panties. It was in that moment you knew you would never get over her.

“VIc, you need to stop doing this.”

Her face fell immediately, going from overly cheeky - which seemed to be her default expression these days - to genuinely concerned. Concerned, and confused. She was by your side in an instant, holding you by your upper arms, seemingly searching your face for answers.

“Do what?”

The direct question was filled with a softness that almost brought tears to your eyes. For a second you contemplated taking it back, changing the topic, and ignoring how emotionally draining the past days had been, but one look into her eyes told you that you needed to be honest with her. Now or never.

“You need to stop touching me. You need to stop riling me up at every opportunity, you need to stop teasing me and brushing up against me because-” The words seemed trapped in your throat. Victoria had moved away, immediately adhering to your request to stop touching you and you hated it. You wanted her hands back on you, you wanted all of her on you. One more deep breath. “Because I cannot stop thinking about kissing you. And I’m not talking about a little friendly peck. I’m talking about kissing the ever-loving shit out of you now and forever.”

It happened so fast. Victoria was on you before you had even finished your last words, lips pressed to yours in a heated and hurried manner, arms wrapping around you to press her body against yours. You reacted as if on autopilot, as if your body knew what to do simply because it had been waiting for it. Your hands tangled themselves in her hair as you responded eagerly to her kiss, before running them down her cheeks and to her neck.

This was nothing like the time she kissed you in the bar in Berlin. That time didn’t even come close to what was happening now. If your heart had been beating before, it was pounding out of your chest now. You thought that for as long as she promised to put her mouth on yours anytime you asked, you would be invincible.

The kiss ended rather slowly. A few pecks and staying close, breath fanning on each other’s faces, eyes still shut for a while until you two managed to separate. Victoria’s smirk was back, tenfold and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Imagined anything like that?”

“You know I did,” you admitted, feeling slightly shy all of a sudden.

“Honestly, though,” Vic said, brushing your hair from your face in the most tender motion. “I’m sorry I put you in a weird position. I think my way of flirting just didn’t work on you.”

“Oh, it worked alright,” you laughed. “I just wasn’t sure you meant it that way. Especially when you kissed me that night and then proceeded to kiss everyone.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t clever. I think I was just scared because you didn’t react so I tried to play it off.”

Victoria pushed another kiss onto your lips, sweet and short and full of reassurance, then promptly hugging you with a force that sent both of you tumbling onto one of the beds. Laughing with all your heart, you pushed her off you but made sure she never strayed too far. You couldn’t help but be amused at the state you were both in, faces heated up and giggly, you fully clothed while Victoria was still lounging in nothing but a pair of black panties.

“For God’s sake, Victoria put some clothes on,” you mocked her, even though you both knew there was no reason for you to mind it anymore.

“You know, I think it’s quite fitting,” she contemplated instead. “It started and ended with my boobs out.”

[teiasviago]

Day 1: Head Wound

Season 7 | Dead Dove: Do Not Eat | AO3 | @today-in-fic

Scully keeps saying that he won’t remember the pain once it’s gone but it’s not gone yet. She hasn’t hazarded a guess as to when it will go away, but when he asked, she told him that she didn’t know of any procedure like this having been performed before, so how would she have any idea? She holds him in his bed with the lights off and strokes his head as the pain meds dull the frightening ache into a bearable throb. He hasn’t slept soundly for two weeks.

Every time Scully examines his bandage, she makes him put one of her barely-used silk sleeping masks on so she can turn the lights on; he can’t see her, but he knows that the news isn’t good (nor bad, which is of some comfort, he supposes) because he can hear her hum discontentedly. She cried with him once, in the first few days, before somehow managing to obtain a stronger medication and administer it with steady hands.

She feeds him water with protein powder mixed in and soup broths because chewing hurts. He can’t remember the last time she went to her apartment. They shower together now, him with one of her shower caps over his head and candles lit. She says that she’ll give his hair a deep clean once he’s healed.

Scully Scully Scully Scully Scully. He drowns out the bad with Scully. She hums nameless songs to him until he falls asleep and whispers stories to him of her childhood to pass the time. It’s like learning all the things about her that he would’ve learned if they were normal people who went on sequential dates. But they’re not normal people. She’s been abducted and experimented on and he’s recovering from a lobotomy.

“Not a lobotomy, Mulder,” she whispers.

“I think they severed some connections in my brain, alright,” he whispers back, tracking the highlight in her eyes.

“They stole a part of your brain.” He imagines that she’s pouting, his ever-serious Scully.

“They do that sometimes—steal. I hope it was a small part.”

She sighs and snakes her hand over to his, locking their hands together. “It’ll get better, Mulder.”

“How do you know?” He hasn’t had a brain scan since the day she saved him. He could be dying for all they know.

“It has to. I believe in that.”

—

The pain does, eventually, go away. As far as Scully knows. It’s not a complete lie, it’s just...an omission. He gets headaches more frequently now, which she’s sometimes privy to. She asks him about it the fourth time he takes an Advil for a headache while on a case.

“Residual effect of the not-lobotomy?” he suggests with a shrug. “I’ve been seeing a doctor and he said everything’s in ship-shape. He’s been monitoring my brain to be safe.”

And now he’s actually lied to her. Scully cards her fingers through his hair, unaware of the desecration going on inside his brain. Is this how she felt while she had cancer? He longs to ask her how she coped with the knowledge of death’s grip slowly tightening around her but can’t bear to think of how it would break her to know she’ll have to go on without him.

Maybe he should marry her so at least they’ll have some truly happy memories before the fall. But it’s debatable whether he’ll live long enough to have a wedding. She deserves a wedding. His doctor says he doesn’t have much more than six months to live. The Mulder family’s dying off like flies now, aren’t they? He rethinks his decision not to tell Scully of his condition in light of how his mother’s suicide hit but it just makes him cry more.

Scully Scully Scully Scully Scully. He kisses her every chance he gets and chalks it up to the honeymoon phase so she doesn’t get suspicious. No, Scully is not allowed to get hurt; she’s not allowed to disappear or die or be sad when he can make her happy. Scully Scully Scully Scully Scully. Don’t you understand? You can’t run off like that. You can’t take risks like that. But she doesn’t understand because he can’t tell her why.

He holds her every night and makes it his new life’s mission to bring her pleasure as much as possible. His heart sings Scully Scully Scully day in and day out. He’s taking stronger pain meds prescribed by his doctor and it’s making him clingy. Scullay... He’s losing it. Scully with a baby. Scully getting married. Scully being pregnant. Scully learning her baby’s gender. He hopes she gets all of that somehow, even though he won’t be there.

She has so much more to live for. But him? He has a matter of weeks to live. He can go in her place. They can’t take her again. If her own abduction is anything to go by, he won’t be returning alive. Either way, he dies by their hand. And maybe one of them will get the answers they’ve been looking for all this time.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Be Here | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies! You ever just take a year to write a part two? Well, thanks to @hellotvshowtrash 's writing challenge I have finally written the second part to Come Back. I straight up just sat down and wrote this in less then two hours. The muses have blessed me and said Elijah Mikaelson reunion fic or nothing. I am not stupid-- I will not deny them. Shoutout to Lottie (@imdreamingwiththestars) for making me miss these boys <3

Description: Elijah was dead and now he's not, stand-alone sequel to Come Back

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, Mainly Elijah

Prompt: "What was it like to die?"

Warnings: rushed writing, mentions of depression

Word count: 2k

Tags: Soft Angst and then Fluff

It’s been two years— well, almost two years. One year, eight months, and seventeen days. But who’s counting, right? Certainly not you. Certainly you wouldn’t be stupid enough to honestly believe that he’s coming back. Even after the promises. His promises and their promises— it doesn’t matter. Both mean nothing. You don’t blame them but you would be naive to believe them.

Still, you keep count— just in case. There’s no harm in that, right? Two years— one year, eight months, and seventeen days— without Elijah Mikaelson. Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, your throat closing like it’s been only a few hours. Maybe there’s a little bit of harm.

You press your face harder into the sweater curled under your head. It doesn’t smell like him anymore— there’s no cinnamon left, none of his at least. None of the sugary vanilla that used to encase her like a NOLA bakery. Only traces of Kol’s nutty cinnamon blend— he must’ve snuck in here last night at some point. Both him and Klaus occasionally do. You don’t blame them for that either— you don’t have a monopoly on missing Elijah Mikaelson.

Slipping out of his sheets is harder than you would admit if either of the brothers were to ask you. It’s not like they’re warm or anything— they’re just as ice cold as the rest of the room— but they’re his and the thought of going the rest of the day without them just doesn’t appeal to you the way it should. Voices flit up the stairs but you don’t strain hard enough to make out the words. You could if you wanted to but there’s no point— you don’t care anymore. Not about trivial things— not about talking. You only do it when you have to these days.

The trek across the room to the door takes what feels like an hour. In reality you’re sure it’s only seconds but, well, this time you aren’t counting so who knows— maybe it did take you an hour. Sun is filtering past the curtains now, painting a stripe through the dim room and across the oak floor. An hour. You pause beside his dresser, debating going in to dig out a new hoodie. You haven’t taken a new one in about three months but your stash is running sparse. It’s not a hard decision, pushing past the dresser and leaving it untouched— you’ll need it more later.

In the hallway things feel different. You can’t put your finger on what it is exactly. There’s a slight shift in the atmosphere and a little more of a kick to the energy in the compound. It feels alive— like everything is humming. The hair on the back of your neck raises instinctively, the answer on your tongue but not quite forming. It’s probably nothing— you haven’t slept in two weeks. It’s probably exhaustion. You’re a vampire but you’re not impervious to sleep deprivation. Time marches on whether or not you acknowledge it— whether or not you reject it. You’ve learned that the hard way.

It’s why you keep padding towards your room, feet soft on the hardwood, trying desperately not to draw the attention of whoever’s in the kitchen. The electric charge in the air follows you to your bedroom, increasing ten-fold when you cross the threshold and halting your advance. You haven’t been in here in weeks but for some reason it feels like everything’s been disturbed. Not in a noticeable way— there’s still a thin layer of dust over everything— but something’s off. Your stomach rolls as you glance around at your things, the pressure building as your neck tingles. You could honestly just fucking scream.

Still, you push further, braving the sudden unknown of your room with a burst of stamina you haven’t felt in months. Breaching the doorway feels like being sucked into a new planet, one unrecognizable and dangerous. Thankfully you don’t need oxygen because you’re pretty sure there’s none in your room. Your chest is tight— heavy— and you make quick work of changing into a new pair of shorts and a Rolling Stones t-shirt that’s been hanging untouched in your closet for at least a year. You haven’t been afraid of it, per say, but you certainly weren’t ready to wear it. Today feels like the day though.

It isn’t until you go to sit on the bed, not bothering to even try to balance as you put your socks on, that you’re finally rewarded with a clue that you may not be as crazy as you feel. It’s warm— the bed is warm. Not the whole bed— because yes, you do reach out to check— only the part you happen to sit on. It’s warm like someone was just sitting here minutes ago and you spring up as quickly as you went down, closing your eyes and pulling in as much air from the room as possible. You’re getting to the bottom of this now. When the air reaches your nose some of the pieces begin to click together—

Cinnamon.

Only a faint trace of it but still your chest jumps— is it— no don’t be stupid it couldn’t be. You thump a hand against your chest to clear the feeling as you force your legs to carry you out the door. You realize too late that you only have one sock, your bare foot pressing against the cold wood of the staircase, but you’re too far and too determined to go back now. You’ve got to find Kol and you have a pretty good idea you know where he is.

Sugar wafts to your nose as you press towards the kitchen, mixed with a touch of citrus— Klaus must’ve picked up your favourite pastries. As you reach the door voices flit stronger to your ears. You can make out Klaus’ hushed tone but not his words, followed by a comment from Kol that you can’t decipher. Good, they’re both here.

The kitchen is by far the brightest room you’ve ventured into in months, the countertops gleaming so bright you have to squint, throwing a hand over your brows. When you blink, clearing the glare however, you notice something peculiar— no pastries. You could have sworn you just smelled them—

“Love, you’re awake.” There’s a whoosh of air followed by two hands on your face and the lingering scent of honey shampoo.

You smile weakly up at Klaus, shrugging. “Was never really asleep.”

Another pair of hands wrap around your stomach, pulling you into a nutmeg chest, lips finding your head. “That’s not healthy, darling. How long’s it been now?”

Shrugging again— this time at Kol— you let your eyes wander the kitchen, nose wrinkling at the heady sugar scent. “Two weeks, give or take.”

You can’t locate the source— but, then again, you can’t see past Klaus’s worried eyes. You watch as he tosses a look behind your head, presumably at Kol. When you roll your head back though you find that his brother’s brown eyes aren’t meeting his stare but are also tilted behind him. You chest jumps again, the air thickening, energy coursing through you— what the hell is going on?

You push away from the boys, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to the source of whatever’s got the compound disrupted this morning. Opening your mouth, you go to make a snarky remark— or to scream, you aren’t sure— but when you finally see it all that comes out is a soundless gush of air. All words are lost as your eyes drag over the back of a familiar brunette head, passing down a muscled back and over sweatpants you haven’t seen worn in years. One year, eight months, and seventeen days. It’s all you can do to poke your tongue out of your mouth, sweeping it over your dry mouth and tasting sugar.

There’s just no way.

You take a step backwards, back slamming into one of the brothers but unable to tear your eyes away from the figure long enough to see who. “What— what’s happening?”

Always the noble one, Elijah Mikaelson doesn’t keep you waiting, whirling on his feet, a box of pancake mix in his hands. “Couldn’t have waited ten more minutes, baby?”

You’re not alive but for a moment it feels like your heart stops as you drink in the man in front of you. Brown hair, brown eyes, stubble on his jaw the same as the day he died. Your vision clouds over, tears tugging at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to blink them away. You’re not risking clearing a vision this clear.

You take a tentative step forward, afraid that if you move too quickly the mirage might evaporate. “Elijah?”

“Hey baby.”

If your dead heart stopped upon seeing his silhouette then it restarts when he passes you the familiar, crooked smile that you fell in love with all those decades ago— the same one you’ve been longing for since the day he left you.

Fuck tiptoeing.

You’re across the room in record time, your hair flying behind you as you launch yourself into his arms, praying to whoever will listen that your body hits something solid. There’s a muted thud followed by his arms wrapping around you— his physical, cinnamon sugar scented arms. At his reciprocated touch you finally let yourself sob. You can’t remember the last time you actually let yourself cry but you are now and it’s finally out of relief.

Your hands attack his face, palms deranged and fingers haphazardly dragging across his neck and jaw and scalp. Your shoulders are shaking, tears hot against your face and pooling over your lips but you refuse to look away from his gaze. He looks just as wild as you feel, brown eyes ticking rapidly over your features. It’s all you can do to smash your mouth against his, crying through the kiss before laughing because he still tastes like your Elijah. Like cinnamon buns and sweetness.

“This can’t be real— you’re dead. I saw you die!” You sob against his lips.

He presses his mouth back just as hard, hands digging against your skin and clawing at his band t-shirt. You reciprocate by squeezing your thighs harder around his hips, pressing your body as close to his as you can get. It’s not enough but you feel like you can finally breathe again when you crush your arms around his shoulders.

“I know—” he finally murmurs into your mouth— “but I’m here. Right here.”

You pull away, hands still carding through his soft hair, pulling at the damp strands. “‘Lijah you were dead— I— I thought you weren’t coming—”

Your chest feels heavy again but he’s quick to move, cutting your destructive train of thought with his cinnamon and honey lips. You don’t mind— he could do anything right now and you would still cling to him like your life depends on it. Kissing him has been at the top of your list for two years now— you’re not going to refuse. One of his hands lowers, hooking around your thigh and tugging you higher up his body. You’re not the only one whose life depends on staying as connected as possible.

“It’s real— I’m real. I promised you, baby. I’m back— I promise I’m back.”

Just like that you’re back to giggling against his mouth, arms anchored behind his neck. Soon your head is falling back, the euphoria rolling through your body like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You would never wish for him— for any of them— to leave you again but this feeling makes every gruelling day worth it. He’s back. As if to prove it his lips find your neck, kissing over your skin feverishly.

After a few moments of soaking in the attention of the resurrected man you finally pull yourself together enough to attempt a true conversation like a respectable woman.

“What was it like to die?”

He chuckles against your skin, shaking his head, his lips never leaving you. “I’ll tell you later— there are a few matters we need to sort out first baby, starting with getting you out of that fucking t-shirt. It’s been too long.”

Who are you kidding— he’s right and you hum your agreement, lips searching for his, desperate once more—

“One year, eight months, and seventeen days too long.”

[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry #44 (part one)

Yuri

To borrow a phrase from Victor... Worst. Day. Ever.

This whole horrible chain of events started on Wednesday, two days ago, when one of our firm's clients decided to have a go at doing their own social media communications without consulting us. Needless to say, the results were problematic. They thought they were being clever and funny, but the entire swath of customers they'd offended with their casually racist attempt at humour hadn't thought so.

Following a veritable tsunami of negative feedback overnight, the client called my boss, Mr. Tanaka, in a panic on Thursday morning, demanding that he do something about it. Mr. Tanaka is still guiding me a little, but it’s technically my file, and it’s one of the more significant ones he’s given me to work on since my promotion back in the summer. Naturally, the proverbial stone always rolls downhill, so despite Mr. Tanaka taking the initial call, this problem also quickly became my problem.

After getting his ear practically chewed off by the client’s representative, Mr. Tanaka called me and filled me in on the situation. He told me that I needed to be on the next train to Kyoto so that we could meet with the client rep and do some damage control.

The next train to Kyoto was this morning — Friday — but I decided to drive instead. That may have been the only blessing in this disastrous day, but I'll get to that.

It's not a super common occurrence, thankfully, but one of our clients going rogue, doing something foolish and then forcing us to clean up after them does happen often enough not to be surprising. It's annoying, but dealing with it is part of my job, and I accept that I have to take the bad with the good.

Having to go to the city on short notice to deal with a client-made situation wouldn't normally be an issue. The problem with going to the city today was that today was also the first day of competition for the Yukimatsu Peak Cup, which is a qualifier for the All-Japan Snowboarding Championship. Victor was competing, of course, and I'd promised him I would come and watch him. Now, because of this sudden crisis at work, I couldn't be there.

He was not happy at all when he found out, and I couldn't blame him for being disappointed. I was disappointed, too. I'd wanted to see him compete as much as he wanted me to be there to cheer him on.

We didn't speak to each other much last night, each of us brooding in our own little bubble of resentment and self-pity. In hindsight, I realize we shouldn’t have gone to bed without at least trying to talk about it, but I guess neither of us was thinking clearly enough to suggest that. We each slept in our own rooms. I hate it when that happens, especially when it's because our communication has broken down or we're not getting along.

This morning, I woke up feeling awful. I was in enough pain that I seriously considered not going anywhere, even though I knew that wasn't really an option. Unless I was literally too ill to function, I would be at the office. This wouldn't be the first time I'd be relying on painkillers and willpower to survive a work day.

Victor stayed in his room when I got up, which was unusual for him. He didn't even come out to ask if I was okay, though I'm certain he must've heard me being horribly sick in the bathroom next door. Usually, he'd be right there, making a huge fuss over me and asking me a zillion times if there was anything he could do, but this morning, I was on my own. I fought the urge to cry as I stood under the hot spray of water in the shower, already despising everything about this day that had barely begun.

The medication was starting to dull my pain by the time I'd fixed my hair and finished getting dressed. I didn't feel better, exactly, but at least I believed I could manage.

I looked at my snowflake bracelet sitting on top of the dresser and actually debated with myself for a second whether or not I wanted to put it on. In the end, I wore it because despite feeling ignored and a little bit angry, it seemed petty just to leave it lying there conspicuously for Victor to see the next time he came into my room.

Downstairs, I found Victor in the kitchen. He must've left his room while I was in the shower. He was brewing a pot of tea, and he didn't turn around when I entered.

"Morning," he said. "I made breakfast. Are you going to eat?"

"Will it be a problem if I don't?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Do what you want."

I stared at him, even though his back was toward me. "You're not even going to try to convince me?"

"No," he said. "What'd be the point? If you don't feel like eating, you don't have to. I'm not going to harass you about it. I don't want to complicate your life any more than it is already."

I sighed. "Victor, you don't complicate my life. Why would you say something like that?"

"You said I'm unreasonable."

"When did I say—"

"Last night," he said. "Remember, when you were telling me about your stupid work meeting, and I said I wished you didn't have to go to the city today?"

"I said you were being unreasonable because you were acting like I'm doing this on purpose," I said. "I actually want to see you in the competition, you know. If it were up to me, I wouldn't be going to Kyoto today, but it's out of my hands."

"It is not," he said. "You do most of your other work meetings by video conference. I don't see why you couldn't do this one that way. At least you'd get to come and see me in my first event this morning."

"It's not up to me. Mr. Tanaka asked me to go to the office. What could I do? Besides, even if I could do it by video conference, the meeting with the client is this morning."

"You could've told your boss you had a prior commitment."

"Going to your snowboarding competition is not a prior commitment."

"Yes it is," he said. "You promised."

"Is that what this is about, me not being able to keep my promise?"

He finally turned around, and his face looked exactly like Yuki’s does when we tell her she can’t have cake before dinner. "What did you think it was about?"

"Victor, you're being immature," I said. "I know you're upset and I'm sorry, but my clients and my job are important."

"More important than me?"

"No. I didn't mean it like that. Of course you're important. You're the most important, but you need to understand that some things take priority sometimes. I really am sorry I can't be on the mountain with you today, and I'm not breaking my promise because I want to."

"Okay," he said. "I get it."

"Do you?" I asked, because his tone and his body language suggested that either he didn't get it, or he did but refused to accept it.

"Yeah, I do. I just don't like it. I think there could've been a way around it, like asking your client to be flexible or something. I mean, it's their own fault they're in the mess they're in. It'd serve them right to make them wait."

"You know that's not how it works."

"It's stupid," was his response.

I had to agree that it was. Victor wasn't wrong about it being the client's own fault either, but I'm not high enough up the chain to point that out to them and still have a job at the end of the day. I said, "I don't want to fight about this any more."

"We're not fighting," he said.

"What are we doing?"

"Having a conversation. Expressing our thoughts."

"Okay," I said. "If that's what we're doing, then my current thought is that I don't want to leave with you angry at me.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling, then? Because you seem angry to me.”

“I don’t know," he said. "Disappointed? Sad and annoyed and… kind of angry too, I guess. I know it’s not your fault and I'm not mad at you. I'm just upset by the situation. Like, I get that your job’s important, but this is important to me and I really wanted you to be there."

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what else to say. I'll be there to see you in your other events tomorrow and Sunday, and there'll be other competitions this season. I'll come to as many as I can. I pr—“

“Don’t,” he said. “I don’t want you to promise me anything else.” He looked away. “It’ll hurt too much when you end up not being able to do it.”

“Victor—“

“I have to get ready,” he said. He turned abruptly and headed for the stairs. “See you when you get back from Kyoto tonight.”

“What about your breakfast?”

"Don't worry about it."

“No going on the mountain without eating breakfast," I reminded him. "That’s the rule.”

“I know. I’ll eat before I leave.” he said, already disappearing up the steps and out of my sight. “Don’t miss your train. Take your meds, and remember to eat something today. Protein, Yuri. Not useless carbs.”

“Okay, no carbohydrates. And I’m taking the car.”

“Okay, cool," was the disembodied acknowledgement.

“I love you,” I called up the stairs. “Be safe.”

He didn't reply, and I silently questioned whether or not he'd even heard me. I tried to convince myself he hadn't, because I don't think he's ever missed an opportunity to tell me he loves me. In fact, he's usually the first to say it and I'm the one to respond.

Of course I knew he loved me without needing to hear him say it. One disagreement wasn't going to change everything we'd created together over the past five years. We don't argue as much as some couples do, but it's not as if we never fight or disagree about things, and we've always worked our way through it, both during the time our relationship was long distance and during the two years that we've lived together. If we didn't love each other, we wouldn't try to fix things when they go wrong. One or the other would've walked away long ago.

The drive into the city felt interminable. The moment I arrived at the office, I wanted to text Victor to let him know I got there, but I realized that he was probably on the mountain already and wouldn't have his phone. He doesn't usually take it with him to competitions, and if he did bring it for some reason, more than likely his coach would have it.

With that in mind, I slipped into the empty conference room where our meeting was going to take place, and texted Victor's coach instead. Her name is Sakura Fujimoto. I think I've mentioned her before, and I'm sure Victor has as well.

Victor and Sakura met one another only a few weeks after he came here. They met on the mountain, of course, and the two of them had bonded over their passion for snowboarding and the fact that they were both high-level competitors.

For the first little while, it seemed they just hung out casually and sometimes trained together, but the nature of their relationship changed last season when Sakura injured her back during a competition. Apparently, the doctors told her that it'd likely be a career-ending injury at her age. She hung up her board — named Senbazuru, in case you thought Victor was the only one who names his snowboards — and found a full-time job, which happened to be at the fitness center in Kiyomatsu. She was thrilled when Victor started working there last summer too, and that's when they hatched their plan for Sakura to get back into the game by coaching him.

Sakura replied to my text, saying that she was indeed with Victor, and they they were going to watch Seiji in his first freestyle event. She said the event order had been switched, so that the women's parallel giant slalom would be in the morning and the men's event in the afternoon. I told her that I didn't know how long I was going to be in the city, but if I could, I'd try to get back in time.

«Tell Victor I said not to break his neck» was the next message I sent to her.

Her response was an annoyed face emoji and «That's not funny. I'm not telling him that.»

As much as I didn't want to admit it, her reply hurt, like a sharp little jab in the center of my chest. Belatedly, it occurred to me that she had no clue about our little pre-competition ritual. Maybe Victor told her we'd had a disagreement, and now she thought I was being a smartass.

I considered asking her to pass her phone to Victor so I could call and talk to him, but just as I was about to do that, the door of the conference room opened, and my boss walked in with a white lady who looked like she'd had a couple of sleepless nights.

She was the representative of our client, and her name is Helena Flatt. I had to suppress the urge to ask if there was a correlation between her surname and the success of her attempt at humour.

Honestly, I did try feel even a tiny shred of sympathy for her, but no matter what, I couldn't. This woman wasn't only ruining my day, but undoubtedly Victor's as well.

«Tell him I love him» I hurriedly texted to Sakura, and then I had to put my phone down as Mr. Tanaka greeted me and gestured for the frazzled Ms. Flatt to sit across from me at the table.

My phone was on silent, but I didn't hear it buzz with a new reply from Sakura. I wondered if she'd given Victor my last message.

[bored-mumma]

Text Message Part Two - Chris Evans x Reader

MASTERLIST

PART ONE

TITLE: Text message CHAPTER NO/ONE SHOT: Chapter 2 WORD COUNT: 2104 (I got carried away) ORIGINAL IMAGINE: This by @theartofimagining13​ NOTES/WARNINGS: Swearing. Arguments. Gaslighting and toxic behavior. This is the final chapter for sure. Also I wrote this so quickly it just kind of flowered I bloody loved it. Maybe some proof-reading errors. 

Small patches of light crept in through your window, barely being blocked by the blinds. Birds sang their songs from outside, trees swayed gently in the breeze. Everything indicted a calm, warm morning. Except that was far from how things were for you.

Last night, you told your boyfriend, Chris, to not bother coming home if he's going to continue to accuse you and ask to check through your phone. And he didn’t come home. You stayed awake for a long time after getting home. By the time you calmed down, had a bubble bath and watched some TV, it was three in the morning and still no sign of Chris. With a sad sigh, you turned off the telly, rolled over and attempted some sleep.

Now it was nearly nine in the morning. You awoke with groggy eyes, feeling extremely deflated and your cheeks dry from the tears you shed last night. You weren't used to waking up in a cold bed alone. Usually, Chris would awake first. He would roll over, wrap his arms around your waist and gently wake you with his warmth and kisses to your cheek. It was a wake-up call you always adored, no matter what time it would be. But today just felt cold and lonely.

Sitting up, you reached to grab your phone from your bedside table, your stomach turning as you remember more of the argument from the night before. Half of you hoped you would see some messages from Chris, maybe some missed calls. Something to tell you he was sorry and saw the error of his ways. But as you scrolled through all your notifications, you realised there was nothing from him. You debated whether or not to be the bigger person, to text him first and apologise but your stubborn side came out to play before you could - you technically didn't have anything to apologise for! He was the overly jealous one. He was the one who ruined nearly every date you had with his accusations. He was the one who wanted to breach your privacy. You were nothing less than a faithful girlfriend who fell in love with a man with a lot of emotional baggage.

That morning dragged like crazy. You took a shower to try and clear your mind, even ordered in your favourite breakfast from the diner down the street. But your mind always wandered back to Chris. You realised you weren't even sure where he stayed! Was he safe? Just as panic was starting to flow through you, your phone pinged.

Can we talk?

Chris had text you first. Part of you was so happy he did. Maybe that meant he realised he was the one in the wrong and therefore he was the one who had to make the first move to make it right! The other part of you hated the vague words of the message. Can we talk? Does that mean Chris wants to make things better or... No, no it must mean he wants to make everything better. You two were an amazing couple, fully infatuated with each other. It just Chris' insecurity got in the way sometimes. You felt for him and the heartbreak he must have felt when he discovered his ex-fiancée was having an affair with his best friend and you understood how that would affect his ability to trust. But this was getting too much for you to handle. He was right. You guys needed to have a nice long, good talk.

You text him back asking what time he could come home and he replied saying he can be there in twenty minutes. You pottered around as you waited. Made some tea for you both, quickly did some tidying, basically did what you could to try and not overthink what you will say to Chris. However, before you knew it, you heard a key in the door and Chris stepping inside. You walked over to see him and the two of you stared at each other for a moment.

"Hi." He said at last.

"Hello." You replied. The air felt awkward and thick. You hated it. "Take a seat, I made you some tea." You scurried out into the kitchen as Chris made himself comfortable. You took your time grabbing the tea, your heart was beating like crazy from nerves. You didn't know what you wanted to say. All you knew, was you desperately wanted things to change. You were so unhappy and that wasn't fair for you! You came back into the living room with the tea to see Chris sitting on the armchair, still wearing his coat and shoes indicating he doesn't plan on staying for very long.

"Thank you," He said, taking his mug. "Look, we need to talk about what happened last night." He sounded quiet, his voice hoarse. As you listened, you noticed the bags under his eyes and how his clothes, the ones he was wearing last night, were all dishevelled, like he slept in them. "This is not how I want my relationship to go," He continued. "I love you. I just... I struggle to trust you. Which is my problem! I know that! And I'll work on that. But you have to meet me in the middle here."

"Meet you in the middle?" You asked, shaking your head slightly with confusion. Chris took a deep breath before he explained.

"I feel like it's unfair you wouldn't let me have your phone last night." He said it like it was so obvious. It took all your strength not to interrupt him, telling him to stop talking before he starts pissing you off. "I mean, I let you use mine all the time. You know I have trust issues, I was just asking for a little help to deal with that."

"I shouldn't have to give up my privacy to help you with your issues." You said, a little more harshly than you intended. "How about couples therapy? Get through this without breaking any boundaries." You tried to reason but it became clear that was not a good route to take. Chris stood and started to pace around the chairs.

"Why do you need privacy from me? I'm your boyfriend! We don't need to waste our time at therapy. All I'm asking is for one simple thing. You can look through mine and I'll look through yours." He stood in front of you now, his frame towered over yours which was still sat on the chair. "You wonder why I get so jealous or - or possessive and then go pull some bullshit like last night!"

"I didn't pull any bullshit!" You said, standing up to meet Chris' harsh gaze. "I asked you to sort your shit out. What about this screams like a good relationship to you Chris? The yelling, the accusations, the constant checking up on me!"

"I don't check up on you." He looked at you like you were mad.

"You call me about fifty thousand times a day, Chris. Which I wouldn't mind so much if you didn't get neurotic every time I accidentally missed a call or took too long to answer a message." You felt tears start to sting your eyes as you finally allowed all your frustrations out, voice getting louder with each word. Usually, you would just try and help Chris in any way you could but no more. No more would you roll over and let him have his way. "You're controlling and jealous all the god-damn time Chris and I can't cope with it anymore!"

The two of you stood still, staring at each other. Both knowing what was coming, neither wanting to be the one to do it. Eventually, you took the jump.

"I don't..." You swallowed, trying hard to not let too much emotion out. You knew if you did, you would break down crying. "I don't think this is working anymore, Chris." You looked away, not bearing to watch the tears that were starting to drop from his eyes. He stepped closer to you so that your bodies were touching. You could smell his cologne, feel his warmth. My God you loved him. "I think our time together is done." You felt his hand under your chin, two fingers holding it and tilting your head so you looked up at him. Using his other hand, he brushed some hair from your face. You felt the familiar tingle on your skin where he touched you. Even after all this time together, he still made you giddy. You stared at him in the eyes as he held you.

"Who is he?" He whispered.

Your head span when he asked. What? What the hell? Who's who? You realised what he meant. Even now, he thinks there's someone else. Even when his possessiveness has pushed you so far to the edge you had no choice but to jump. He still believed your heart belonged to another. You realised right then, nothing will ever make him believe you. You could stand here and rip your chest open, bleeding out as you gave him your heart and he would still tell you it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. His trauma was too much for you to handle anymore and it was finally time to start putting yourself first again.

"I know you probably won't believe me Chris, but I need you to listen to me." You took his face in your hands, making sure to make strong eye contact as you spoke. "I love you. No one else, ok? Never anyone else. I was faithful. I was strong. I loved you more than I thought I ever could." The tears started to fall from both your eyes at a much quicker pace. "None of the incredible things that have happened to me in the past few years would have happened to me without you. I owe you for that. But I owe myself to be happy too." You used your thumb to wipe away some of the tears from his cheeks. "I love you. So much. But we need to end. I can't do this anymore." Chris took your hands in his. He pressed his lips against them both as a way to muffle his cries. "I'm so sorry." You sobbed. "I'm sorry Chris. I wish I was strong enough to keep going but I'm not. I love you."

Chris dropped your hands and grabbed your face, bringing it towards him as he hurriedly captured your lips in a breath-taking kiss. He held you close to him, your kiss becoming salty as your tears mixed on your tongues. He tasted of his usual toothpaste along with some of the tea he barely touched. His hair felt soft as you ran one of your hands through it, using the other to grab his coat and pull him closer. When the need for air became too much, you pulled away, chest rising and falling as you both tried to catch your breath. You stared at him, debating whether this was the right choice. You loved him so much your heart hurt. But what came next... you knew you made the right decision.

"Does he kiss you like that?"

Your mouth dropped at those words. Nothing would ever change. You walked away from him, picking up his keys from the table and handing them over to him.

"I'm at work tomorrow, I'll make sure your stuff is packed and ready for you to collect whilst I'm out." You muttered. You had cried too much all ready for a relationship that died months ago. You refused to cry anymore. Chris took the keys from your grip and stared at you. His jaw twitched. Clearly words were trying to escape from his lips but he wouldn't let them. You had never seen Chris like this. You couldn't tell what he was feeling. But that was no longer your problem.

"I hope he breaks your heart like you did mine," Chris said at last. When you didn't reply, Chris let out a dry laugh before walking out of your home. For the very last time.

You finally allowed yourself raw emotions. You collapsed onto your sofa, hands scrunched over your face as you bellowed, cries echoing off the walls. You could feel your heart breaking in two as you realised he would never hold you again. That you would never wake up to his hugs, that would never taste his lips on yours again. But it was for the best. You deserved someone who would trust you and that someone, sadly, would not be Chris Evans. No matter how much you loved him, he was not the man you were destined to be with.

A/N: Oh I’m sorry you wanted a happy ending? We don’t do that here.

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 20

The Darkling x Reader

He carried you to your bed that night, gently slipping off your kefta and taking out the uncomfortable hairpin in your hair while you slept like a baby.

Zoya had barged into his office earlier and mentioned that you were swarmed with duties so naturally he did was had to be done and took it all on himself for that day. Your door felt no vibrations from knocks after Zoya left and the 'accidental dozing off' turned into your full night sleep with Aleksander by your side yet again.

You were furious as you woke up, to say the least. Your enraged muttering breaking Aleksander's sleep as you whipped out from under his arm and out the bed. You only dared to shoot him a look of displeasure before you slammed the door shut as you left. He barely registered your body running around the room, nevermind the nasty gaze sent his way

'Good morning to you too'

****

'Is everything in order?' You were still fixing the kefta belt as you approached the head of guards.

'Yes Deputy. We've been letting performers in for about an hour now and it's all going smoothly.'

'No requests to see the Sun-Summoner?'

'Plenty, but we've taken care of them just as Zoya Nazyalensky told us to.' He curtly nodded, tilting his head in the way of the prison-holding cells.

'I'm glad to hear that.'

As you went to see how Marie's kefta was coming along, you found the room empty and her nowhere to be found, the seamstress looking equally as confused as she entered the bare room. You caught Genya heading for the Vezda suit out of the corner of your eye and called her name loudly.

'Marie is late to her kefta fitting, like very late. Do you have any idea where she is?'

'I think she may be with Alina, I'll be sure to fetch her' she said and waltzed away from you.

'Genya wait!'

'Yes?'

'When you get Ms.Starkov ready, give her this ring' You dug around in your pocket for the metal ring and handed it to the red-haired Tailor. 'Make sure she's wearing it.'

'Of course Deputy.'

You watched her white kefta diminish behind the doors and sighed loudly, going down the mental to-do list of the morning. I'm already tired.

*****

'Have you seen the Deputy?' Aleksander asked Ivan as they headed for his chambers.

'Last I seen she was helping conduct perimeter checks with Fedyor.'

'Good.' He wanted to see you in your winter fete kefta, silently hoping you chose to keep with the black but he knew he was being greedy. He can't have both you and Alina.

'Get her for me, I need to speak to her.' Ivan nodded and turned back around in search of you, clearly displeased at the task.

Putting his lust for you away, Aleksander returned to a working state of mind. He needed to speak to you before the fete started. It was essential you heard what he had heard from the Grand Palace.

He retreated to his chambers and began to get ready for the fete until a certain someone entered the room unannounced.

***

'Deputy Y/L/N, the General wishes to speak to you.' Ivan was at your door with a glum look on his face as a team of ladies tended to your hair and face.

'Now?' You laughed but he only shrugged. You rolled your eyes and signaled for them to finish what they were doing and let you leave.

The ladies frowned but stepped away, clearly dissatisfied. Not only did they get a late start due to you chasing Alina and Genya down on the Palace courtyard, but now they had to finish early too. You had yet to change out of your kefta and into the fete's outfit but for now, you ignored your appearance.

All that mattered to you was that the evening went smoothly and without security threats and if the General requested to see you, you would be there to discuss whatever had gone wrong. This is Ravka after all, something always goes wrong.

'I'm coming, relax your frown for once.' You joined him at the door and walked silently alongside him to the Darkling's quarters. The Palace was buzzing with life as foreign ambassadors took up residence in the rooms and servants prepared the spaces with brimming luxury. Ravka needed to display its strength and wealth today and if it meant meticulously counting the fresh roses in each room, that was what was had to be done.

Although your demeanor showed a relaxed and posed facade, you were very stressed. You hadn’t gotten enough sleep recently and given your extreme training schedule before you arrived at the Palace, the amount of time you spent using them now, or lack thereof, had managed to dwindle you mentally. You were hanging on by a mere thread.

Ivan knocked on the door for you before moving away to the side. You didn't wait for his response and just walked in but stopped short when you looked ahead. The Sun-Summoner you had scolded not even 30 minutes ago was standing in his quarters, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He stood next to her looking equally as red-handed. Realization flooded you that you had interrupted an intimate moment between the two summoners. You cleared your throat, trying your best to act normal.

'You requested to see me, General.' His head tipped up at your collected demeanor, wondering whether you felt the tension too.

'Yes, I did' He moved around to the table, walking past Alina who decided it would be best she left and got ready. You smiled at her as she left, muttering some pleasantry about seeing her at the fete but deep inside the jealousy began boiling in you despite your attempts to rationalize it.

'Y/N -'

'Let's not talk about it. Please.' Your voice was a whisper, a strong contrast to the voice Alina heard. 'I agreed to the plan, I have no right to argue with you.' You feebly smiled. His stare was pitiful on you but he did as you asked.

'I need you to speak to the Queen when she arrives at the Little Palace.'

'Why?' Your face contorted into an expression of confusion and disgust, quickly forgetting about what just happened.

'My intel tells me she is in awe of you. Genya overheard her speaking to one of her aids about you and a possible position for you in the Grand Palace'

Your eyes widened at his words. You had been tolerating the Queen like a toddler, giving into her whims and tantrums in hopes of her staying calm, not in hopes of being whisked away to work for the crown.

'Are you serious?'

'Yes'

'Saints' The weird headache was back, settling into the back of your head like a dull drum.

'Listen to what she has to say'

'Do you think I would accept whatever she has to offer? You'd be a fool to assume I would even consider it.' He turned away from you, displeasure obvious on his face.

'I just ask that you entertain her. And would it really be so bad? Whatever it may be, it would aid our course substantially-'

'All I ever wanted and needed were my Grisha, Aleksander. That's why I came back, not for the Lantsov Crown.'

'I'm not forcing you into anything Y/N. Just listen to her.' His voice was soft and gentle like he was lulling you down from an outburst but you knew he was plotting, taking every advantage he could grasp.

'Alright.' you sighed, still processing all the information at once. The Queen, The Fete, The Grand Palace, Alina, and Aleksander. It was clouding your mind like a fog. 'I should go get ready' Your mind was bursting at the seams with thoughts and speculations, you needed to have some alone time and you prayed to the Saints 20 minutes would be enough to put yourself at ease.

He reached out for you but you were already moving to leave, leaving him hanging in his chambers with a look of sorrow on his face.

Your feet dragged you to your chambers with little energy but much heaviness. The Summoner blue gown and kefta hanging on the door were glued to your gaze as you debated even going to the fete.

Within a span of 10 minutes, Aleksander had somehow managed to overwhelm you to the point of a lingering breakdown. You weren't sad or angry or jealous, you were overwhelmed, your mind was blank yet full and it made you want to cry. The stress of the last couple of days did not help either.

But alas you got yourself together, wiping the lone tears away and putting on your fete attire. It was heavy and comforting, like an armor ready to be destroyed as you entered the battlefield. The foreign diplomats were to meet you today and bring word back to their home countries about the Witch, the Deputy Commander of Ravka's Grisha Army and you would look the part too.

You held your head high and radiated the most powerful energy you could muster while you walked to the makeshift throne room before the official start of the fete. She was sitting there next to the King looking every part of a Lantsov Queen.

The crown settled on her head nicely and looked to be of perfect fit as you approached her, curtseying and making pleasant conversation. It was draining to listen to her empty stories in anticipation of what you knew was coming. In a shocking reality however, you had no idea what she was really thinking and neither did Aleksander, or Genya, or anybody.

It wasn't until she grabbed your wrist tight in her hold and made you kneel next to her in the empty room did you freeze and crumble beneath her. The King was watching eagerly with his head held high and a smirk on his face. In that moment all you were was their subject and she was the Queen, commanding a commander. You were no General, or Grisha, or high ranking officer. You were simply a girl who held their eyes for too long. A girl who was not simple but regal.

It was nothing short of debilitating. The facade crumbling and crashing to the ground with silent thuds while the words stuck in your head like a pulsing bee sting.

'We wish for you to marry my son, my dear Nikolai'

--------

Part 21

Shockerrrrr I know but don’t worry for those who haven’t read the novels, I will not be introducing Nikolai as a character. Maybe I will when I decide to move this to AO3 but not as of right now.

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @adoringb @grisha-of-shadow-bone @rosiethefairy

[infjsnightmare]

How You Met: ADA Style

This is a dumb little bsd drabble for readerxADA in how you met + their first words to you. If people like this, I might do it for the port mafia, guild and other characters as well, so let me know if that is something you're interested in! I also debated whether or not to include kenji, naomi and kyouka since they are not 18, but since it is just fluffiness, I thought it should be okay.

Dazai: You were in a rush, late for work. Your arms were full as you scurried through the crowded street and into the crosswalk. Except the light for pedestrians was red. A bandaged hand quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you into a firm chest as brown eyes stared down at you. A wide smile spread on the man's face.

"A beauty like yourself commiting suicide alone would be a crime."

Atsushi: You were starting your first day at your first job waiting tables for the cafe below the ADA. You were in the middle of pouring a cup of coffee when you heard the chime of the door. You turned to say welcome, except you didn't bring the cup with you, instead pouring coffee straight from the pot all over the floor. The pale young man had a split second of shock before grabbing some napkins to clean the floor. A tinge of pink dusted his cheeks as he knelt down.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry if I startled you!"

Kunikida: You saw a young girl trying to get her cat out of the tree with tears in her eyes and had rashly volunteered to help. Getting into the tree and securing the cat wasn't the problem- it was getting back down. You carefully shifted your feet back towards the trunk of the tree, holding the cat with one arm and reaching for a branch with the other. Suddenly, your left foot slipped off the tree and you quickly held the cat with both arms to protect it from the fall. You closed your eyes bracing for impact only to feel a pair of strong arms holding you. Opening your eyes, you were met with sharp green eyes set behind a pair of glasses.

"You should be far more careful! I'm at least 2 minutes behind schedule now."

Junichiro: You were studying late in the public library, but you could already feel the heavy droop of your eyelids. You lowered your head onto your book and felt sleep slowly overtake you. You slept soundly, an occasional soft snore escaping you lips until you felt a gentle tapping on your shoulder. You looked up seeing a friendly smile as the young man chuckled next to you.

"The library is about to close and I don't think you'll be able to study through osmosis with your textbook."

Naomi: You entered your new school as inconspicuously as possible. You didn't want to transfer schools for your final year of high school, but it wasn't your choice after all. You found your shoe locker and wordlessly changed into your school slippers. By the time you had them on, there was a girl standing by your side, smile beaming from ear to ear.

"I haven't seen you before- you must be new! I'm Naomi. Welcome!"

Ranpo: You were headed back to Yokohama after going to Shibuya for dinner with some old friends. You bought your ticket back and gracefully made your way through the droves of people, until you saw a smaller man wandering around looking lost. You inwardly wondered if he was searching for someone until you noticed his face light up as he laid eyes on you. He instantly came rushing over to you.

"You're from Yokohama, right? Take me with you!"

Kenji: You had been tending to the vegetable garden all day, pulling weeds just as your parents had instructed. But, the sun was boiling hot and you were pretty sure you had sweated out the last of the water in your body. You laid back in the grass, body splayed, soaking in the warmth of the sun and feeling the slight burn on your skin. That was until you felt a cold, wet shock against your cheek. Blinking quickly, you saw a freckled blonde boy around your age pressing a cold energy drink from the vending machine against your cheek with the sweetest expression on his face.

"You'd better keep hydrated! It's supposed to be a hot one out today!"

Yosano: You were out shopping, trying to find an outfit for a job interview you had coming up. So far everything you had tried on just didn't look the way you wanted. As you put the latest disappointment back on the rack, an angry salaryman shoved past you, pushing you into the rack. You were fuming as you turned to yell, when you saw a lithe woman grab him by the tie.

"Look asshole, you really need to watch where you're going! Now, apologize to them before I crush your family jewels!"

Fukuzawa: The rain was absolutely pouring this lovely night. You stared out the window of your cat cafe deciding to wait out the storm before heading home. You went through all the daily motions of closing up the cafe. All that was left were lights and the open sign. You lazily stroked a gray cat as you checked the clock, waiting for the rain to pass. Your thoughts were interrupted as a man dressed in a yukata walked in shaking his umbrella off outside the door before shutting it fully and locking eyes with you. You could barely make out the slightest hint of embarrassment.

"Are you still open? I was hoping I could duck in here until the storm passes, if that's alright."

Kyouka: You were sitting at the cafe, fired up about the eating competition. You'd been warming up for months, seeing how many crepes you could stuff into your face each day in preparation. The winner of this contest would get their name on a placard in the restaurant and free crepes for a year- any broke high school student's dream. You saw your opponent, a petite girl in a kimono, walk over to your table and bow her head lightly, but her eyes held the fiercest determination you'd ever seen.

"I wish you the best of luck and may the best man win!"

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 22: Dukexiety

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 22:  When you close your eyes, you can see what your soulmate sees.

Content warnings: Sleep deprivation/what could be considered insomnia, food mentions, energy drinks, parental abuse, drunk abuse, mentioned anxiety attack, physical altercation, dissociating, school security, maybe PTSD?

Word count: 3.5k 

For as long as Remus could remember, he’d hated sleeping. 

At some points it got so bad he couldn’t function. Falling asleep at the breakfast table before violently jolting awake, asking his mother or teacher to repeat things four or five times until it finally clicked that they were asking if he was okay, staring off into space for what felt like a couple minutes, only to learn that it was several hours later and he’d missed dinner. Roman had gotten used to his twin’s habit of losing sleep, and although it never ceased to worry him, it became more of a given thing that if Remus forgot to do his chores, it was (most of the time) an accident. He’d walk into their shared room and snap his fingers in his face a few times, ask if he wanted dinner until Remus finally understood, and then help him stumble downstairs. 

It was also a given in their family that if Remus ever did fall asleep, whether in his own bed, or on the couch, or outside in the backyard, never wake him up. He so rarely got any rest whatsoever that the seldom times he was able to conk out, it wasn’t uncommon for him to be down for over twenty hours. In those cases, their parents would silently close all the curtains and shut off the lights if he was indoors, or cover him with their deck umbrella and lay a blanket on him if he was outside, and make it law to not disturb him. He’d miss school, it was fine, just let him sleep.

And it was all because of his soulmate. 

Because it wasn’t so much the act of sleeping in itself that he hated. No, the times he actually got deeper than the REM phase, when he was actually out, it was amazing. Blissful and relaxing and made him so hyper aware when he finally woke up. Like the colors were no longer dim and words made sense the first time they were uttered. It was the actual act of falling asleep, when he had to close his eyes but was still fully conscious, that he hated. 

He didn’t have a proper idea who his soulmate actually was. Every time he closed his eyes and their vision fused, when he saw everything his soulmate saw from their perspective, they never seemed to be around a mirror. That would have made life a whole lot easier, if he only knew what it was. Then at least he’d have a chance to save them.

It started when he was little, when their soulbond was just forming. Back then, it was still shaky and glitchy, sometimes showing what his soulmate was seeing, and sometimes just showing the blackness of his eyelid. He saw grassy fields of a park that he couldn’t identify, a dimly lit bedroom with toys scattered on the floor, the night sky from a window that wasn’t his. But then it morphed; playgrounds becoming littered liquor bottles on the floor of an unkempt living room, dark lego-covered carpet evolving from something once played upon to something his soulmate was thrown harshly onto, the view of the stars suddenly filled with the face of a screaming man. The man. 

Remus had no idea who the man was, but he knew his face well. He knew every fury filled expression on his drunken face, the way his nose wrinkled in disgust, how his mouth twisted and contorted as he screamed. Their ears weren’t connected, so he couldn’t tell what the man was saying, but it was punctuated with flying fists and hands gripping collars, thrown beer bottles and pushes to the ground. It didn’t happen every time he closed his eyes, but it had happened enough for Remus to suddenly jerk awake the moment their vision was shared out of pure panic. It happened enough that if his mother reached up to adjust his hoodie strings, he’d flinch violently, or when Roman snuck up on him just a little too quietly, his hands would fly over his face to protect himself. He wouldn’t develop bruises, or take the undoubtedly cruel things the man said to heart, but he was still affected. If he tried to sleep, and the man appeared in his sight, he’d bury his face in his arms, eyes wide and staring at his pajama pants, knowing what was happening to his soulmate however far away they were and he was unable to do anything to help. At least he could open his eyes and be free of the horrors. It was only in the rare instances when he’d close his eyes and his soulmate was already asleep, revealing nothing but the black void behind his eyelids, that he could actually sleep. 

When Roman awoke that morning, he blinked his bleary eyes and turned to the other bed in the room, sighing when Remus’ bloodshot eyes met his from where he was curled against the wall, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The bags under his eyes had worsened more than they had before. If he was counting right, this was the third night in a row that Remus hadn’t slept at all. The last time he’d slept had been days ago, and only been for a couple hours before he awoke with a sob.

“Are you okay?” 

In a move unlike Remus, he shook his head no. He rarely admitted that he wasn’t fine, but it was getting to that point of almost mania where his eyes glazed over every couple minutes, hands constantly shaking, unaware of anything around him.

“You probably shouldn’t go to school today.”

“It’s f’ne,” Remus mumbled, hitting his head into his arms, “T’st in Engl’sh. Gotta go.”

“It’s not like you to care about school.” Roman threw his blankets off, noticing the way Remus flinched at the sudden movement, and began to change out of his pajamas.

“S’nior year. Failing Engl’sh. Ac’demic probation.” 

“Ah,” Roman hummed, gingerly placing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie in front of Remus. “Is English your first class?”

“Mmhm.”

“How about I drive you back home after your test?”

Remus had zoned out, staring blankly at the clothes in front of him, so Roman took that as a yes. As much as he hated letting Remus go to school when he was like this, he knew that if he didn’t drive him, Remus would find a way to go by himself and probably accidentally walk into the highway or something. 

By the time Remus zoned back into the real world, Roman had left the room. Lethargically, he changed into the lazy outfit Roman had placed in front of him and pushed himself off the bed, debating if he had the energy to brush his teeth or not. Just as he was considering just pouring the toothpaste into his mouth and gurgling it, Roman walked into the bathroom with an open can of Monster. 

“I have a stash in the basement so Mom doesn’t find them. Keep it down low and don’t take them, or I’ll cut you off.”

Remus didn’t even realize he’d grabbed the energy drink until he had half finished chugging the can, almost sighing at the immediate burst of adrenaline. 

“Hell yeah.”

“Get ready and be downstairs in twenty minutes or I’m leaving without you.”

It was an empty threat, they both knew it, but Remus rolled his eyes anyways and set about to brushing his teeth, pulling out his phone to check the time. There was a barrage of missed messages and notifications that he hadn’t been able to care about after sleepless night number two, so he sent back explanations to the people who’d questioned his disappearance and gotten up to date on what he’d missed on social media. 

He stumbled downstairs as Roman was opening the front door, offering him a bagel silently. Their parents were both at work already, so they locked the door and got into Roman’s car. Remus wasn’t allowed to get his license, not when there was a solid chance that he’d fall asleep behind the wheel. 

“I’m driving you home after English, capiche?”

“I’d probably skip after the test either way.” His hands twitched against his bouncing legs, still unbearably exhausted but now with his heart beating at a rabbit’s pace. 

“You are not walking.”

“Yes, mom.”

Roman let out a tired sigh, leaving the drive quiet except for the soft sounds of the radio hosts. When they pulled into the school lot, minutes before the bell, Remus was getting out of the car before it had stopped all the way.

“Meet me in the main office after first period, dipshit!” Roman yelled as Remus disappeared into the building, flipping him off and letting the doors close behind him just as Roman shouted something else. Whatever. 

While caffeine was perhaps his most helpful crutch in this nightmare that was living, it had side effects. As soon as his test paper was down before him, his mind completely blanked of every word he’d ever heard in his entire life. Though, in all fairness, that also probably would have happened without the energy drink. He was so used to barely sleeping that it had become a norm to him, but it wasn’t a healthy way to live, so even if he’d learned how to function on twelve hours of sleep a week (on good weeks), his brain hadn’t quite caught on.

The instructions for the test wavered and throbbed before him as he blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to banish the blurriness from his sight. He could barely hold a pencil in his shaking hands, his thoughts somehow flying at the speed of light and equally as stuck and lethargic. Pretty much how he felt. 

“Remus?”

His head flew up, his unruly bangs flopping into his eye. Since when did he need a haircut?

“I’ve been calling you for a few minutes now,” His teacher said quietly. Although they were trying to hide it, he could see his classmates glancing at him from the corners of their eyes, “Are you alright?”

As if perfectly on cue, he could feel his mind zoning out again, vision going blurry as his thoughts disappeared. Vaguely, he could feel a gentle hand on his arm slowly lifting him to his feet, a voice giving a foggy command to the class, and then he was led out of the room, the painfully bright hallway lights blinding him. It also brought him back to the present, ever so slightly, as he was taken down the hall to the main office. In the back of his mind, he was grateful for it, because this was where Roman would pick him up. Did this mean he was going home now? Was the test over?

“-last time he slept. He keeps zoning out. I think it would be best if he went home and retook the test another time.”

Hm? He blinked hard, until his eyeballs hurt, to try and get the gears in his brain to start working again. The teacher was talking to one of the secretaries, and they both kept looking to him in concern. 

“Can I call someone to come pick you up, Remus?” The secretary asked, already flipping through her contacts book.

“His brother also goes here, and can probably take him home. Would be easiest,” The teacher cut in before the question had even fully settled in Remus’ mind, and he internally cheered. At least that was settled. And by the sounds of it, he could do his test another time, which was a huge weight off his shoulders. He didn’t have, nor desire, Roman’s perfect grades, but he at least wanted to graduate.

“I’ll get him excused from class. Thanks for bringing him by.”

Remus blinked again and realized the teacher had left, leaving him wavering in the middle of the office in front of a very worried secretary. She was saying something, her mouth was moving, but the words didn’t compute. However when she gestured to a dimly lit backroom, he got the message and stumbled in, nearly collapsing on the small cot in relief. The door was closed nearly all the way, leaving just a crack of light shining through. 

As much as a nice break the darkness was, it just made his eyes want to close farther, and took twice as much effort to keep them open. Pulling at the skin in the corners of his eyes, he reluctantly sat up and focused his stares on the miscellaneous anatomy posters on the wall. 

That was when his gaze fell to the hunched form in the corner, staring at him with dark glistening eyes, and he nearly fell off the cot.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He yelped. The figure flinched back, curling more into the chair they were perched on. 

“Sorry. She told you I was here when she brought you in. Didn’t you hear her?”

“In all honesty, no. I didn’t.” The two kept at their staring contest for longer than necessary, before Remus decided to break the silence, “So, what are you in for?”

For a good minute, he didn’t think he would get a response. The guy kept staring back at him, like he was trying to size him up, before he muttered, “Anxiety attack in class. Teacher forbade me from staying here.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yeah, well…” He finally broke the eye contact, staring down the nails he was picking at. “What about you?”

“Haven’t slept in three days, I think. Maybe four? I was all zone-y during a test so the teacher said I had to go home.”

“Damn teachers and their sudden respect for mental health.”

Remus snorted, resting his head against the wall. “Why’d you have a panic attack?”

“None of your business. Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

“Soulmate stuff,” Remus answered easily, not put off by the other’s suddenly annoyed tone. It wasn’t common to be unable to sleep due to a soulmate issue, whether it was trauma or another issue entirely, but it wasn’t unheard of either. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it sucks. Still don’t wanna tell me why yo-?”

“No.”

“I accept your rejection and will now take my leave to cry in the bathroom stall.”

The other boy actually snickered, a reaction Remus had been wishing for but hadn’t dreamed to expect. He waved a hand dismissively. “I hope you have a good cry.”

“Aw, thanks,” Remus cooed, leaning forward on his hands. “I haven’t seen you around. What’s your name?”

“Virgil. Only moved here recently.”

“How recent is recent?”

“Couple months.”

“Ah. I’m Remus. School disgrace, nice to meet you.”

“Oh boy, befriending the wrong crowd already.”

“I would be offended if you weren’t correct,” Remus grinned, hitting his baggy eyes a couple times with his fists.

“Virgil?” The nurse poked her head through the door, squinting in the low light, “Your dad’s here.”

Virgil stiffened immediately, casting Remus a look he didn’t quite understand before getting to his feet, pulling his bag onto his shoulder. She smiled at him and opened the door wider, gesturing for him to exit.

That’s when Remus saw him.

Him.

It took him a moment to understand that yes, his eyes were open, and yes, this was the man from his shared vision with his soulmate. 100% him, the same dark eyes and half grimace, except now wearing a pristine three piece suit that very much didn’t match his memories of him. He was signing a sheet, presumably to ensure that he’d picked Virgil up, and didn’t notice as his son stood frozen in the doorway, watching him with fear filled eyes.

Remus jumped to his feet, stepping next to Virgil.

“That’s your dad?”

Virgil let out a choked hum, one that was probably meant to be an affirmation, before gripping the strap of his backpack. “Why?”

“I’m your soulmate,” He said with absolutely zero tact, and the way Virgil’s face paled was enough indication that he’d understood. He gently laid a hand on the shorter’s shoulder, a silent indication to ‘stay here’, and marched towards the man at the desk. 

“Can I just say one thing?”

He looked up, surprised, and gave Remus a once over. His stomach twisted, being under the man’s gaze, the person who had made it impossible for him to sleep, now in front of him. Eye to eye, he appreciated, because in all the times he’d seen him second hand, he’d towered over him. Now they were the same height, and that brought a sick joy to him.

“I suppose?” The man asked, voice as calm and professional as his suit, looking to the secretary with an almost laugh.

“With all due respect,” Remus snarled, hand curling into a fist, “Fuck you.”

And then he hit him. Hard. All his pent up anger, years of watching his soulmate get beaten to a pulp, losing sleep until he was a zombie of himself, panic attacks of pure worry and fear, flew out in one punch, hitting him square in the nose and sending him stumbling back.

The secretary yelled something he didn’t hear over the blood pounding in his ears, and suddenly two arms were wrapped around his waist.

“Let me the fuck at him!” Remus screamed, fighting against the grip with everything he had. The man was on the ground, staring up at him with equal parts horror and pure rage, dabbing at his bleeding nose.

“Remus, breathe. Just calm down, you’re okay. Just breathe,” A shockingly calm voice whispered in his ear, and he immediately sagged against his brother, the restraining arms becoming supporting. 

“That’s him,” He said weakly, pulling away so he could turn to Roman, “That’s him.”

Roman furrowed his brow for a moment, looking between his twin and the man on the floor, before his eyes widened. He knew all of Remus’ stories, being the one a young Remus would come to when the visions got so bad he’d break down, listening to his rants about the abusive guardian of his soulmate. 

“Call the police,” He deadpanned, turning his glare to the secretary.

“I don’t think Remus-”

“Not for Remus, for him!” 

A gasping breath caught everyone’s attention and the focus shifted to the boy still standing on the doorway, his expression one of absolute terror, staring at his father. Remus broke completely away from his brother to cross to him just as the office door slammed open, two security guards-- the secretary had probably called them at the first punch-- taking in the scene before them. He could vaguely hear Roman explaining the situation, glad that he didn’t have to justify anything because he would most likely just end up throwing hands again. 

Virgil watched him approach, almost cowering in on himself, as Remus extended a hand. 

“Let’s get out of here. You’re not going back with him.”

It took the shorter boy a second, a nervous glance between his earnest eyes and the outstretched hand, before he took it in his own. Remus let a relieved smile take over, interlocking their fingers and leading him past the scene. As he passed a still talking Roman, he swiped the car keys from his pocket with no one any wiser.

“He’ll notice eventually,” He stage-whispered as they exited the large double doors, making their way through the parking lot. “I can’t drive, but we might as well sit in the car until Roman’s done.”

Virgil was quiet, allowing himself to be led through the rows of parked cars before Remus stopped, unlocking the doors and sliding into the backseat, pulling his soulmate in after him. There was a blanket tucked under the front seat and he yanked it out, unfolding it as well he could in the cramped space. 

The shorter boy was shaking violently, trying to hide his hands and now bleeding fingernails in his hoodie sleeves. Remus, for maybe the first time in his life, opened his arms for a hug, and was genuinely shocked by how fast Virgil lunged into his grip. He didn’t have many soft spots, but he could make one for his soulmate. 

“You’re not going back to him. Over my dead body. We’ll figure everything out later, but for now-” He shuffled backwards, leaning his head on the window so Virgil was basically laying on top of him, “I don’t know about you, but I have about a million hours of sleep to catch up on, so I’m going to catch a cat nap before Roman’s done.”

“It’s been a long day.”

“And it’s not even noon,” Remus snickered, maneuvering the blanket so it covered them both. 

He closed his eyes, and for a split second, all he saw was himself, from a lower angle. It was disorienting to say the least, but before he could comment, the world was engulfed in black as Virgil closed his eyes as well.

And for the first time in… who knows how long, Remus wasn’t afraid to sleep. 

[cjsinkythoughts]

Hard Floors & Soft Eyes

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1151

Warnings: A curse word or two, a sprinkle of angst, a load of fluff, mild FATWS spoilers, but nothing that wasn’t in the trailers (I think…but just to be safe, don’t read if you haven’t seen the episode/don’t mind spoilers.)

A/N: I know I’ve already written stuff today, but I’m off work today and with the episode out my mind won’t shut down. Also, I can’t get the idea of all three of my fellas having a hard time sleeping on the bed, so they just dogpile together on the floor, so here you go! A little snippet of what I imagine (just without Steve and a bit more angsty). This is for @the-marvel-horniest-book-club​ and their SamBucky week, Day 6 - Hurt/Comfort. Enjoy!

(Don’t forget to check out my Masterlist! 😘)

The first time Sam saw it was when he dropped by his place just to check up on him. It’d been a little over a month at that point, and Sam was a bit worried about him. He wasn’t answering any calls or texts and he’d missed his first therapist appointment. Sure, the man annoyed him, but he was Steve’s best pal, the last piece of the Captain besides the shield left behind. And Sam felt an obligation to the blonde to take care of him.

It was late, so Sam wasn’t sure if he’d be awake or not. When he got no response after knocking, he figured he wasn’t. Debating on whether to come back later, Sam decided to just head in to check up on him.

The first thing he noticed was the kitchen lights were on. So was the TV. He didn’t spot anything else out of the ordinary, until his dark gaze landed on a pair of legs tangled in sheets poking out from the other side of the small couch.

There was a sudden gasp, and Bucky’s head appeared over the arm of the sofa, a hand coming up to clutch his hair. Sam was at his side instantly, a comforting hand on his bare shoulder, eyes soft as his touch.

“Hey, hey. Hey, man. It’s okay. You’re alright.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky blinked, rubbing at his eyes, his breathing evening out as he panted. “What…what are you doing here?”

“You missed your first appointment. I figured I’d drop by and see how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s a load of bullshit.”

“It’s just a nightmare.” Bucky pushed the other man off, stretching his limbs before standing up. Sam straightened from his crouch to follow him to the kitchen. 

Sam frowned as Bucky got out a glass. “How often do you get them?”

Bucky shrugged, filling the cup with water. “Often enough that it’s normal. You want anything? I don’t got much, but-”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “I’m okay.”

“Alright.”

They didn’t mention the nightmares or the fact that Bucky was on the wooden floor instead of his bed for the rest of the night, opting instead to sit down and watch some TV in silence.

It was a few weeks after, when Sam stopped by again on Christmas, that he caught Bucky doing it again.

It was in the morning this time, and Sam wasn’t expecting him to be asleep, figuring he never slept much these days. Except he was. In the exact same spot as a few weeks prior. He sighed, padding over and squatting down, shaking Bucky’s shoulder gently.

“Wh-what?!”

“Chill.” Sam placed a hand on his shoulder again. Bucky blinked, before relaxing when he realized it was the Air Force vet. “I brought you something.” Sam pulled out a small box wrapped in red, green, and white striped wrapping paper. “Merry Christmas, man.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, tentatively taking the box. “You-you got me a present?”

“Of course I did. It’s Christmas.”

“Yeah…I guess it is.” His lips turned down at the former assassin’s tone. He wondered when the last time he actually celebrated Christmas was. Wakanda? 1944 in some basecamp overseas? 1942 in Brooklyn with his family for the last time? 

“Well?” Sam chuckled, plopping down besides Bucky, crossing his legs underneath him. “Open it.”

Bucky shot him a hesitant look, before unwrapping the box. Three books were inside. J. R. R. Tolkien books. “Those are the sequels to The Hobbit I was telling you about. They came out in 1950…4. I think. Maybe ‘55.”

“I - uh - thanks.” Bucky looked up at him with those gentle puppy dog eyes of his and Sam felt his heartbeat skip

He shrugged, playing it off nonchalantly. “Figured it’d give you something to do…” The room went silent again, Sam’s eyes drifting to the pillow crammed in the corner between the wall and the couch. “So…havin’ trouble sleeping still?”

Bucky followed his gaze, licking his lips. “I just…I dunno. I can’t sleep in the bed.”

“Too soft. I know.” At Bucky’s slightly shocked look, Sam chuckled and explained. “Steve and I talked about it once. Our first meeting, actually. I served two tours, remember?”

“Oh. Right. So…you know, then.”

“Yeah.” Sam confirmed softly. He cleared his throat after another brief quietness enveloped the room. “I brought the movies, too.” He reached into his bag and pulled out the six DVDs. “I figured we could crank them all out today if you’re not doing anything.”

Bucky shook his head. “No. I’m not. But…but don’t you wanna spend time with your family? You’ve got a sister, right? And nephews?”

Sam waved dismissively. “I hung out with them all week. Just left last night. They’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

Sam went back to his place for New Year’s Eve, determination set in his eyes as he hauled the bag carrying the supplies needed for his plan.

“What’s that for?” Bucky wondered, eyeing the bag with curiosity and suspicion.

“You’ll see. Hey, I ordered pizza from that place down the street, Russo’s, but it needs to be picked up. Can you-?”

Bucky already had his keys in his hands. “Yup. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as the door shut behind the blue eyed brunette, Sam immediately got to work. He dumped out his materials, rolled up his sleeves, and started pinning, hooking, and tying things up.

By the time Bucky got back, he was almost done, just putting up the lights. The prisoner of war stopped in his doorway, wide eyes blinking in confusion as he stared at the other man’s creation.

“Ta-dah! Whaddya think?” Sam stood back, arms spread out, a proud beam on his face as he gazed at his masterpiece.

“Wh-why?”

“Whaddya mean why? If we’re gonna sleep on the floor every time I come here, I’m at least gonna make it comfortable.”

Blankets and sheets were hung up, fairy lights dangling and making the room glow softly. Plush throw pillows were scattered on the floor over a blanket that looked very fluffy and cozy.

“I got us onesies too! They’re the most comfortable things. Look!”

Bucky’s breath hitched at the pjs that Sam held up. They were styled as Steve’s uniform, complete with an attached hood/cowl and a pillow that looked like the shield. “I couldn’t decide on which ones to pick, so if you don’t like it I’ve got, like five other choi-”

Sam was cut off by toned arms, one flesh and blood, the other gears and metal, wrapping around him, squeezing him tightly. Sam immediately reciprocated, placing his chin on the other man’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” Came Bucky’s muffled voice from where his face was pressed into Sam’s neck.

Sam couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss to Bucky’s temple, a hand coming up to tangle in his hair, cradling his head against his shoulder. “Of course, Buck. Anytime.”

[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - vii (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The reader’s allies provide her with a way out.

Warnings: the reader gets hurt in this (slap), sketchiness, patriarchy, Strucker is an asshole, Steve is an asshole, Steve’s mood swings are in full force here LMAO, mentions of sex, overuse of the word “whore”, oh there’s a reveal in this (but it’s probably not what y’all are expecting), probably really bad writing if i’m honest... this was kinda rushed

Word Count: 2.9k

I hope you guys enjoy!

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

After the execution of Sister Mary, the kingdom seemed to be at a standstill. Weeks later, the woman’s last words – “And you will be put to rest in an early grave and may you rot in hell along with (Y/N) Stark, your future widow.” – still hung in the air. Her headless body had been removed from the platform, but the blood still stained the wood and the ground underneath. When you stared at the dried crimson that later turned into an awful brown shade, you could still hear her strong words and feel her stare.

But the woman’s words didn’t seem to phase Steven. It was as if he expected her outburst. He slept soundly next to you the night he beheaded her and every night after. His snores filled the room and you watched his chest rise and fall. You imagined what he dreamt about. You wondered if he had any remorse.

You wouldn’t know. He’s barely spoken to you in the weeks that followed except for the greetings in the mornings and when he bedded you at night. It felt as if he were apologizing for scaring you through his movements. Gentle, kind, loving. Everything that the man with the cold, murderous glare that took Sister Mary’s life couldn’t possibly possess.

You’d like to think that he was two different people. One was a heartless king that murdered his past two wives. The other was the loving husband who kissed every inch of your body and whispered sweet nothings as he made love to you.

But you’d be wrong, for they were two sides of the same coin that you were too afraid to toss.

Steven watched with a curious stare as his cousin walked up to you in the halls of the castle. Samuel’s words were ignored by the king as his eyes narrowed from seeing you two interact. Your ladies greeting Brock with small curtseys before being dismissed by you.

“Lord Pierce and I would like a private meeting,” Brock whispered in your ear.

“Where?” You asked.

“In the center of the garden – the one with the fountain – “

“I know which one.” You glanced over as your husband approached you both. “Thank you, Lord Rumlow.” He nodded before walking away. You made the motion to walk in the direction your ladies wandered off to, but Steven seized your forearm. His grip alone let you know which side of the coin he had landed on today. “My love, I trust that your matters with the state are going well?”

Steven pulled you close to him, so close you could feel his breath on your neck. “What did Rumlow want?”

He never took you for a liar. You weren’t good at it. You were an outspoken young woman who had a knack for articulating what was exactly on your mind, but you smiled at him – a forced one, he knew the difference by now.

“He was informing me about the change in the orphanage. The children are being housed elsewhere.” Steven saw the glint of fear in your eyes. He relinquished his grip before pulling his hands to his sides.

“That’s wonderful news.” Lord Wilson nodded when his king didn’t respond. He turned to Steven. “Your grace, shall we – “

“I would like to talk to my wife… Alone.” Samuel glanced at you then at his king before bowing his head and walking off. “Everyone, leave us!”

“The people are busy tidying and cleaning. Surely, they don’t need to leave.” You reasoned. You had no intentions of being alone with this side of the king.

“LEAVE. US.”  He repeated the order louder and everyone scurried out of the room. With the last slam of the door, Steven glanced at you again. He reached out and caressed your cheek gently. You held your breath. “I don’t like being lied to.”

“I didn’t lie.” He watched the muscles of your neck tense.

“What did Brock tell you?” You repeated your story about the children in the orphanage without hesitation. Steven let out a frustrated sigh. “You know as well as I do what rumors are capable of.”

“Of course.”

“I wonder what the servants are gossiping about when they see my wife – their queen – whispering with my cousin. He was awfully close to you. In a way only I should be. In broad daylight, too. They must think you’re both bold.”

“He was only just informing – “

“When you have my child, there must be no doubt about who the father is. You get close to a man who is not your husband, the rumors will damage us. It will weaken my child’s claim to the throne. Do you understand?”

“This is about your petty jealousy?” You snapped. “Damn the rumors, right? They’re just rumors, right, Steven? You shouldn’t listen to them as much as I shouldn’t.”

“Rumors about a cruel king and whore queen are two very different things.” Steven spat. You frowned at his words. How dare he… “A cruel king is feared, respected. A whore is not. Do you understand?”

You thought about Sharon and the men who favored her. You remembered how Steven had no hesitation in beheading Mary – how he probably had no hesitation in beheading Sharon, too. As much as he showed you affection, you realized he would show no hesitation in taking your life as well.

You bit back your response and nodded. “I’ve only been with you. I can assure you that.” You muttered, adverting your eyes and shifting underneath his hard stare.

You winced when your husband leaned in and pecked your lips. He stared at you though you didn’t meet his eyes. “The Duke will be arriving soon. I trust that you’ll be there when he arrives?” You nodded. And without another word, the king walked off leaving you alone in the empty hallway.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

“What is this about?” You asked as you walked towards the fountain. The two men were awaiting your arrival. Alexander sitting on the edge of the basin while Brock stood with his arms crossed.

“Can we trust you?” Pierce was straightforward in his question.

“I don’t understand?” You glanced over at Brock who studied you. “Shouldn’t that be my question? I still don’t know why you told me about Margaret and Sharon.”

“Because you deserved to know the truth.” Brock answered.

“What did the king tell you?” Pierce prompted.

You debated whether or not to tell them the truth. You didn’t know if you could trust these men. But then again, you didn’t know if you could trust anyone in this court. You need allies. Powerful ones that could protect you. Could Lord Rumlow and Lord Pierce be those friends?

You gulped and hoped that they would. “He told me that my friendship with Brock could inspire rumors and if I were to fall pregnant with his child that those rumors could potentially endanger us.”

Pierce nodded. “An affair is treason, too. He’d have grounds for your execution. Even your king father won’t be able to protect you.”

“I know.” You nodded. Your hands nervously tugged at your dress. The fabric felt tight around your abdomen. “To be frank with you, my lords, I’m afraid for my life. I lie awake at night and wonder when will he grow tired of me – when will I meet the same fate as his past wives?”

“Say any word and I will arrange for you to be brought to your home in York.” Pierce offered.

“If I go to York, my father will just send me back. Steven can send armed men to seize me and I’ll be brought back like a prisoner.” You shook your head. “I’m essentially his property, just titled as a princess and a queen for decoration to make it sound luxurious.”

“I can bring you to Wakanda,” Pierce rebutted. “King T’Challa is a tolerable and honorable man. If he hears that you are endangered by your father and your husband, he will shelter you in his kingdom and keep you safe.”

“We’ll smuggle you and your ladies out of Brooken on a boat. We’ll see you are protected in this voyage.” Brock added.

“In exchange for what?” You asked. “You’re risking your lives to protect me. Why?”

“We’ve seen far too many women die at his hands.” Pierce answered. “No more bloodshed.”

You weren’t sure if you should believe him. When you first acquainted yourself with the lords of the court, you quickly noticed how Steven’s moods fouled when Pierce and Rumlow were present. There had to be reason for that… But why were these two men so eager to keep you safe?

Then, your mind wandered to the other people who depended on you. Natasha had grown close to Lord Barnes, who was now openly courting her. You wouldn’t ask your friends to uproot their lives. You thought about your well-kept secret and how you needed Steven, your husband, who appeared to be slowly shedding his kind façade.

This was your way out… But should you take it?

“Thank you, my lords. I will keep this in mind.”

“Please do, your grace. We only want you to live.”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Your fatigue was evident on your face as the night wore on. Your husband was hosting another party to welcome a visitor, Duke Baron Strucker. You were briefly introduced to the man when he arrived. From what Lord Rumlow has told you, he had vast holdings of grain and it was his grain that fed majority of the people – and that the extravagant party was to stroke the man’s ego, so that he may continue to provide food.

Wanda was glued to your side the entire evening. The two of you watched as Natasha danced the night away with Lord Barnes. When the three of you were alone, you’d all gush about how the pair made a lovely couple.

“We should excuse you for the night.” Wanda whispered to you. A servant offered you a glass of wine and you smiled and shook your head. “You look tired, and in your condition – “

“I’m fine.” You told her. You squeezed her arm to assure her.

“Have you told him?” Wanda asked, her voice so low you almost didn’t hear her over the music.

Before you could answer, the guest of honor walked up to the both of you with your husband at his side. “The lovely Queen (Y/N)!” The Duke sloppily bowed. He was drunk from the many cups of ale he consumed throughout the night. “You did know how to pick ‘em, eh, Stevie?”

Your jaw clenched as you forced a smile. Your husband was just as uncomfortable as you but he was better at acting. “My love, are you tired?” He asked you. You faked another smile and shook your head. He didn’t believe you. “Lady Wanda, will you escort the queen – “

“Lady Wanda!” Strucker smiled, seizing Wanda’s hand in his and bringing it to his lips. She visibly cringed. In the corner of your eye, you saw her brother, Ser Pietro, tense up as if he felt her discomfort. “Ah, don’t be a tease, milady! You are a sight.”

“Thank you,” Wanda gulped. She tried to pull her hand away, but the man refused to let her go. During the awkward exchange, Natasha and James stopped dancing and hastily walked over to your group. Natasha’s eyes narrowed at the man’s grip on her friend’s hand as did Lord Barnes’s.

“Accompany me with a dance.”

“My king asked me to escort my queen to her chambers. I should heed – “

“Oh, just one dance!” The man argued. He pulled her but she refused to move. “C’mere, you little – “

“Unhand my lady.” You defended.

“(Y/N) – “Steve muttered, grabbing your arm.

You shrugged him off as you snatched Wanda’s hand away from the Duke. You gestured for Pietro to come forward and the knight did so with no hesitation. He took his sister and walked her out of the hall. You intended to walk after them, but the Duke wouldn’t stop talking.

“Oh, ‘em York girls really are a different breed, eh?” Strucker told your husband. He looked over Natasha, but when he saw how close she stood next to James, he adverted his eyes. He looked you up and down. He was shameless. With a smirk, he nudged your husband. “How’s the wife in bed?”

You whirled around and took a step towards the two men. You cocked up an eyebrow at Steven. The king coughed and shook his head. “Those are private matters, I’m afraid, Baron.” He chuckled, awkwardly.

“That Lady Wanda have any suitors? I’d love to – “

“The answer is no.” You said. “You may not court Lady Wanda.”

The man rolled his eyes, bringing his chalice to his lips. “Dresses like that, she looks like she belongs in a whorehouse rather than prancing ‘round court as a lady.”

Natasha’s jaw dropped and before she could defend her friend, you frowned and retaliated. “You are in my court and you will respect my ladies. Is that understood?” The man held his hands up in defense and nodded.

“(Y/N) – “Steven muttered, but you only glared up at him.

“How dare you allow your guests talk like that about my ladies.” You snapped.

The Duke gave the king a shocked look. He was surprised at how outspoken the new queen was. You didn’t hesitate to talk back or defend your friends. From what he understood, you were a princess – King Anthony Stark’s eldest daughter. Weren’t princesses groomed to be seen and not heard? How does the king deal with such fiery defiance? He wondered.

Steven clasped a hand on the Duke’s shoulder and bellowed a laugh. You frowned at your husband. Even Lord Barnes seemed to be taken back from the reaction. “I think you’ve had one too many to drink, my love. You best retire to your chambers. Lady Natasha, if you will.”

“Are you sending me to my room like a child?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows up in annoyance.

Steven only meant to exclude you from the narrative. You were disrespecting and challenging a noble who had control over much needed grain. But you didn’t know that. All you knew was that the man was disrespectful and rude and needed to be reminded of his place.

“Perhaps you should break this one in more,” Strucker chided. “She seems rather mouthy.”

“I beg your pardon?” You snapped. The commotion seemed to drag more attention. Lord Rumlow was rushed to your side. Steven frowned upon seeing his cousin try to pull you away.

“Perhaps, I should.” Steven said dryly. He glared at Brock’s hand on your arm as you glared at him.

“Steve – “Bucky whispered, pulling at the king’s arm.

“Perhaps, should I also sell Lady Wanda to a whorehouse? Since she dresses the part already.”

“Steve!” Bucky gasped. “The king’s drunk, your grace,” he said, turning to you. “He doesn’t mean it.”

Your eyes were nearly bulging out of your head. You pulled you arm away from Brock’s hand as you rushed towards your husband, pointing a finger into his broad chest. “Don’t you dare talk about my lady, my friend, in that manner, you vile monster!”

Steven’s face fell as the words escaped your lips. The whole court seemed to freeze. The music had stopped abruptly as the whole party watched you undermine the king in his own castle, at his own party. He looked over at Brock, who steadily tried to call your attention, trying to take you away from him. He felt anger bubbling up in his chest. He couldn’t stop his hand from striking you across the face.

Your head snapped to the side. You heard someone gasp. And again, the whole court was at a standstill.

Your skin tingled with pain as tears pricked in your eyes. Your shaky hand reached towards your burning skin and winced. His wedding ring had cut your cheek. Blood collected at the slit.

“Your grace, come,” Lord Rumlow muttered, pulling you back. “(Y/N).” Natasha let go of James’s hand and rushed over to your side. You allowed Brock to pull you away and lead you out of the party, your friend beside you.

You couldn’t hold it together. As soon as the doors slammed shut, leaving you alone with the two, you let out a sob. Natasha wrapped her arms around you and ran her fingers through your hair, trying to calm you.

“We should go to your chambers.” Lord Rumlow muttered. “No one must see you cry.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I want to go back to my old rooms. I will not share a bed with him. Not tonight. Never again.” You looked over at Brock. He felt sorry for you. He truly did. “Tell Lord Pierce that I will take his offer.”

The promise of safety and sanctuary in Wakanda had interested you before. It was your very plan when you initially ran away from York. But you did have a reason to stay by your husband. A good reason. But now it was the very reason you needed to leave.

Your hand grazed over your stomach. There was no bump, not yet, but you knew – the midwife confirmed it. The life growing inside of you needed to be protected from all harm, but the greatest threat seemed to be the man you married. The monster truly bearing his fangs to you for the first time.

And if you or your baby had any chance at survival in this court, you needed to leave it.

[ssscentral]

Mine

Summary: Is it a dream? A nightmare? Just a figment of my imagination. Or is it something more?

WIP - Masterlist - Members

Pairing : Namjoon x Reader || Established Relationship

Genre : Horror, Demon!AU

Warnings : Character death, brief gore at the end, it be scary

WC : 2.6k

Member : Kas || @voiceswithoutlips​ 

A/N : This is the fourth and last installation in the “Hell of a Ride” series. All four parts have the same prompt, but the authors have interpreted it in their own way. This is a horror fic, like it’s scary, there’s no fluff or smut. Thank you @taegularities​ and @heejinnien​ for being awesome betas and for all your feedback <3 And a special thanks to @eternalseokjin​ for helping out <3 I hope you guys enjoy it!!

Sunday

I wished Namjoon and I could go on a long vacation somewhere. I barely saw him since he had started working at night. He seemed so distracted these days - his company had just landed a big project, so he had to work overtime. Yesterday I came home from work and he was just leaving for his office. He gave me a quick peck on the lips, and then he was gone. That’s all the action I’ve gotten since the Halloween fiasco, to say that we went wild would be an understatement. 

We had attended a friend’s Halloween party. I had dressed as a slutty demon and Namjoon had gone as a priest. My red dress had been so short, it barely covered anything. Halfway through the party Namjoon had finally snapped and dragged me back to our apartment. Needless to say, the sex was incredible. He had quite gotten into his role and incoherently grunted in Latin as things got heated. I had no idea what he was mumbling, but I was too far gone to care. 

That was a month ago. Unfortunately, after that I’d barely seen my boyfriend in the house, or anywhere else for that matter. 

Monday

I could barely sleep last night. I went to bed after a lonely dinner. I’ll admit to being a little tipsy after all that wine but in my defense, I missed my boyfriend. As soon as the lights turned off, I heard this scratching noise coming from the walls. I tried to ignore it, I really did, but the thought of rats running around in my apartment brought goosebumps on my skin. Our building was really old and the landlord never really did any TLC, one of the reasons we got this apartment cheap. What if there were raccoons in there? I shivered at the thought. 

After about two hours of that unholy noise, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I got up, turned on the lights and armed myself with a broom. I lightly tapped the broom on the wall, maybe the noise would scare them into leaving. After a few more taps the scratching stopped, thank Lord for that. I didn’t want to go sleep in the living room or call our shady landlord. 

I glanced at the clock when I went back to bed. It was almost six in the morning. How the hell did that happen? I remember waking up at midnight. Did I fall asleep? Somehow I’d lost a few hours. I bet it was the exhaustion and stress taking over my wine addled brain. 

Tuesday

We had this really romantic dinner planned at our favorite restaurant. Namjoon said he’d pick me up from work and I was so excited for it, but  he called at the last minute to cancel. His boss had called him in early to work on some presentation. It is safe to say I was extremely upset, and rightly so. I’d barely seen my boyfriend for a month, even texting him was getting annoying. I’d ask him something and by the time he replied I’d already be fast asleep. One dinner, was that too much to ask for?

I couldn’t help but feel disgruntled at how things turned out. Even though I knew Namjoon missed me just as much as I missed him, I couldn’t help but feel unwanted. It was illogical and petty, and the moment the thought crossed my mind I felt guilty. He worked so hard and here I was bitching about him. 

Dinner was a sad affair, I was too upset to cook anything, so I ordered some chicken and drowned my sorrows in beer. I was about to fall asleep when I heard a light knocking on the door. I thought maybe Namjoon was back early, my sleep addled brain didn’t wonder why he’d knock when he knew the door code. I opened the door with excitement, only to be disappointed at the empty space in front of me. There was no one at the door. Either someone played a prank on me at this unholy hour or I missed my boyfriend so much that I imagined the knock, either way, it was disheartening.

I went back to bed in hopes of a quiet night. I hadn’t slept properly for two days. To say that I was exhausted would be an understatement. Sleep deprivation coupled with being a kindergarten teacher who had to run around all day after toddlers was taking its toll on my body. 

Another knock came, but this time it sounded much closer. I squinted my eyes at the darkness - was I imagining things again? Heavy curtains covered the bedroom window. I could barely see anything in the room. Was I so lonely that I was hearing phantom noises now? 

I turned on the lamp after a third knock. It came from the left wall. Rats don’t know how to knock, do they? I got up from the bed with a shiver. The bedroom was cold, I could see my breath in front of me. I gingerly touched the wall, it was just a wall, what did I expect? This time I could feel the vibrations when the knock came again, much louder. I ran back to bed, dread settling in my bones. What if there was some homeless person behind it? It was an irrational thought, I knew that, but I couldn’t help the fear. 

I tried to call Namjoon but it only went to voicemail. And what would I even tell him? That there was someone inside our bedroom wall? The whole situation seemed ridiculous but at the same time the knocking only got louder. I huddled in my blanket waiting for it to stop. The knocking had turned to pounding, the sound reverberating through my skull. Surely our neighbors must’ve heard it? 

Wednesday

I called the landlord and insisted that he should check for rats, but he said there were no rats. I asked the neighbors about the sounds; nobody had heard anything, not a single scratch or a squeak. I was losing my mind. Namjoon looked so concerned when he came home this morning. I looked like a crazy woman, red eyes, disheveled hair, don't even get me started on the eyebags. He insisted that I go see a doctor, maybe a therapist. The stress was getting to me. I was so desperate for sleep, but all I could do was get ready for work. 

The day was a blur - the only thing I properly remember was almost screaming at a five year old for showing me his drawing of a rainbow. I was going crazy. I stared at the empty bed, dreading to fall asleep. I prayed to every deity in existence for sleep. I was sure that the noise from last night had been stress induced and after a good night’s sleep everything would be okay. 

Someone was speaking. Was Namjoon back? I glanced at the clock, it was midnight. I reluctantly shuffled out of the blankets and turned on the light. The room was empty, just another dream then. But as soon as I turned off the light, I heard it again, clear as day, a quiet laugh. It echoed around the room as if it had a life of its own. 

I fought the rising panic in my chest. I was standing in the dark with my hand on the light switch. I desperately wanted to turn on the lights but I was frozen in place, heart pounding. There was someone in the room, someone besides me, someone who wasn’t my boyfriend. 

I felt a cold breath on the back of my neck. Someone was standing right behind me, so close I could feel the cold radiating from their body. A chill ran down my spine. My brain stopped working, all I could think of was how much I didn’t want to die. Was he going to stab me? Strangle me? Maybe he’d torture me just for the fun of it. 

“MINE!” a guttural voice said, laced with such malice that the adrenaline finally kicked in. My fingers acted on their own, turning the lights on. My body whirled around before I could stop it to see the face of this stranger. But there was no one there. The room was empty. 

Thursday

I woke up with a massive headache. I was somehow in my bed, sunlight streaming through the windows. Fear spiked through me as soon as I heard someone walk towards the bedroom door. I was about to scream when Namjoon peaked through the door and said, “Hey baby, want some scrambled eggs?” 

I don’t know what took over me but as soon as I heard his voice I started sobbing. He quickly scooped me up in his arms and tried to soothe me. He was so confused as to why his girlfriend was crying first thing in the morning. Between sobs I told him what had happened, what was still happening - I couldn’t help it. I wanted someone to know, no, I needed someone to know. It felt like I was losing my mind. How could the room be empty?

Namjoon insisted that I take a day off today, but I couldn’t. I needed to get out of that apartment, I couldn’t stay there. I wanted to feel the sun on my skin, I wanted to hear the children’s laughter. My boyfriend was sure that it was just a nightmare. Was it though? I was sure I was wide awake. I had heard his voice, clear as day, mine, that’s what he had said. Mine. 

Namjoon tried to take some time off but his boss wouldn’t let him. He had to go on a business trip. I had assured him that I would call him immediately if anything happened. Maybe it was just a nightmare, maybe there was nothing in the dark. The sleep deprivation, loneliness, and the stress had finally gotten a hold of me. That’s what it was, my brain trying to make sense of my emotions. Nothing else. 

I reluctantly got off the elevator. It was almost midnight, I had stayed out with my friends as long as I could. I was dreading going back to my empty apartment. As soon as I entered,  I swept the living room with my eyes. Everything was in its place. Namjoon was a bit of a neat freak, I didn’t know what I was expecting. I exhaled shakily; I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath. 

I debated whether I should turn off the bedroom lights or not. On one hand, I was an adult and I could just sleep with lights on. On the other, I was an adult and not a six year old who was scared of some imaginary monster.  I had too much pride, so I hesitantly turned off the lights and hopped under the blankets. 

I couldn’t fall asleep, I was too tense. The sound of the refrigerator, the comforting ticking of the clock, every familiar sound had suddenly turned eerie. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt exposed, like someone was watching me, raising the hair on the back of my neck. I debated whether I should open my eyes or just keep them closed. 

I chickened out and opened my eyes, frantically looking around. There was nothing. The bedroom was slightly illuminated and I had purposefully kept the curtains open, just to let some light in. I sighed and burrowed more under the soft fabric, hugging a pillow. Nightmare, that’s all it was, just a nightmare. 

I slowly relaxed, tracing patterns with my eyes on the dull, yellow wallpaper. I’d always hated that wallpaper, it was the color of piss. The pattern on it was irritating, just a bunch of lines that seemed to lead nowhere. The more I looked at it, the more I was vexed. I had half a mind to get up and violently peel it off the wall when I saw it. 

A pair of eyes were looking at me from the heating vent. The vent was located on top of the wall, its cover was open. Even though it was pitch black in that small space, I could clearly see those hostile orbs. Vertical pupils stared at me with such hatred that I couldn’t help but whimper. Every instinct in my body recoiled from terror. I could feel the blood pumping in my veins, my heart painfully pounding in my chest, I’d never felt so alive and so helpless. 

I wanted to run away from those eyes, the staring boring through my skull. I wanted to scream - surely someone would hear me? I wanted to call Namjoon, I wanted to feel safe. But I couldn’t. I had a sinking feeling that if I made any movement, it’d come out and jump on me. So I just laid there, barely breathing, perfectly still, like a dead body. 

It laughed. A horrible grating laugh that rang through the room. It touched my skin and I felt an intense pain, like a thousand tiny cuts. It was such a repulsive sound that I had to force myself from flinching. My tiniest movement could set it off. I didn’t know how I knew that, I didn’t know if it was even logical but at that moment, all I could think of was those eyes, dripping with venom. 

Mine. It growled. It kept saying that over and over again, sometimes it was soft, like a baby’s whisper, sometimes it was louder than thunder. The sound was in the room but at the same time it was in my head, like an airpod had fallen through my ear and landed in my skull. It was everywhere. 

Friday

I woke up groggy. My body felt like someone had put it through a blender, my head throbbing in pain. I could barely open my eyes, everything hurt. I didn’t remember much about last night, the only thing I could recall was being extremely afraid. I reached for my phone and somehow, through trial and error, dialed my boss to call in sick. I was so exhausted and as soon as I mumbled my apologies, I lost consciousness. 

My eyes opened to a dark room. I sighed when I felt a body press against my back. Namjoon was back, everything was going to be okay. I rolled around and buried my face in his neck. I’d never felt so safe. I inhaled deeply, he smelled so good, like orange blossoms. When did he change his cologne?

He put his hands around me, clutching me to his chest. I had missed him so much, I gripped his shirt. When did he start wearing a shirt to bed? His arms caged me to him tightly. 

“Joonie, too much,” I whined when he squeezed so hard I couldn’t breathe. 

“MINE,” he growled. 

Saturday

The smell hit him before he could see inside the room, metallic, like the smell in a butcher shop. Detective Jung almost lost his breakfast when he saw the crime scene. The ugly yellow wallpaper was covered in blood. It had seeped through the blankets and the mattress. Every color was distorted by red. There was a pile of undistinguishable body parts on the bed. The soft carpet made squelching sounds as the forensic team moved around the room.

Detective Jung left the apartment in a hurry, a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead. He would question the suspects first - to him, everyone who wasn’t the victim was a suspect. It was better than going back inside and putting together the puzzle that once used to be a human being. 

Kim Namjoon was sobbing in a corner, the victim’s boyfriend. He was the one who had called the police after coming home from a business trip. He was in shock, he could barely comprehend anything that was happening around him. Detective Jung tried to talk to him with no success, he’d just have to wait.

“What happened?” a melodic voice asked.

“Who are you?” 

“Park Jimin, I moved here a month ago.”