#i feel bad for the muses who are like 'all women deserve flowers on their birthday'

[cagesings]

i’ve  ramble  about  jo’s  reluctance  towards  flowers  before  but  to  clarify,  don’t  give  her  flowers  because  being  given  them  (  or  gifts  in  general  at  times  )  reminds  her  of  turpin,  who  commonly  used  gifts  in  an  effort  to  ‘persuade’  her/in  his  efforts  to  groom  her.  this  is  especially  true  for  roses,  since  that  was  the  flower  she  was  most  often  given.  however,  she  has  no  problem  with  flowers  just  existing  outside.  just  don’t  try  to  give  her any  and  she  probably  won’t  touch  them.

[lonely-lost-soul]

Under The Floorboards (Pt. VIII)

(Technoblade x Reader) First Part: Pt. 1 Latest: Pt.VX

(Feel free to play this while listening to this chapter! Full credit to @Alexx-Kun on Wattpad for suggesting this gorgeous song)

https://youtu.be/kCV4JUqGr64

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Day 1: Forgiveness

Step one you needed to find a venue, you had assigned Ranboo as your honorary maid of honor. The young boy was just as thrilled as he was confused, did you not have any other friends? You were Technoblade’s perfect match if that was the case. Ranboo had no problem voicing that to you and you pouted at him, you argued that everyone who lived with Techno was antisocial. He reluctantly agreed and you smiled proudly, he rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder with his hand. You laughed, glad you were sitting down, or else you would’ve for sure fallen. Technoblade and you had decided to split the jobs for the wedding between the both of you. You were in charge of the invitations and flowers, basically anything to do with decorating and interacting with other humans. Technoblade meanwhile was in charge of the venue and the official rings, it’s not that you didn’t trust him with more duties it was more that he didn’t trust himself. That and he also believed that you both could just get married in the woods. You at least wanted a small wedding with a few people you cared about, you rubbed your pointer finger and thumb together with a frown.

    “You alright?”

     “Just thinking about the invitations. Who will come...stuff like that.” Ranboo glanced over at the minuscule stack of letters by the table, it was clearly small, but Ranboo hand wrote them for you in swirl print. They better show up, Ranboo would be pissed if they didn’t, he put a lot of work into those invites.

    “They’ll come.” He nodded his head picking them up with his claws, one was for Tommy, another was for Ghostbur, and Ranboo also suggested an invite for Captain Puffy he figured the both of you would get along considering you both had a habit for adopting misfits. You also needed a female friend. “We can deliver them and search for flowers, then tomorrow we can search for a dress for you that sounds okay right?”

    “For someone with such a bad memory, you’re surprisingly good at planning,” You watched the boy preen at your compliment.

     “Thank you, I also figured we can use the stasis chamber so you only have to walk one way with your ankle.”

     “Smart boy.”

    “Why thank you,” Ranboo smiled proudly over at you reaching out his hand for you to take. You grabbed it and he pulled you to his feet, he kept his hand interlocked with yours, it was minuscule in comparison to the half enderman’s. “Ready?”

     “Ready.”

Slowly but surely the two of you made your way over to the nether portal and into the once-great country. Ranboo placed his hand on your lower back and helped guide you through the rubble of the city. He knew much better than you did where everyone resided, even if you didn’t meet them face to face you’d make a chest and drop it off. Ironically the first person you ran into was the woman Ranboo insisted you meet, Captain Puffy. She’s gorgeous, was your first thought, she was some form of a sheep hybrid dressed like a pirate, two of your favorite things, sorry Technoblade you might’ve met your new wife. You talked with her well into the afternoon, she was just so easy to talk to,

    “Can I just say I feel like I’ve known you forever,” She gushed, taking your hands within her own and squeezing fondly. “I’m so happy Ranboo has found someone to watch out for him,” Ranboo flushed in response but didn’t argue against Puffy’s words which warmed your heart.

     “I’m happy too. I just want to help these kids in whatever way I can,” You smiled a little forlornly thinking once again of the obnoxious blonde. “They just don’t deserve all the shit they have to deal with, they’re kids you know? They should be living their lives.”

    “Yeah keep talking like I’m not here,” Ranboo mused over your shoulder which caused you to laugh with a shake of your head, “no need to stop please continue.” Puffy smiled at the both of you,

     “She’s right though Ranboo. You should be out causing mischief or getting into trouble, not fighting in a never-ending war.”

    “Oof getting into trouble? No thank you, I just wanna tend to my pets and go on adventures with my friends.”

     “You’ll get to do that I promise. Once my ankles healed we’ll go woodland mansion hunting, I’ve been to a few in my time. They’re a lot of fun.”

     “Really?”

     “Yeah of course!” You beamed and Ranboo smiled right back at you, he brought his journal out of his bag and quickly scribbled something down in it. In the end, Puffy ended up accepting the invitation with a blinding smile,

     “You’re going to be a gorgeous bride. Could I bring my girlfriend Niki? You’ll love her!”

     “I don’t see why not. I can���t wait to meet her!” You assumed Technoblade wouldn’t mind one more person, especially because he’s never mentioned Niki which was a good thing in your eyes. Usually, if Technoblade talked about you, it was because he wasn’t a fan. You all said your goodbyes, you felt warm inside you couldn’t believe you were about to have TWO friends who are girls.

     “Soooooo?”

     “I love her.”

     “Told you so,” Ranboo smirked. He was proud of himself for forcing someone else to socialize so he didn’t have to. Ranboo was relieved that list of people to invite wasn’t long; considering Technoblade had more enemies than friends. The only thing that rubbed him the wrong way was he didn’t even know that you had invited Tommy in the first place.

So if Tommy did show up, your wedding might be a bloodbath.

You and Ranboo stood outside of Tommy’s house, he glanced down at you and watched your hands clench the envelope. He brought his hands over yours and rubbed them gently, you looked up at him with wide eyes.

     “Deep breath and relax okay? He’s Tommy so I won’t say he won’t flip out at you, but I can say you’re a wonderful friend, you’ll be fine.”

     “I can’t believe Mr. Panic Room is telling me to relax.” You let out a nervous laugh, he made an offended face.

     “Ya know what, never helping you again. You can walk home.”

     “Ranboo it was a joke!”

     “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you stuck your tongue out and headed up to Tommy’s door and knocked. You already knew Tommy might not even be home, the boy was a wanderer by nature. Yet, much to your surprise, the door opened with a loud BANG, and in the doorway stood Tommy looking better than you’ve seen him in all the time he spent with you and Technoblade.

     “Hi, Tommy.”

     “(Y/N)?” He blinked looking surprised before he steeled his face, “What’re you doing here wench!” Tommy pointed an accusatory finger at you and you raised an eyebrow,

Wench?

That wasn’t going to fly.

    “Try again.”

Tommy sputtered as you narrowed his eyes accusingly, his eyes trailed down to the netherite sword at your side. His entire demeanor changed when he spotted it at your side,

     “(Y/N)! My friend! Good to see you! How’ve you been? Good? Good!” The boy rambled wrapping an arm around your shoulder with a big smile, there’s the Tommy you remembered. “I’m sure you’re doing good fo’ sho’! Now what do, I owe this pleasure women!”

    “I wanted to invite you to Technoblade and I’s wedding,” Your voice was soft and hesitant, holding out the invitation out to him. The teenager blinked a few times before taking it from your hands, he flipped it over confusion was etched deep on his brow.

    “You’re getting married? To Technoblade? He’s going to have a wife and I’m not?”

You blinked a few times trying to process what Tommy said, was he more mad at the fact that Technoblade was getting married in the first place? “Well yeah, considering I’m his fiance and all…”

    “That motherfucker! He gets to have a wife! I want a wife! (Y/N) acquire me a wife!”

You let out howling laughter at his response, tossing your arms around the boy, he went silent and a confused look came across his face. His ears turned red as he looked over at Ranboo with a face that screamed help me, Ranboo simply looked away holding up a prominent middle finger at the boy. “Okay, okay! Enough hugs,” Tommy ranted shoving you away from him with a huff, “I don’t know what’s so funny about me needing a wife.”

    “You’ll find a wife eventually,” You couldn’t help but smile as he frowned down at you. “So? Can you make it?” Voice quiet as you looked up at him, the nervousness from before creeping back into your body, he chewed on his bottom lip while looking at you. Tommy wasn’t about to be soft while Ranboo was standing less than a foot away so he did the next best thing which was whacking you on top of the head.

    “I-well-...” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck looking nervous for the first time in his life, “I can’t.” He saw your face fall and he grabbed your shoulders tightly, “Not because I don’t want to! I… I guess you’re not TERRIBLE.” He admitted begrudgingly, “Tubbo and I...we have some unfinished business we need to deal with before things get any worse for people.”

     “I don’t know what you mean Tommy.” You suddenly grew very concerned, “You don’t have to hold the entire world on your shoulders.”

     “Yeah, I do,” Tommy responded with enough seriousness to shake you to your core, you didn’t know about his past with the discs fully, but you knew enough to know this situation was about that. “Just know I’m happy for you, seriously I am,” He gave you a sad smile.

    “Stay safe Tommy. Please don’t be stupid.”

     “I’m never stupid you BITCH!”

     “Call me a bitch again you BRAT!”

     “MAKE ME!”

You frowned, hitting him in the side so he would double over, while he gripped his stomach you pulled him into a headlock and began digging your knuckles into his skull. “Apologize!”

     “NEVER!”

Ranboo looked sheepish as he stared at the scene, his shoulders slumping forward. “(Y/N) we have a schedule-” Reluctantly you released Tommy and he stumbled back, he huffed dusting off his shirt. You smiled slightly over at the boy,

     “See you soon raccoon boy,” you gave him a proud salute.

     “Hasta La Vista Miss Blade,” Tommy responded, saluting you right back.

You turned away from the boy and headed back over to Ranboo’s side, “You ready?” You nodded in response with a little smile on your lips. “Good. Next, up is Ghostbur right? We need to find him.”

     “If we can locate Friend we can locate him.”

It took a while, but eventually, you and Ranboo found Ghostbur and Friend wandering around a forest nearby the crater. Immediately spotting you a bright smile spread across the ghost’s face, “(Y/N)!” He shouted, throwing his hand in the air with a wave, “How’re you doing darling!”

    “I’m good Ghostbur! Have you met Ranboo?”

     “Briefly. Nice to see you again!”

     “Ugh, ditto,” Ranboo responded with a shy smile shuffling a little behind you.

You smiled and pulled an envelope out from your bag, you held it out to him.

     “You and Friend good sir, are invited to Technoblade and I’s wedding.” He gasped loudly, eyes lighting up with pure and utter joy,

     “Technoblade getting married! Oh my god, that’s phenomenal! You’re going to make the most beautiful bride,” he praised excitedly as your face turned red at the compliments, “Gosh, you two are so lovely together, I wouldn’t miss this for the world! Do you have a dress? You have to show me!”

You rubbed the back of your head, rocking on your heels, “Well...about that.”

     “Do not tell me you don’t have a DRESS?” He practically yelled crossing his arms, “I’m disappointed in you!”

      “It’s in two days Ghostbur! I had no time! I’ll make do with something. I’m sure I have an old dress somewhere-”

     “UNACCEPTABLE!” He grabbed at your hands, “I’m getting you a dress. I’ll meet you at Technoblade’s tomorrow, just hold on!” Ghostbur ran his hand through Friend’s wool with a smile, “You’re going to be one of the most gorgeous brides, only second to Sally.”

     “Well I’m honored, I’ll see you then.” You smiled adoringly at the little ghost as he floated off his sheep buddy by his side.

    “Do you think he’s getting you a dress?”

     “I have no idea,” You responded with a shrug, “It’s sweet he’s willing to put in the effort though.”

      “Or creepy.”

     “It’s sweet you jerk,” You nudged him with your arm Ranboo smiled,

    “I’m just glad it’s off our to-do list for tomorrow.”

     “True that means you can sleep in,” You teased as his multicolored eyes lit up,

    “Hell yeah.”

~~~

Day 2: Ghostbur’s Gift

You woke up to sleepy kisses and tender touches, one of the loveliest ways to wake up if you might add.

    “Morning big guy,” You cooed fondly as he made a soft purr-like sound in his throat. You turned over to face him and he immediately pressed a kiss to your lips. The voices couldn’t help but point out how cute you looked in the morning.

    “Helloooo...How’s your ankle?” He asked his thumb brushing against your cheek, closing your eyes you let out a soft,

    “Much better.”

    “Good, I heard from Ranboo Ghostbur’s supposedly stopping by today. Any particular reason?”

     “He says he has a dress I can wear for tomorrow.”

    “How does he have a dress exactly?”

    “No idea, but I’m going with it.”

     “If you’re sure. Just don’t look bad.” You frowned and bonked him on the side of his head, “it was a joke!”

     “It better be a joke or I’m leaving your ass. I look good in everything so fuck off.” You hissed as Technoblade groaned,

     “Heard you loud and clear Princess. Scouts honor, you’re the most beautiful girl to me you know that.”

    “I do. Just don’t joke around like that, makes me feel bad okay?”

He frowned a little and moved to hover over you, his hair framed his face and fell past his shoulders. It tickled your cheeks and you ran your hands through it meeting anything but his eyes suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Technoblade kissed the tip of your nose,

     “Hey, Princess look at me.”

Turning your head towards his voice, the two of you locked eyes, a sense of calm washed over you, the only thing in his eyes was pure, unadulterated love.

     “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me. No matter what I’m always going to think that you are, you could grow a third eye and I’d still want to marry you tomorrow. I’m sorry I made you feel bad, it was a joke but I won’t make it again. I swear.” You felt your eyes water as you tossed your arms around his neck, the sudden movement caused him to fall forward crushing you beneath him.

    “I love you too bubba. Thank you for listening to me.”

     “That’s part of my job idiot.”

You smiled against his neck and held him tighter, Technoblade reciprocated the hug and decided the both of you could stay in bed just a little while longer. The two of you shared soft kisses, every once in a while Technoblade would reinforce how precious you were to him, eventually, it all got to be too much and you shoved your hands in his face.

     “Enough is enough! I’m embarrassed now.” Technoblade laughed at your flustered expression and pressed a fond kiss to your lips, obviously you kissed him back, your fingers threading through his hair.

      “Princess…” He let out a pleased sound in the back of his throat, “you’re making it hard to get out of bed. I still have some stuff set up for tomorrow and you gotta look out for Wilbur.”

     “Or hear me out. You can stay in bed with me all day, and keep giving me kisses,” You pressed your lips to his own before whispering in his ear, “Anywhere you’d like.” You nipped teasingly at his earlobe and suddenly felt the heat radiating off his face. As you expected his face was a deep red color and you felt his head fall against your shoulder,

    “You’re going to kill me.” You only laughed in response, finally pulling away from him you swung your feet over the side of the bed, “you can’t just say that and walk away.” He whined loudly with a little pout on his lips, “Especially since I won’t see you until the wedding.”

     “Suck it up buttercup,” You stuck your tongue out at the man “I’ll just be at Ranboo’s if something goes wrong I’ll be within reach.” He reached his hand up and threaded his fingers through your hair, you sighed pleasantly at the physical touch, “I love you.”

      “Love you too, see you tomorrow.” You gave him one last fleeting kiss before standing up leaving the warmth of the covers and your half-naked fiance behind much to your dismay. You tossed one of Technoblade’s old shirts over your head, it came down past your knees and Technoblade let out a happy sigh from behind you. You let out a little laugh, looking at him over your shoulder his eyes were half-lidded as he stared at your now bare legs. “Hold on don’t change just yet I wanna stare a little bit longer.”

     “Perv.” You snickered ignoring his wishes and sliding on a pair of pants, afterward, you tied a corset around your waist. He responded with a ‘heh?’ of disagreement before he groaned loudly and flopped over in the bed, “see you soon Bubbas.” You leaned over and pecked his forehead before sliding down the ladder and out of the house. Ironically your timing was perfect as you greeted Ranboo right outside Technoblades cabin, “Good morning!”

     “Morning, you and Techno sleep okay?” You nodded with a bright smile, “Good Wilbur should be stopping by any minute now by the way. He sent me a note earlier this morning that said he’d be around this time.”

     “Works for me, wanna wait by your house?”

     “You just wanna pet my bunny,” You smirked and laughed,

     “Can you blame me?”

     “I suppose not. Whatever makes you happy.” Ranboo sighed but there wasn’t any real defeat in his tone, “Let’s go.” Ranboo and you walked a little ways away to his humble little shack so you could play with Ranbun. You were set up in Ranbun’s pen holding him in your arms and cooing softly at him, Ranboo joined you after a few moments of jealous staring. The two of you spent the next hour playing with his bunny and feeding him lots of treats, he was one happy bunny. Ranboo was the first person to see Ghostbur coming through the trees, a large box in hand, had he actually managed to get you a dress?

     “(Y/N)! Ranboo!” Ghostbur shouted excitedly floating over to the both of you, “I managed to find the dress I promised you! So long as it fits of course.” Your jaw fell open as you stumbled out of Ranbun’s pen,

     “How the hell did you manage to find me a wedding dress?”

     “Oh! It was Sally’s.” A fond smile spread across the ghost’s face, both you and Ranboo looked at one another brows furrowed. Ranboo put a hand to the side of his face and whispered loudly to you,

     “I thought Sally was a fish.”

You whispered back in the exact same manner,

    “Me too, but at this point, I’m too afraid to ask for clarification.”

Ranboo nodded seriously and stood back up to his full height, you stepped forward and took the box from the hands of the ghost he stared at it longingly like he was afraid to let it go. You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment before speaking up,

     “Are you sure?” Your voice was barely above a whisper but it was still as tender as ever, the ghost of Wilbur snapped his eyes up to meet yours. He seemed to be reading the expression in your eyes before smiling almost fondly, handing the box over to you officially. He pulled out a small patch of blue and fumbled it around in his hands, like a nervous tic,

    “I’m positive love. I trust you to take good care of it and Sally would want you to have it, she was wonderful like that. Just please take good care of it.”

    “I’ll protect it with my life. I promise you.”

     “I know you will, you’re going to be a beautiful bride, my dear.” He somehow took your hands and pressed a faint kiss to them, “Go on then try it on.” Your eyes sparkled in delight and he turned to Ranboo,

     “Well go on, we’ll still be here to judge you immensely.”

    “Oh fuck off.” You laughed heading into his shack to change, you managed to find an area not completely out in the open. The only nerve-wracking thing was you didn’t have a mirror so you had to pray you looked alright and that Raboo and Ghostbur wouldn’t lie to you. You opened the box and pulled the dress out, Sally really knew how to pick a damn good dress; the dress was stunning, you definitely wouldn’t do it justice. The dress fell past your feet and pooled a little ways behind you, it was more of an off-white creme color, and was made of soft lace. It was sleeveless so the winter wind gave you a chill, you hoped Technoblade picked a place that wasn’t freezing cold. You took a breath to hype yourself up and stepped out of the shack, the dress trailing behind you, you had left the veil in the box figuring you didn’t need it right now. The first person to spot you was Ghostbur, who gasped loudly bringing his hands up to his face after spotting you. You shrunk in on yourself a little bit and your cheeks turned a light pink in response, “That’s a good expression I hope.” You meekly laughed as Ranboo turned around and let out a shaky break of surprise. He reached forward with his claws to touch the soft fabric,

     “It’s perfect! Fits like a glove.” Wilbur hummed happily floating around you, “I was right by the way, you look beautiful. Techno’s going to pass out.”

    “Shut up I can’t look that good.”

    “You do though!” Ranboo shouted excitedly, “It suits you perfectly not that I had any doubts or anything.” He jumped a little on the balls of his feet, he pulled out his memory book quickly scribbling something down inside it, as he did so he muttered “I’m the best honorary maid of honor ever.”

     “You definitely are.” You praised the halfling who only seemed to grow more excited at the praise, Ghostbur cleared his throat, was he looking for a compliment too? “Ghostbur you’re a lifesaver, if it wasn’t for you I’d be walking down the aisle in Netherite. Thank you.” Ghostbur seemed to preen a little as he smiled proudly,

    “I know. I’m pretty great aren’t I? I basically saved the day.”

    “You certainly are.”

    “Oh! Just return the dress the next time I see you after the wedding okay?”

     “I will have no fear, it’s in safe hands.” The ghost nodded, “I can’t wait to see it in action tomorrow.”

     “Me too,” you sighed lovingly, doing a little twirl in the dress you could only imagine the look that would appear on Technoblade’s face when he saw you.

You hoped the voices would approve because Technoblade was absolutely going to short circuit and go feral, you could hardly wait.

Day 3: The Wedding Day

The night before the wedding Technoblade couldn’t sleep his body was buzzing with nerves, which was a foreign feeling to him. He was worried about you not sleeping by his side, this was the first time since you’ve officially gotten together that you weren’t there. He didn’t realize how much he missed your presence and warmth, he pulled the pillow you usually used close to his chest. He felt like a love-struck teenager cuddling the pillow of his missing girlfriend because that’s basically what he was, except instead of a girlfriend it was his fiance. The voices didn’t help his longing either; they were roaring in his head asking where you were and when you would come back.

Where’s (Y/N)? I miss her! Can Ranboo protect her if something goes wrong? What if Dream gets ahold of her in the meantime and you’re up here sleeping? I wanna squeeze her thighs again right now. E. That’s disgusting, stop, don’t sexualize her like that. B U T T. Can I get a big pog for butts? Thighs for the thigh god.

His entire face went a deep scarlet, “What does that even mean guys.” Technoblade let out a loud groan of embarrassment, some of the voices laughed, some others rumbled with anger. “I just want her by my side is all, I miss her. I miss her touch...I don’t know when I became such a sap. I hate that I care about her this much, but god without her I’d be lost.”

SIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMP

     “You shits.”

The morning rolled around and Technoblade woke up as soon as the sun shone through the windows. He fell asleep around three in the morning, tired as shit, bees buzzing around in his stomach.

Today’s the day! Gotta get ready as soon as possible, you’re gonna look so handsome! I bet (Y/N)’s gonna be equally as beautiful! Don’t fuck it up. Celebratory murder spree pog? She’ll think you’re so hot covered in blood. No! E. Normalcy is key!

He shook his head to get rid of the nagging voices rattling around in his head, he knew what he had to do, and listening to the voices wasn’t one of them. Phil was going to come soon and Technoblade had to look presentable so they could head to the venue and Phil could set up some last-minute decorations. Techno would say he felt bad making Phil do most of the work, but he honestly didn’t, especially since he was so inept at romance in the first place. Never one to wear a suit Technoblade decided his best outfit would be his arctic retirement one, a suit would be too constricting. After all, what if it was attacked and he needed to jump into action, Phil had told him that he was absolutely not allowed to bring weapons which he was not happy about at all. Although the man did reassure him that he would be armed and have an extra weapon just in case something was to occur, he guessed that was FINE. With a soft huff, the man stood up from his bed and pulled out his outfit, the soft blue made him yearn for the days before they found Tommy living under the house. In a way wearing this symbolized a time in their relationship before he was forced into bloodshed once again, plus he knew you loved the fuzzier outfit.

Putting on everything, he brought the fur cape around his shoulders, his crown glittering on his head in the light. He looked regal, he would say he looked like a king but he hated all forms of government so he just looked like his usual badass self. In his closet sat his wedding gift to you, it was a gold tiara that matched his crown in his own way finally solidifying the both of you as a blood god duo.

Turning away from the tiara he grabbed a hairbrush to tame his wild hair, he wanted to do something different with it. It spilled around his back and down to his waist, he managed to tame the frizz with some product that he ‘borrowed’ from you. In the end, he had two small braids framing his face, he grabbed both of them and pinned them together on the back of his head. A half-up half-down look almost made him look like a Viking, he liked it. Technoblade placed gold earrings along with his ears and added some gold accents on his wrists and fingers, none overshading his engagement ring.

His ears twitched hearing the door open downstairs, Phil was here, it was time.

     “Hellooo!” Technoblade called from upstairs and Phil responded with a cheerful,

    “Hey mate!”

As Technoblade descended the ladder, Phil smiled fondly at his old friend, he immediately adjusted the cape on his shoulders. Technoblade huffed a small laugh, “Was that really necessary?”

     “Obviously. I’m the married one, I know what I’m doing.” He shot back snickering, “You ready to go?”

     “As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

    “I’m proud of you man,” Phil responded with a fatherly smile “You’re never going to forget today. It’ll be the best of your life.”

    “Ehhhh I don’t know about that. Spawning those Withers and blowing up a country really gave me a rush.”

     “Oh fuck off,” Phil howled with laughter while shoving the snickering piglin. “This’ll be an entirely new feeling, I would know.” His wings puffed out happily remembering his marriage fondly,

     “Didn’t you marry a fridge?”

    “You’re literally the worst.”

Technoblade smirked just happy he steered the conversation away from any of that mushy crap. He was going to get enough of that as it is in a few hours, oh look at that the bees are back. Phil gave him a pat on the back and the two of them left the house side by side. The spot Technoblade picked out for the wedding was one both of you would like, a snowy taiga, it was warm enough that you wouldn’t freeze to death but still had the beautiful powdery snow that Tecnhoblade loved. Phil had done an amazing job of setting everything up, on the arch, there were beautiful blue flowers interspersed with white roses (both of which you picked out prior), they stood out beautifully against the wooden trellises. There was a carved stone pathway leading the way up to the arch and a few wooden benches decorated with light blue silk so whomever (Y/N) invited could sit down. He knew most of them would only be there for her, he was okay with that, all he needed was Phil and Ranboo and he was content. Next to each booth was a stone pillar, on top of them sat a bouquet of white and blue roses.

     “You really outdid yourself, thank you.” Technoblade whistled,

     “You know I’d do anything for you mate. Glad I could provide, I do have one last little decoration though.” Phil mused reaching into his bag he pulled out a small gold bell similar to the one he had inside his house. He placed the bell above the arch so it would chime softly when the wind blew against its side. Technoblade smiled fondly at the sight and wrapped his arm around Phil’s shoulder.

     “I love it. (Y/N)’s gonna love it too.”

     “Thanks, man.” Phil said softly bumping against the blade, “Do you know who’s going to show up by the way?”

    “Absolutely no idea.”

     “Guess we’re gonna find out, look.” Technoblade stepped away from Phil and looked in the direction of his friend, cresting over the hill seemed to be two girls, Technoblade was immediately confused because he didn’t realize you had friends who were women. Phil let out a small laugh, “Oh it’s Niki and Puffy, Ranboo must’ve introduced (Y/N) to them.” Technoblade only nodded his lips twitching into a frown, new people...gross.

     “Hi, Phil! Technoblade!” Puffy chirped brightly, her hand intertwined with Niki’s tightly, “Congratulations to you Mr.” She lightly tapped Technoblade in the chest he blinked in surprise,

     “Thank you?”

     “I may have just met (Y/N), but just know if you do ANYTHING to hurt her at all I will slaughter you.”

     “Darling please…” Niki sheepishly smiled, “you realize you’re threatening Technoblade right? Not the best idea.”

    “It’s alright. I admire your gumption,” Technoblade gave the both of them a thumbs up in response, “I’m glad (Y/N) has someone else like that looking out for her. But, just so you know. The same to you.” He eyed the both of them with a sharp look in his eyes, Puffy let out a nervous laugh and Niki narrowed her eyes warily.

     “That’s fair.”

     “Anyway!” Phil cleared his throat, “let's not ruin this before it even starts.” He led the two girls over to their seats with a small smile, “(Y/N) will be super happy to see you both by the way. Thank you for coming.”

      “Of course, (Y/N) and I are soulmates after all.” Puffy swooned happily as Niki giggled fondly at her antics, “Technoblade better watch out. Niki and I will steal her heart.”

    “I’ll be sure to warn him,” He snickered, glancing over at his friend who was sniffing at the flowers in the pots. “If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask, Wilbur should be here soon then (Y/N) and Ranboo will come and it’ll start.”

    “Sounds good,” Niki hummed playing with the sleeves of her blue dress “I’m super excited to meet her.”

While Puffy reassured her that she would, Phil noticed his son floating over to the area. “Hello, Phil!” The ghost’s eyes lit up seeing all of them, “Oh wow everything is so beautiful!”

    “Thanks, Ghostbur.” Technoblade hummed walking over to Phil and the ghost,

     “I’m proud of you too Mr. Engaged!” He snickered as Technoblade’s nose scrunched up in distaste, “Who knew the big, scary Technoblade would settle down with a wife, maybe start a family eventually.”

     “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear any of the cringy nonsense that just came out of your mouth; so I can enjoy today in peace.”

    "Boo! I’m just happy for you!” Ghostbur huffed in annoyance, “I was telling (Y/N) yesterday that marrying Sally was the best day of my life! I’m so making fun of you when you get all mushy.”

     “IF I get all mushy, which I won’t.”

    “Sure you won’t man,” Technoblade glared at his friends in frustration if this teasing was going to continue. He was kidnapping (Y/N) himself and getting married to her elsewhere.

     “I do love all the blue though!” The ghost of Wilbur swooned happily at all the flowers, “This just makes the entire day even better!-”

However he didn’t get to continue as Ranboo cleared his throat rather loudly, the enderboy looked dapper as always, a rose was pinned on his lapel, obviously from (Y/N).

     "Ready Techno?” Phil looked over at him, the pigman’s frustration and confidence fell from his face all at once. Even Ghostbur was shocked at the way Technoblade tensed up and fumbled with the soft fluff on his cape, “Techno?”

It’s time. Holy fuck! She’s going to be stunning, he’s going to be a husband! HE’S GOING TO BE A HUSBAND? Oh fuck.

     “Techno mate you alright?”

     "Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Let's do this.” Technoblade took a deep breath walking over to the altar with Phil, Phil was obviously officiating the wedding. He didn’t want anyone else doing it, Ranboo smiled at the two of them as he walked down the aisle throwing little flower petals everywhere before standing on (Y/N)’s side of the altar. He gave him a happy little nod, Technoblade nodded back at him in a sign that he was happy to see him. Music began to flow through the air, Technoblade just knew Wilbur had managed to bring a jukebox, but he didn’t mind it was fitting.

He turned towards the rich sound and for once in his life the voices...stopped.

Technoblade could hear the music perfectly, he heard the chiming of the bell every time the wind blew, everything seemed clear and for all the sounds that were playing around him without the rancorous voices, it all seemed deadly quiet.

The true reason the voices stopped though was because he saw you.

Elegant. Magnificent. Royalty.

The words spun around in his head, because god you looked angelic as you walked towards him. He wished your face wasn’t obscured by a veil, he wanted to see you, to cup your cheeks and pull you into a desperate kiss. He wasn’t worthy to marry you, he was barely worthy to breathe the same air as someone so pure. Technoblade bit down on his tongue rather harshly, for once in his life he wished the voices would speak up so he wouldn’t feel so small in his head.

     “Hi.”

Your silvery voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he drew in a shaky breath and looked at you.

     “Hi,” His voice cracked a little and he flushed all the way up to the tips of his ears. He reached out to squeeze your hands tightly, he felt you squeeze back and he knew that everything was okay. Fuck, he was tearing up a little and he hasn’t even seen your face yet, fuck...Ghostbur was right. He was a mushy gross mess, you giggled a little at his flustered expression.

     “You look handsome,” You whispered softly tilting your head to the side.

     “You’re Aphrodite herself.”

    “Take it back. Take it back right now.” The teasing tone your voice took made him relax considerably, you were still you. His lovely almost wife who’d he got to spend the rest of his life with, it was perfect, you were perfect.

    “You know I do, even if it kills me to retract the statement.” His hand reached forward and gently pushed the veil back over your head.

Fuck.

It took all his strength not to kiss you senseless. Phil cleared his throat and smiled at the small crowd of people who came to the wedding, Puffy seemed to already be emotional, Niki rubbing her back with gentle circles. The both of you barely paid any attention to the introductions and the little details too engrossed in one another to truly listen to anyone that wasn’t each other. They both snapped to attention when Phil spoke their names with a tender smile and their wedding rings were in his hands.

     “Your wedding rings are the outward and visible sign of the inward and invisible bond which already unites you two hearts in love. Groom, place the ring on Bride’s finger and repeat after me….I give you this ring…”

     “I give you this ring.” Technoblade swallowed thickly listening carefully to Phil’s words as you smiled adoringly, the pink spreading across your cheeks was adorable. He shakily slid the diamond ring on your finger,

    “Wear it with love and joy.”

     “Wear it with love and joy.”

     “As this ring has no end, My love is also forever.”

    “As this ring has no end, My love is also forever.”

    “Good job man.” He winked teasingly at Technoblade breaking character to complement his friend, “Bride, place the ring on Groom’s finger and repeat after me….I give you this ring.”

     “I give you this ring.”

     “Wear it with love and joy.”

     “Wear it with love and joy.”

     “As this ring has no end, my love is also forever.”

     “As this ring has no end, my love is also forever.” You breathed softly staring into Technoblade’s eyes and right into his soul. No doubts, only love. Phil continued on,

     “May the wedding rings you exchanged today to remind you always that you are surrounded by enduring love and so now by the power vested in me by...me, it is my honor and delight to declare you husband and wife. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.” You didn’t need to be told twice as you threw your arms around Technoblade’s shoulders smothering him with a kiss. He let out a breathy laugh against them, before kissing you back just as passionately. Technoblade’s hands rested on your lower back and he held you like you were a perfect porcelain doll. “I am pleased to present the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs… ugh Blade! We’ll go with that.” The man laughed as you pulled away from Technoblade to join in his laughter, you pulled Phil into a hug and motioned for Ranboo to join in, both did so, although Ranboo’s was slightly reluctant.

     “Thank you both for everything. My sweet Borealis boys.” You cooed, Phil only laughed and Ranboo’s entire face flushed deeply at the nickname.

     “We love you obviously,” Phil hummed “You don’t need to thank us. Right Ranboo?”

     “Do I really have to say it?”

    “Yes.” Technoblade spoke gruffly, “If you don’t she might cry.”

     “Yeah, Ranboo don’t make me cry on my wedding day.”

     “Oh, Christ...Fine! I love you too…thank you for giving me a home. Caring for me...all of that. You don’t know how much that means to me.” Ranboo looked up at you and you immediately wrapped him in another tight hug, he let out a little whimper and buried his face in your hair.

     “You’ll always be welcome here Ranboo. We’ll always be your home so long as you’ll have us.”

     “Shit,” He laughed a little wetly pulling away from you, “I’ll have to write that down.”

    “You mean you’ll forget it? Rude.” It was Technoblade who chimed in this time and Ranboo flushed in embarrassment once again. He hunched in on himself before sputtering,

     “No, no, no not what I meant! What I mean is like-”

    “Ranboo you’re fine mate.” Phil snickered, reaching up to ruffle his hair, “loosen up a little.”

     “(Y/N)!” You turned towards the shouting of your new friends and your face lit up,

    “Puffy!” The two girls threw their arms around you in a warm hug, even though you didn’t know Niki yet you’re never one to turn down a hug.

Your final conclusion of the night: Niki was absolutely lovely and she and Puffy were relationship goals.

~~~

Candles were littered around the room as you and Technoblade swayed gently to soft music in your bedroom. The both of you were finally alone, and officially married, the first thing Technoblade wanted to do was have the first dance with you. It surprised you that a dance was that important to him, but you came to the conclusion that he just wanted to hold you as close as possible. “I have a gift for you,” Technoblade spoke up rather suddenly and you frowned,

     “We said no gifts.”

     “When have I EVER listened to authority Princess?”

     “Touche,” You snapped your fingers in his direction and he snickered. He pulled away from you and you flopped down on the bed, you watched him walk over to the closet and pull out a medium-sized velvet box. “Bubs what the hell…” You murdered as he placed it into your arms, “please tell me you didn’t go too crazy.”

    “I didn’t. I made it by hand,” Technoblade urged you to open it. You did so pulling off the top, jaw-dropping onto the floor. He knew that reaction was positive and pride swelled in his heart, he knew his girl well. He watched as you lifted the golden tiara out of the box, it was littered with gems that matched his crown, your thumb brushed against them in awe.

     “You made this?”

     “Just for you Princess. Thought you needed something to fit your name.”

     “I’m so in love with you.”

     “Good thing you're my wife then,” he felt his stomach swoop happily and by the way you gently caressed the crown, he knew you felt the same about him. “Put it on Princess I wanna see how it looks on you.” Your face turned red as you did as he asked, his eyes grew half-lidded and he kneeled down in front of you, “Stunning.” He kissed the inside of your wrist, his voice turning gruff, “beautiful.” A kiss was placed on your forearm, “gorgeous,” On your shoulder, “My princess. My good girl.” Technoblade pressed a hot kiss to your neck, you leaned back your breath hitching in your throat.

     “Techno…” You whined softly, “I love you.”

      “Love you more.”

     “Love you most,” He purred, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

~~~

The dogs' rapid barking stirred you from your rest, Technoblade grumbled beside you as you sat up in bed letting the covers fall from your shoulders. The air nipped at your bare skin and you frowned, you couldn’t help but wonder what bothered the dogs so suddenly, “Go back to bed.” Technoblade demanded his hand caressing the small of your back, you leaned back against the warm touch but you couldn’t shake away your worry.

     “I’ll be back in two seconds.” You leaned down to kiss the top of his head, he only hummed in response. Big guy knew you could handle yourself just fine, n’ that’s why you loved him. You slipped on a robe and your slippers before making your way to the dogs, stepping inside you heard quite a few of them whining, they just seemed genuinely bothered. “What’s going on huh guys?” You cooed scratching them behind their ears, sensing your comforting presence they seemed to calm down considerably, “What’s got my fearsome guard puppies so spooked.”

      “That’d probably be me.”

You jumped halfway in the air, whipping around you came face to face with the hollow white mask that Dream commonly wore.

    “Fucking shit Dream what the hell?” You pressed your hand to your heart, your dogs growling lowly all around you. “You scared the shit out of me!”

    “My bad.” He smirked in a way that showed he wasn’t at all sorry, “I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get an invitation to the wedding.”

     “Would you have even shown up?” You raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer to you, Nightmare was at his hip making your bad vibe senses light up like a wildfire. He hummed thoughtfully rubbing his chin,

    “Probably not. But, I decided I’d drop by and give you my congratulations.” He was close enough that you could smell him, he smelled like burning wood and dirt; like a little pissbaby worm.

     “Well thank you,” You wrapped the robe tighter around your body like it suddenly dropped ten degrees. “You can go now-” You started before you were pressed up against the wall, his fearsome blade Nightmare at your throat. The dogs began to bark and howl at the man’s heels but they couldn’t do much without a direct command, but you hoped it would be enough to draw Technoblade out of the house.

     “Clearly Technoblade cares about you much more than I had originally calculated. It’s kind of pathetic if I’m being honest. Someone like you who's so small, so pathetic, could bring Technoblade, the fearsome blood god himself, down like that. Make him soft. We can’t exactly have that now, can we? We need him...How do I say this...a bit feral, unhinged.”

     “You realize you kill me, you can count on him hunting you down and slaughtering you right? I can’t say for sure the ‘favor’ is completely off the table but he’ll half-ass it that’s for sure.” You snarled right back in Dreams face, tempted to spit in it.

    “Oh, I’m not going to kill you, babe.” His voice dripped like honey, its sickly sweet tone made your stomach churn. “But we’re going to get really comfortable with one another, for the time being, you’re under my custody.”

     “What the fuck does that mean you freak-” He hit you on the back of the head with Nightmare, successfully knocking you out. That caused one of the dogs to absolutely lose it, jumping up and tearing off a piece of Dreams bright green hoodie. He snarled at the dog and jolted when he heard Technoblade call for (Y/N), it was close. He quickly messaged his accomplice and was teleported out of the situation, via his own stasis chamber, appearing back in his home base. He smiled wickedly under his mask, as Enderman noises could be heard behind him. He adjusted the girl in his grip, the next few days were going to be a lot of fun.

: )

~~~

Leave your comments below and I hope you enjoyed! Memes and fanart is also always welcome your girl is thirsty for any scrap of content. 

[wishuhadstayed]

It Takes a Village

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: about 3000

Summary: when the Hotchner fam is in need, it’s a good thing to have many helping hands. Part 9 to Begin Again.

Warnings: mentions of blood and pregnancy complications

Author’s Note: I really am sorry for that cliffhanger y’all. 😬 I’m just glad you still love me after being gone for like, a literal year. Shoutout to @agent-laufeyson you’re the best 💜 (PS, please ignore Haley in the below gif, also please picture Hotch in the hospital in casual clothes.) 😌

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

For a moment, Aaron’s whole world stopped turning. A cold, familiar sense of dread settled into his chest at the words, “You all may want to sit down for this.”

“Not again,” he thought. “I can’t do this again, we can’t do this again.”

“God please,” he begged internally, slumping into a chair, “if you’re listening, please don’t take her. We need her.”

Suddenly, the voice of a surgeon cut through the silent room like a knife.

“Sir, your wife lost a significant amount of blood. We had no choice but to perform an emergency c-section. Although your daughter is slightly pre-term, she seems to be in good health. However, we would like to keep her a while for monitoring.”

“And my wife?” He inquires, voice trembling with fear.

“It was touch and go there for a while, but we were able to locate the source of bleeding and get it under control. Your wife is out of surgery. She’s stable, but she is very weak and currently asleep. She will also be hospitalized for recovery. At least a week most likely, maybe longer.”

“Mama’s gonna be okay?” Jack pipes up.

“Yes, she is buddy,” Aaron replies, ruffling his hair. “Thanks to that doctor.”

“Thanks for making my mama feel better.”

“You’re most welcome,” the surgeon replied. “You and your dad can go visit her now. The rest of you will have to wait. She needs her rest. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you doctor,” Aaron says, shaking his hand with a sigh of relief.

“You go Aaron,” Rossi encourages, clapping him on the shoulders before he even had a chance to turn around. “Go see your wife and baby. We’ll wait.”

——————————————————————————

Entering your hospital room, Aaron thought your sleeping face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Sitting on the side of your hospital bed, he grabbed hand as you stirred awake.

“Hello Angel,” he murmurs as you take everything in. “You gave us quite a scare,” he mentions, softly caressing your face.

“The baby,” you whisper, touching his hand.

“Ssssshhhh,” he soothes. “The baby is fine. She’s in the nursery. You just rest okay?”

Instant relief washes over your face. “Jack?”

“I’m right here mama!” he exclaims, scrambling into Aaron’s lap.

“I want to see the baby,” you tell Aaron.

“I know darling, but you really need your rest.”

“I NEED to see her, Aaron.” You plead.

Taking the hint, he begins to rise. “Jack why don’t you stay with mama, while I go talk to the nurse, okay?”

“Okay Daddy,” he agrees, climbing in the bed next to you.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better mama,” Jack says, looking up at you with the sweetest face.

“Me too, baby,” you reply. “Are you ready to meet your sister?”

“Yeah!” he exclaims with a look of excitement. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course you can buddy, as long as you’re careful,” Aaron replies as he re-enters the room. “The nurses are bringing her down.”

A few minutes later a nurse arrives holding a tiny pink blanket. “Who wants to hold her first?” She inquires.

“You should hold her first, Aaron,” you suggest.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he insists. “You’ve been the strongest, bravest mom I know already. You should hold her first.”

As the nurse places the tiny, squirming bundle with her father’s dark hair in your arms, all the stress and chaos of the day seems to just melt away.

As you free a tiny hand from the swaddle so she can grasp your finger, her eyes flutter open.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” you wonder aloud.

“Absolutely lovely,” Aaron muses, draping his arm around your shoulders. “Just like her mother.”

——————————————————————————

Meanwhile, cooped up in the waiting area, the BAU team began to grow restless.

“Maybe we should get out of the hospital and go shopping while we wait,” Garcia suggests. “I think Y/N deserves all the gifts and pretty things today.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” JJ questions.

“TARGET RUN!” all three women exclaim in unison.

They all wandered the aisles like kids in a candy store.

“I’m getting her balloons,” Penelope says. “Like so many pink balloons. Nobody can feel bad with that many balloons.”

“Flowers,” Rossi chimes in. “We should get her plenty of flowers to make the room cheerful.”

“We’ll have to get those from hospital gift shop,” JJ comments.

“I’d want chocolate,” Emily suggests. “Chocolate helps everything.”

“Look,” Morgan says, showing a pink stuffed bunny to Garcia. “It’s cute right? For the baby?”

“It’s perfect, Derek,” she assures, grabbing his hand. “Very cute.”

“Oh, a memory book,” Reid mentions. “So they can write down details every day.”

“Leave it to the genius to pick out a book,” Morgan jokes with a playful shove.

“Settle down, boys.” JJ cuts in. “As much as I’m sure she’ll appreciate the pretty gifts, she did just have a baby,” she reminds the group. “She needs some practical things too, trust me.” As she picks out a blanket and a pacifier, Henry begins to grow restless. As she picked up a snack for him, another idea crossed her mind.

“We should get something for Jack, too,” she thought aloud. “LEGOs. He loves LEGOs. And some gummy bears.”

A sudden ringing startles everyone.

“Ssssshhhhhhh,” Garcia commands as she puts the phone on speaker. “It’s Y/N! Quiet!”

“Hello my angel dear,” she lilts, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m very tired, but otherwise happy and healthy,” you report. “Is everyone with you?”

“We’re all here,” JJ chimes in.

“Hi everyone!” You reply. “In that case, I have news. The nurses have said that we’re allowed to have visitors first thing in the morning, if you’d like to see our newest addition.”

“Oh, wild horses could not keep us away, ma’am.” Penelope assures. “We’ll see you all bright and early.”

“Not too early, Penny,” you remind her. “You gotta give me a chance to wake up first.”

“Right, sooooo 10am then?”

“It’s a date.”

——————————————————————————

That evening, you soaked up as much family time as possible before the wave of visitors began. Aaron was a natural, as you’d known he would be from seeing him with Jack.

Watching him with the baby was quickly becoming your favorite pastime. The look of sheer enchantment on his face as he held her close and rocked her made you fall a little more in love with him every moment.

“Daddy loves you so much,” he coos to the tiny bundle in his arms.

“What?” he questions as he catches you watching.

“Oh nothing,” you reply, ruffling Jack’s hair as he slept by your side. “Just wondering how I got so lucky.”

“I think it’s me who got lucky. I thought I’d never love again. I was so closed off. I was prepared to spend the rest of my life as a single dad, doing everything on my own. Now,” he chokes out, “now I’d fall apart without you.”

“Good thing you’ve got two of us now to keep you boys in line then,” you return with a wicked grin. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger already.”

——————————————————————————

When you awoke the next morning, you were greeted by the most beautiful sight. Aaron still asleep in the recliner next your bed, his arm cradling the sleeping baby on his chest. While you hated to disturb the peaceful scene, you knew the team would be arriving as soon as the clock struck 10.

“Aaron,” you whisper. “Aaron, wake up,” slightly louder this time. He stirs awake, moving slowly so as not to wake the sleeping child.

“What is it babe?”

“The team will be here soon,” you inform him.

“Ah. I should go get ready,” he replies.

“Mama, can I hold her while dad gets ready?” Jack asks, startling the both of you.

“Oh buddy, I didn’t realize you were awake,” you say to him. “Of course you can hold her if you want.”

Jack scrambled into your lap as Aaron rounded the bed.

“Just be really careful with her bud,” Aaron reminds him as he settles the baby on his lap.

“I will dad,” he replies.

As Aaron walked away, the baby’s eyes fluttered open and she let out a small cry.

“Here, why don’t you give her a pacifier?” you suggest.

“Sssshhhh, don’t cry,” he says, giving her the pacifier, and then softly stroking her head.

“What do you think about your baby sister, Jack?”

“She’s pretty, Mama, just like you.”

“Thank you baby,” you reply. “That’s very sweet. I love you.”

“I love you too, mama.”

“And I love you all,” Aaron adds.

——————————————————————————

A short while later, a knock at the door alerts you that your visitors have arrived.

“You ready for this?” Aaron asks as he walks to the door.

“I’ve never been more ready. I just know they’re gonna be so in love with her.”

Aaron opens the door and the team flows in with their myriad of gifts.

Penelope hands off her bouquet of balloons to Derek and rushes over to hug you.

“Oh Y/N,” she gushes, cupping your face. “You look beautiful. It’s so good to see you, we were all worried sick.”

“Thank you Penny,” you reply, eyeing the room. “I’m assuming the shopping spree was your idea.”

“Oh shush woman,” she scolds. “You deserve it. We wanted your room to cozy and pretty because we heard you’re going to be here for a while. Sue us.”

“Thank you all for the gifts, you really didn’t have to do any of that,” you reply, tearing up as you address the whole room. “Just being there for us when we needed you the most was all we could ask for and you’ve gone above and beyond.”

“This is the least we could do, really,” JJ assures, softly rubbing your hand.

“Oh fine, be modest if you insist,” you reply with an eye roll. “I’d open all the gifts now, but I imagine you’re all much more interested in our slightly earlier than anticipated arrival.”

Seemingly for the first time since they came in, everyone notices Aaron’s presence and the little pink bundle in his arms.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” you continue, “the announcement you’ve all been waiting for. Introducing Miss Savannah Rose.”

“What a lovely name,” Emily chimes in.

“Thank you,” Aaron cuts in. “We would have told you all sooner but we actually just decided on it while we were here,” he says beaming down at his perfectly content infant daughter. “You can all hold her if you like.”

“I’m sure we’d all love to,” JJ replies, “but i think we should leave that you for now. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to spoil her rotten just as soon as she gets home.”

“Right! We just wanted to check on everyone and make sure you have everything you need,” Garcia adds.

“Well thanks to you guys, I think our hospital room is pretty well stocked. I just wish I could say the same for the nursery,” you say with a shrug.

“What’s wrong with the nursery?” Rossi inquires.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Aaron admits. “Between me traveling so much for work and Y/N being pregnant and taking care of Jack, it got pushed to the wayside. I thought we had a bit more time.”

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you it’s not your fault?” you soothe, reaching for his hand. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“I know, I just wanted everything to be perfect for you.”

“It already is dear,” you assure him with a smile. “Why don’t you go get some coffee, you look exhausted.”

“Good idea babe,” he says, settling the baby into your arms.

“I could use a cup myself,” Morgan adds.

——————————————————————————

“Derek, I need your help,” Aaron pleads, once out of earshot of the room.

“Of course man, anything you need.”

“We’re going to be in the hospital for about a week while Y/N recovers and I’m desperate to have a nice nursery for her when we get home, but I obviously can’t leave her alone. I know it’s a lot to ask, but is there anything you could do to help?”

“Sure thing man, don’t worry about it. That’s the best gift I could hope to give you.”

“You’re the best,” Aaron replies, slapping him on the shoulder. “Just don’t let Y/N find out, okay? I want it to be a surprise.”

“My lips are sealed,” Derek promises.

——————————————————————————

That afternoon Derek had the whole team assembled in the nursery to get started.

“Alright everyone,” he begins, “We’ve got one week to make this the best surprise gift possible. Let’s make it happen.”

“What color should we paint it?” Penelope inquires.

“Got that covered already,” Derek replies while opening a paint can. “Purple. Hotch said it’s Y/N’s favorite color.”

“Oh Derek, it’s perfect!” she squealed, squeezing him tight. “She’s gonna adore it.”

“While the two of us are painting,” Penny addresses the group, “why don’t the rest of you do some some shopping?”

“Great idea, baby girl.” Morgan chimes in. “I think they’ve got the basics from the baby shower and I saw a crib and changing table in the garage, but I’m sure you guys can find things they’re missing.”

“Oh I think we’ve got this,” JJ states confidently. “Let’s get this show on the road,” she commands, herding Emily, Rossi, and Reid out the door.

When the group arrived back at the Hotchner house several hours later, the nursery walls were covered in a soft shade of lavender; as were Morgan and Garcia.

“I don’t know how you two managed to get any paint on the walls,” JJ said with a grin.

“Smile for the camera, you two,” Emily cuts in, snapping a picture on her phone as the couple hug and smile in their paint splattered clothes.

——————————————————————————

The next day conversation flowed as team was busily assembling furniture. Rossi, Reid, and Morgan worked on the crib while Penny, Emily, and JJ tackled the changing table.

“Let me know if you ladies need any help,” Morgan mentions casually.

“Oh right,” Emily grumbles, “because OBVIOUSLY the women need a big, strong man’s help, right?”

“I didn’t say that,” Derek counters. “I was just offering.”

“Oh not only will we get ours done without your help, we’ll get it done faster,” Emily challenges.

“Oh yeah?”

“YEAH!” all three women reply in unison.

“You’re on,” Morgan accepts.

“Oh you’re so going down,” Penny taunts, throwing pieces of plastic wrapping at Derek.

“Losers buy sushi for lunch?” Rossi suggests.

“Oh that could be pretty expensive for you Dave,” JJ comments. “You sure you’re up for that?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Rossi says, rolling his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

Two hours later, as JJ and Emily were finishing up the crib, the men came dragging in, arms full of takeout bags.

“Say cheese!” Penelope squeals as she takes their picture. “For the bragging rights.”

——————————————————————————

The next days were spent putting the finishing touches on the room.

A purple gradient butterfly mobile above the crib from JJ.

A bookshelf with a fully stocked library, specially selected by Reid. Emily places her floral covered photo album on top.

Lavender curtains with a shimmery overlay, Penelope’s contribution.

Derek’s stuffed bunny, carefully laid in a white gliding chair with purple cushions, which was generously paid for by Dave.

Derek lays a soft shag rug over the hardwood floor and drapes a plush floral blanket over the edge of the crib.

“I think that about does it, guys,” he says with a look of pride.

“You know, I bought them that photo album,” Emily comments, “it would be a shame if we didn’t put a few in there as a gift.”

“Yeah, but how do we get a picture of the whole group?” JJ wonders out loud.

“We could set a timer,” Penelope suggests.

“Yeah, but who sets the timer?” Reid asks, as he turns to see the whole group looking at him.

“Seriously guys?”

Between the camera falling over, closed eyes, and Spence not making it back before the timer, it took a few tries before there was a good group shot.

“And now a funny one,” Penny insists.

Once the photos, including the bloopers, have been printed and arranged in the album, JJ makes sure to write descriptions for each in the margins before setting it back on the shelf.

“Good job team,” Derek announces. “Our work here is done.”

——————————————————————————

After all the chaos surrounding the birth and a full week in the hospital, nothing felt better than standing at the door of your house with the love of your life and your two beautiful children.

“You ready to finally get some rest, baby?” Aaron asks as he ushers you inside the house, one solid arm arm around the small of your back and Savannah in her carrier on the other.

“Yeah,” you sigh, dropping your purse on the coffee table and slipping off your shoes. “I just wish we didn’t still have to worry about the nursery,” you groan, plopping down onto the sofa.

“About that,” Aaron says with a mischievous grin, offering you his free hand.

“What are you up to, Aaron Hotchner?” You muse as he leads you down the hallway.

“Just trust me,” he assures, coming to a halt in front of the nursery door. “Close your eyes,” he requests.

“What is going on here?” you inquire again.

“Just close your eyes please, darling,” he asks. “For me.”

“Alright, alright,” you comply, “this better be good.”

“Don’t open them until I say so, okay?”

“Yes sir.”

With eyes closed and Jack close by your side, you hear the door open and the rustling of paper inside the room.

“Alright,” he whispers, sliding his arm around your shoulders. “Open your eyes.”

—————————————————————————

Taglist: @ange-must-die @agent-laufeyson @poetsacademia @hotchners-slut @arganfics @ladyreapermc @rousethemouse @less-intelligent-spencerreid @tgibstan @themanip @word-scribbless @quillvine @glizzieborden @miss-united-ace @samayoshito @hotchnerundercover @pedropascalian @thenewnormalforensicator @crowdedimagines @sagittarianwolf @kleff03

[poesparakeet-fics]

Read it here or on AO3!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Caleb Widogast Characters: Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss, Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre, Caduceus Clay Additional Tags: Shadogast - Freeform, dunamancy, Empire Siblings - Freeform, Prank Wars, Tickling, rib tickling Summary:

What happens to a ticklish wizard when he manages to piss off too many of the people who love him? Allies are made and lessons are learned.

FIC

“Caleb Widogast!” Caleb jumped as he walked into the kitchen of the Xorhaus, unsure of what he could have possibly done to upset anyone this early in the morning. He was even more surprised when he saw who. “Essek?” Caleb stammered, taken aback. The drow was perched on a large kitchen chair with a cup of Caduceus’ tea in his hands and a pinched look on his face. “Schatze, I’m sorry, were we to meet? I hope you weren’t waiting long, I--” “No.” Essek corrected him sharply. “I am here to have tea with Mr. Clay at his request, to discuss the situation in Savalierwood. But he just told me that he healed some pretty distinct injuries for you, yesterday?” Caleb felt a guilty cringe fold his stomach in half. He sighed, looking at Caduceus. “So that just came up, ja?” “Yeah,” Caduceus responded, “thought it might be why you slept in.” “Ja, I had a bit of a fall--” “A fall? From where?” Essek’s gaze was intense. Caleb dropped his eyes to the floor. “Oh just, you know, clumsy--” “Really? You clumsily practiced dunamantic phasing on your own and fell through the floor?” “I think it was three floors, actually…” Caduceus mused quietly. The cringe came to the surface and showed, unbidden on Caleb’s face. “Essek, I--” “I have never limited you. It was the one thing I asked.” “I know, I--” “Caleb.” He froze when Essek cut him off, meeting the elf’s gaze once more. Essek stared him down hard before continuing. “I had… better masters than you had, when I was a young wizard. Infinitely gentler, certainly. But they would have whipped me for practicing phasing magic by myself. Truly. You could have cut yourself in half, dismembered yourself, crushed yourself, suffocated in a wall--” Essek seemed to cut himself off with a wave of his hand. “The point… the point is it would cause me a great heartbreak if irresponsible use of the magic I taught you led to your demise. Please promise me again, and keep it this time.” Caleb ducked his head, feeling like a rightfully scolded school child. “I will, ja. I am sorry.” Essek gave him a look that said he didn't entirely believe him. “I do trust you. I do not trust your curiosity. It’s only a virtue if it doesn’t get you killed.” Caleb laughed softly, nodding as he sat down at the table with them and accepted a teacup from the still-silent Caduceus. He winked at Essek. “I think I could say the same to you, but fair enough. If I do it again, I’ll let you whip me.” Essek smiled back, but the doubt didn’t leave his expression. ... “CALEB!” Beau’s voice thundered from upstairs, and Caduceus almost dropped the knife he was using to prepare vegetables for dinner. He spun around to see the wizard in question with his hands in his component pouch, running as fast as he could through the kitchen and out the back door. Beau’s quick steps followed, but by the time she was in the kitchen they could both hear the familiar woosh of a misty step from outside. She stopped stock-still in the kitchen, hands clenched into fists, looking… different than Caduceus had ever seen her. What was it? “Uh… hey. Did you get some new clothes.?” Beau turned to him silently, eyes burning holes in his head. It was pretty scary, actually. “Oh! Uh… is that what this is about?” Beau’s clothes were bright magenta where they had once been her usual cobalt blue. She was still staring at Caduceus with her fists clenched. Veth and Fjord were creeping wearily into the kitchen behind her. “I think it looks nice--!” Veth offered, only to choke off in a scared squeak when Beau rounded to face her. Beau reached out to yank Fjord’s hat off his head and put it on. “Hey!’ Fjord protested, before clamping one hand over his mouth to hide a smile. “Oh. I see.” As it perched on Beau’s head, the hat instantly turned the same bright magenta of her robes. When she handed it back it returned to its usual color. The whole room was biting lips to keep an amused smile off their face, lest they become the new target for her fury. Beau took a deep breath before bellowing again. “CALEB!” She spoke into the air, her voice loud enough to hear throughout the house. “I KNOW THAT SPELL DOESN’T GO FAR. I KNOW YOU’RE HERE, AND I AM GOING TO FUCKING GET YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME? I AM GOING TO DO DOPE MONK SHIT TO YOUR NERVOUS SYSTEM, TIE YOU UP AND FEED YOU TO A ROOM FULL OF TIEFLINGS. You will FUCKING SUFFER! THINK OF A NEW NAME, CAUSE CALEB WIDOGAST IS A FUCKING DEAD MAN! ” At the end of her tirade Beau took a deep breath and started to walk upstairs again, but not before spinning around and jabbing a finger at everyone in the kitchen. “ANYONE caught harboring the wizard will share his fucking fate!” … "...CALEB WIDOGAST IS A FUCKING DEAD MAN! ” Caleb was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his hiding place in Fjord’s empty bedroom when Beau finished her threats, but by the time she was climbing the stairs again he had disappeared with a crackling pop. When the disorienting suck of the teleport spell faded he was standing on a clay path in a dimly-lit garden next to a trio of small towers made of iridescent grey brick. An arcane weather-vane creaked in the darkness. He started toward the door. “Caleb?” A head of pale curls popped up over the top of a bush of dark purple flowers, a frown of concern on the face beneath. “Essek, hello. Ah… may I spend the night?” Essek walked toward him as he pulled floral gardening gloves off of his hands, eyes narrowed wearily. “Of course, I am always happy to have you...” He reached Caleb and placed a distracted kiss on his cheek. “... did something happen at home?” “Yes.” Caleb answered, only to stutter as Essek’s worry grew, “Oh, ah, nothing bad. Well, nothing very bad. I just need to avoid Beauregard for a bit.” Essek’s worry immediately evaporated to be replaced with amused annoyance. “I see. What did you do this time?” They both started to stroll through the garden toward Essek’s back door. “Oh, just some illusion work. It will go away by morning. She deserves it, after stealing my spellbook while I was sleeping.” “Mhmm.” Essek hummed, linking his arm with Caleb’s. “But wasn’t her stealing your spellbook revenge for…” “The magic spiders, ja, but I had to do that! She--” “--the disappearing ink, yes, I remember. Are you sensing a pattern here, chathtiu?” Caleb sniffed and turned his nose up. “I have no idea what you mean.” Essek’s smile turned indulgent as he pulled Caleb into his home. “I’m sure you don’t. Beauregard does have a way of pushing your buttons, hm?” “She is the expert.” “I should ask her for advice, one of these days.” Caleb only laughed, pulling the smaller man into his arms. “You have your own way of pushing my buttons, don’t you schatz?” Essek smiled back. “You’re right, of course. I do.” ... Caleb stalked through the library of the Xorhause, circling it room by room. While his books were sitting on the desk he’d been working at the night before, their holsters were missing. He shifted the papers on his desk, panic rising in his chest. Where were they? “Caleb?” Jester was standing in the doorway, his holsters dangling from one finger. Caleb let out a sigh of relief. “Jester! Danke! Where were they?” “Sorry, I think Sprinkle must have stolen them.” Caleb shook his head, the tension in his chest easing. “That’s alright. I’m just glad they are found.” He reached out for them, stopping short when another figure entered the room. It was Beau, her clothes now back to their normal deep blue. Their eyes met for a moment, but the monk just breezed past as though she didn’t even notice Caleb was there. It had been a week since the incident with her clothes with no revenge or further threats, and Caleb was starting to wonder if he’d finally won the war. He shrugged his holsters on as the two women sat down on the sofa. He missed Jester’s giggle until it was too late. “Hey Caleb?” Beau asked. “Uh, ja?” Caleb cringed a little, turning around. Beau’s look was positively predatory. “Fuck you.” Caleb was about to respond when the sensation of fingers digging into his ribs flushed all the air out of him in one squeal. He spun around clumsily, hands flapping, but nobody was near him. He craned his neck to look down, his arms helplessly hugging his own ribcage while his knees buckled. That’s when he realized where the sensation was coming from. “Wh-what? No, I-- ah! Please!” His fingers fumbled with the buckle of his holsters to try and escape the traitorous leather trap, but the buckle was trapped under a magical seal of iridescent purple wax with the image of a skeleton key pressed into its surface. “Fuck!” Beaureguard was grinning like a gnoll. “What’s that buddy? Fuck you?” “Aah!” Caleb’s whole body convulsed and hit the carpet as the tickling escalated, even more invisible fingers reaching out from the leather to stroke delicate bones under pale skin and plain cloth. “No no! Please!” “Can I try?” Jester asked, giggling. “Nein!” “Sure, go for it.” “Fuck yooooou Caleb!” Caleb couldn’t answer her with words, he could only wail wordlessly. He writhed on the ground, trying desperately to resist the currently useless instinct to lock his arms at his sides so he could try and pull the holsters off over his head, but it was no use. All he could do was paw uselessly at the leather before Beureguard hissed the trigger word again and all he could see was stars. “Uh… everything alright in here?” Fjord’s voice came from the direction of the door. Caleb couldn’t see him over the sofa. “Fjord!” Caleb screeched. “Plea-hee-se! Evil!” It was all he could get out before his voice cracked and his laughter turned silent, his head thrown back against the carpet. “Huh?” Beau answered in an exaggeratedly casual tone. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just getting a little payback for my pink phase. Stole his holsters and Essek cursed ‘em.” A wave of betrayal strong enough to overpower his ticklishness gave Caleb just enough breath to shout “WHAT?!” before the laughter overtook him again, tears building in his eyes. “I helped with the ruse!” Jester piped up. “Uh-huh.” Fjord nodded, “can he breathe?” “Hmm? Oh, I guess we can check. Good boy, Caleb.” The sensation stopped all at once, and Caleb rolled flat on his back to gulp in air. “See? He’s fine.” Caleb sat up, hands held out in supplication even as he struggled to catch his breath. “Beau, please, I’m s-” “Fuck you and your apology.” Any strength Caleb had recovered melted away as he squealed and flopped back down on the carpet, limbs curling uselessly against his body. The tickling fingers coming from the inner panels of his holsters might as well have been sucking his very life-force out. Fjord lets out a sigh. “If you’re going to torture him for a prank, you at least have to let him apologise. Good boy?” Caleb didn’t get up this time, too scared to trigger someone’s wrath or sense of mischief. He was still giggling, partially from phantom sensation and partially from the panicky tension of knowing that any of them could trigger the curse at any moment. “I’m sorry! Bitte!” There was a beat of silence before Beau turned to Fjord again. “There, I let him apologise. Can we go back to the torture now?” “Wait!” Caleb squeaked, rising unsteadily to his knees. “Please Beau, we can talk about this--” “Oh, you wanna talk now? Cause when it happened you were happy to teleport away to your fucking boyfriend’s. So… you know,” she finished with a grin, “fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU.” “Nein!” Was all Caleb could manage before his laughter stole his voice away, only to crack and go silent once more a moment later. Tears leaked from his eyes to roll into the fluffy carpet beneath him as he crumpled. “Oh, he’s so cute when he cries, I love it!” Jester clapped her hands while she watched from the sofa. “This is the best curse ever.” Fjord made an agreeable sound. “I wonder if Essek could make something more remote? Then we could tickle him wherever we are. That would be fun.” Caleb couldn’t respond to the idea with anything more than pained wail through his hysterics. The others pretended not to notice. “Yeah, I do worry that he goes without when we’re gone.” Jester cooed. “Pfft. Yeah, I don’t think Essek is letting that happen.” Beau snorted. Caleb started to beat at the floor with one hand, hiccups punctuating his laughter. “Aw, alright. Good boy.” The sensation stopped again, but Caleb couldn’t stop his laughter. “Please, pleaheese, *hic* bitte--” “Focus on catching your breath.” Fjord suggested, “It’ll do you more good than begging will.” Caleb let out an exhausted little sob before obeying, his lungs working overtime to suck in air. He wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to make the hiccups go away with little success. When his breathing finally evened out Fjord gave him a reassuring smile. “See, that’s better.” Fjord soothed. Beau’s grin got wider. “Hey, Caleb?” “No!” “Fffffffffff…” “Mercy!” “...uuuuck you!” “Aaii!” Caleb let out a little yelp at the sound of the words, then… nothing. He’d clenched his eyes shut in anticipation, and when he slowly opened them Beau was glaring at him. “Hey! How come it didn’t work?” Caleb let out a huge sigh of relief. The curse must have expended all of its energy. “Is it done?” Jester questioned. Caleb was wondering the same thing. He tried to examine the buckle of his holsters as subtly as possible. The seal was still there, which meant whatever the curse was, it was not over. He needed to get out of earshot as quickly as he could. “I thought it was supposed to last longer than that. Can you message Essek?” “Sure!” Caleb started to cast for misty step as subtly as he could, hoping he was close enough to his lab to lock himself inside. “Hi Essek, it’s Jester! So, your awesome curse thingy is SO great, but like, but it ran out of tickles? Do you know why?” Whoosh. Caleb hit the stone floor of his lab with an oof, dragging himself to his feet and transmuting the door of the lab into stone for good measure. As he groaned he saw that the room looked quite different compared to how he had left it the night before. The large chalkboard he used for calculations had been moved into the centre of the room. In one corner someone had drawn a symbol-- a skeleton key, like the one on the seal trapping him in his holsters. Next to it someone had written in familiar, looping script: I will not practice phasing unsupervised. X100 Caleb whipped out the enchanted little book he and Essek used to send messages between them, only to find a new one waiting for him. You have 30 minutes. Caleb was glad nobody was there to watch him gape like a fish between the chalkboard and the book. Essek couldn’t be serious. He frowned and grabbed up a quill. You are a traitorous snake! There was only a single silent moment before the page shimmered and revealed another message under Caleb’s. Noted. Now you only have 25 minutes. Caleb took a moment to say every curse word in every language he knew. Then he stood up, snatched the chalk and started writing.

[danddymaro]

Perfect | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Who Is the Perfect man for (f/n)?

-Something Corny, and sweet.

Word Count:  2826

Perfect 

He found it impossible to compete with his closest friend, not just because it was morally wrong to try and get the same girl, but because all in all, he had no chances with her, and he was well aware.

'Because even if I'm wrong,' He started, '...Even if it's not Steve... then I'd still be the last person in the world you’d ever look at,' He silently declared, truly believing it.

'You could always do so...so much better than me,' He thought with dejection.

'I know it...but even then, I'm willing to make a fool of myself. 

 I want to let you know because it's getting harder and harder to just sit back,'

"(f/n)" He said while following up with a harsh swallow,

"I'm not perfect like Steve," Bucky started, "...I’m not someone who’s loved by everyone, and looked up by just about every child on the damn planet," he confessed, and at his sudden outburst she let out a surprised peep, turning to him with wide eyes,

“Wha-”

" And I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm not him!" He cried out. " But I wish I was..." he added, knowing just how much the woman idolized the other man.

"I really wish I were." He added with a short mutter.

 (f/n) eyed his pain-stricken face with concern, because there was an obvious shine of heartbreak in his steel-colored eyes, causing a hitch in her breath, her heart stopped by the sight before it tore in two, further breaking as she saw his expression grow even more with anguish and melancholy as his chest heaved with heavy breaths.

- This was the endgame, the all or nothing for him,

"In Fact, I'm the furthest thing from a hero and I know that." he continued on, a dry laugh tailing the words because he found it almost amusing how little he was in comparison to the perfect blonde.

‘When I stand next to him… I can’t help but feel like I’m less.’

"- I know what I am," he added, trying his best to let his wavering smile last.

He wanted to at least look brave, to look like a real man and not the groveling mess he really was as he forced out the words, battling rough the pain that threatened to take over.

Her (e/c) colored eyes went wide as he said that, and she immediately rushed to his side, " No Bucky, please don't start with that, you're a good person!" she said with a certainty that almost convinced him.

Like many times before, she rushed to his side, both Metaphorically and in literal actions, trying her best to assure him, and it was yet another reason why he cherished her so much.

"It can't be true if I don't believe it," She said stubbornly, throwing him a glowing grin as she said the words, the expression brightening even more as he looked at her dumbfounded,

"What does that even mean?" He asked her, a little chuckle leaving him.

"Just what I said," She went on, " It can't be true if I don't accept it," She reiterated.

He let the words settle in, and it wasn’t long before eye understood, by then offering  her a tired, little smirk  as he shook his head, "So, it’s just that easy?" He asked her, the moronic simplicity of it amusing him.

"For me it is," she told him, "For me, it's easy to accept that you're not a monster. It's easy for me to believe it, and even if you keep telling me otherwise, Buck...It won't change the way I see you," She explained,

"So just think of it that way, that, even if the entire world believes it, you included, there's not a damn thing in the world that will let me fall into the same train of thought.

As long as I'm kicking there's doubt,

And as long as there is doubt, it can't be accepted as truth," She spelled out, the certainty she displayed showing to be unwavering.

‘Only you...’ He thought with disbelief, 

“You really are something else,” He muttered, the little grumble rousing a little giggle.

She was the anchor to his unsteady boat and all the while the kindness she showed him made him fall harder under her spell, giving him more excuses to come closer to her, it also scathed him, because he knew that she only saw him as the pathetic mess in need of care.

And he wanted much more than that. 

He shook his head and took advantage of the closeness of their bodies by taking hold of her, his hands at her upper arms,

"- (F/n)," He started, mauling over how it had taken him months to find the perfect moment, the instant where he'd risk everything.

‘This is it,’ He told himself.

"You don't need to coddle me like that," he said with a soft sound of amusement escaping his nose. Afterward, he then took a deep, slow breath through his parted lips, before he tightened his hold by only a small degree, careful to not hurt her with his metal arm.

"Look... I can't be him, and I'm sorry," He said softly, truly sounding regretful for something he had no control over.

"I can't be Steve, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't wish I could stand in his shoes for just an instant, and feel what it's like to have you see me with anything but pity.” He revealed, “ Because then...(F/n) you’d see me in the way I really want you to look at me as...as a man." he confessed.

‘I don’t want you to feel bad for me anymore. In fact, I don’t want to be swallowed up by the same pity myself,’ He thought to himself.

" Look, I'm not as smart as Banner, because I still struggle with the technology of today and I know it'll get annoying," he said trailing off, not finding a single strong point he held in the field, "But I'll try... I really will," he swore.

At the confession, a small smile made its way onto her features, because he was right, he was a helpless mess when it came to the more modern things, but, to her, it was adorable.

She found it cute, and just another reason to stay by him a bit longer.

Watching him fiddle with his phone with that adorable, little face of confusion he gave her was all the more reason to sit closer to him, taking hold of his hand within hers to lead his finger across the screen and navigate through all its apps and features.

" I'm not wealthy like Stark… in fact, I could never have that much money and spoil you as much as he could." He told her, " I know some women like fancy jewelry and nice expensive dinners, but the most I can do for you now is a small bouquet of ( favorite flowers)...because I know how much you like them," He said softly, having noticed how much she stopped by to visit the little patch of them as they took small walks.

"Sorry," She said with a sheepish smile, " I know it gets annoying," She said while petting the small petal, " But I really like these flowers," She said while gazing at the blossom,

" They're my favorite," She told him, having to only mention it once for him to remember, ingraining it in his brain that if he ever got her flowers they'd be the ones she loves most.

' I know everything about you,' he thought with fondness. ' Because...Because I always remember everything you have to say...I cling to every word because I know that sometimes you think you’re not heard.'

"I remember every bit of you, down to the stupid little faces you want me to forget," he said making her hold back a small chuckle as she glanced away, turning pink at the mention.

"I'm not a prince like Thor.. or ...even a God..." he continued on, speaking with just abit more lightheartedness while gazing at the sweet expression she wore.

"I'm not funny like Clint since you seem to love his jokes so much...for whatever reason," he said with furrowed brows, seemingly stumped on that one because Clint Barton’s humor was just simple, stupid puns that made everyone else roll their eyes.

"And don't get me started on Sam..." He muttered, detesting how easily the two flowed with each other, all to the point they seemed to share a single, working  brain cell, and it only made the older man wish he had the same ability to just work with her without the awkwardness and fear.

‘But I just get so nervous...’ he lamented, ‘ I just end up overthinking it all, and it’s because you have this effect on me,

In fact, it’s a miracle I’m even getting through this now,’

(f/n) shook her head at him, because Bucky didn't need to tell her jokes to smile, and they didn't need to make stupid banter either.

she didn't need to find a reason to smile with him, because, she just did, naturally.

- It was like second nature while at his side.

"I'm not as charming as that Loki guy.

I see the way you smile at the sound of his voice and I'd be lying if I said I really didn't wish mine sounded like his," He said with a dry chuckle, knowing he grew especially jealous when the other man purposely pronounced certain words for her, just to make her giggle, living for the attention he received.

'Oh...Bucky,' (f/n) thought while shaking her head, because, truth be told, the sound of his voice was much more her taste. She loved the sound of it from when it goes higher with joy, or mellows down in serenity, and even when it trembles as he tells her his worries.

‘I don’t think you realize how expressive you’ve become,’ She mused, ‘ Oh Buck, I could go on forever listening to you instead.' She thought to herself. 'I'd love nothing more than to hear you every morning, and not just outside my door. 

I mean first thing...right as I wake up.

And then...afterwards, fall asleep to your murmurs.' she inwardly spoke with the same bashful expression that had yet to cease,

'Bucky...' She thought with a soft smile. 'You’re such an idiot.'

"- I'm just not... not him. I'm not any of these men.

I don't have anything to offer you...

Not a single thing to my name that can bring you pride, " he admitted while looking down at his hands, both gloved limbs because he detested looking down at what actually lay beneath the piece of clothing.

"My arm is like a spoon on a stove on most summer days and a block of ice on winter ones.

So, I could never give you a fully warm touch, one that’s comforting and that I know you deserve." He said softly, having gone over the thought so many times that it haunted him.

"I'm not perfect..." he said dejectedly, saying so in a way that seemed as though it was meant for himself to remind him of just who he was before he got his hopes up too far.

‘What am I even doing...?’ He asked himself, his shoulders slowly falling as he weighed in the facts.

‘Oh...I'm not either Bucky,' She thought while feeling her heart race.

What he believed to be perfection was all misguided, because All the details and traits he wanted to have were things he didn’t need.

"I know I'm not.

I'm at the point where I'm still struggling to remember who am...and much more, somehow make up for all the wrong I’ve done.

(f/n) , I'm Still struggling to accept what I've done...which is a lot." He confessed, sighing deeply. " I've done so much wrong that I don't ever think ill be able to atone for my wrongdoings.

In short, I could give you a list of the many things wrong with me, and it'd run for miles, but there is one thing that I know is right,

And...And it's that I love you." He said while finally uttering the three words he's wanted to tell her for ages now.

"I love you so much (f/n), it hurts right here when I'm not with you, " He admitted, clutching his chest, placing his palm right above his bouncing heart.

Taking her hands in his he lifted them to his lips, offering her a tender kiss to each Knuckle, and all the while she stood watching, still stunned by his confession.

"Doll, you make my heart race like crazy!" he said with astonishment, peering down at her with glowing eyes.

"Sometimes, you make me feel like I'm back where I was when everything was simple and good, and for those moments, I feel fully human.

Yeah, There are times when my brain goes haywire, and I get stupidly tongue tied, but, when I’m not  rendered stupid, with you...everything feels right.

 And just looking at you does that to me!" he said cocooning her hands in his.

"You give me nostalgia of good times and make me forget I'm a mess, and that's all I want now, to feel like a regular guy and...maybe, settle down.” He revealed, letting her know what she inspired in him.

‘A family? For me?’ He asked himself, ‘ You make me think of building an actual future,’

“-I know one thing for certain and ...and It's that whatever I become after this will revolve around you,

Always.

Because you're the center of my universe (f/n).

I didn't want to force you into loving me, to pity you into accepting me, that's why I've been silent, but I also can't keep this to myself anymore, because I feel like it’s slowly killing me," He said while tightening his hold on her.

“Keeping this from you is torture,” He added." If I lose you because I was too afraid to take the risk I don't know what I'd do with myself. And I know that even if everyone else in the world has a better shot than me...Even if they're all better in every way, no one else can love you the way I do,” He told her. 

“And you deserve to be given the world, if not the entire universe!

(F/n) ,  I'm asking for the chance, The chance to try and hand it to you, " he pleaded. "That's all I need, it's all I need to prove myself. I'll try my best to make you happy and treat you like a prince- no like a queen. " He went on, rambling and unwinding everything he'd kept silent.

Her (e/c) eyes were wide and her brows rose as high as they could, shaking like a leaf in his hands, and seeing that he felt anxious,

"Don't be afraid of me, please. You can even say no if you want, just don't leave me.

 Even if you don't want me as a man, I still want to be able to see you, I still want to be a part of your life, no matter how meaningless it is, because I just want to make you happy."

His eyes then met hers, and in that one glance, his heart exploded into little bits and pieces.

Her eyes were glistening with tears, but beneath that, they twinkled with the glee. They sparkled like they never had before and he couldn't help but stare at the woman, becoming dumbstruck.

" You took all this time to list the things you're not Bucky..." she replied, finally speaking, finding her voice. " but you forgot to mention everything that makes me want you instead," She told him.

She then wrapped her arms around his neck, latching onto him, unashamed at coming closer.

Without skipping a beat he lifted her up and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Spinning her around he smiled,

"Doll... I'll make you happy, I promise...I'll find a reason to make you smile every single day." He swore, heading down for a kiss he'd craved.

Through her response she smiled, kissing him back with the same yearning, thinking of no one else but the man that held her so dearly,

“I love you too,” She said back, the words filling him with even more joy because while he wasn’t in any way near faultless, she loved him.

‘I’m not perfect either,’ She mused, ‘But you think I’m worth being handed the entire world and more,’ She went on, truly touched by his declarations, 

In spite of his every insecurity and doubt, she saw him as her own perfection, finding it amusing because all the while, she’d been afraid to take the step closer, 

“I couldn’t ask for better,” She breathed, 

“I couldn’t love anyone else,”

[thedevilsmemes]

      PINTEREST QUOTES I USE IN MY MUSINGS BOARDS                         ~ A SENTENCE MEME - PART 2

                         Change pronouns as / when needed to preferred pronoun.

“I do not do justice, I do damage. I do not do empathy, I do damage. I do not do forgiveness, I do damage. I do not do mercy, I do damage.”

“Like, you can boss me around in sexual situations but you better not try to tell me what to do in regular life.”

“I’m fine, I’ve had worse.”

“I’m meaner than my demons.”

“If I cannot bend Heaven, I will raise Hell.”

“Well, aren’t you a little ray of pitch black?”

“He was like a storm.”

“You want to play dirty? Fine, let’s play dirty!”

{ feels an emotion. } “Who the fuck authorised this?!”

“What the fuck? What the fuck is this? What the fuck?”

“Judge if you want. We are all going to die. I intend to deserve it.”

“Goddamn right you should be scared of me.”

“They wanted a monster; I decided to give them one.”

“Seduce and destroy.”

“What the fuck is intimacy? How does that work? Letting… people be close to you? What the fuck?”

“You couldn’t kill me if you tried for one hundred years.”

“I’ll do this my way.”

“I am severely emotionally unstable.”

“What, from the bottom of the heart, the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t take any orders. I barely take suggestions.”

“I send my best regards from Hell.”

“I like my coffee how I like myself: Dark, bitter and too hot for you.”

“Me and God, we don’t get along.”

“Be brave, Angel.”

“Self care is drinking three pots of coffee and getting into a knife fight with God.”

{ takes gulp of vodka straight from the bottle } “My day was fine.”

“Have I stabbed you? No. Then I am being nice.”

“Holy Shit! I’M the demon living in my house.”

“Sir, that’s my emotional support knife collection.”

“I want an ancient elaborate dagger with my name engraved into the blade as a gift. The only romantic gesture.”

“ ‘Are you a top or a bottom?’ I'm a threat!”

“Stop being so defensive! I’m just trying to hit you with weapons.”

“The more knives you have the more valid you are.”

“She’s strong but she’s exhausted.”

“She loves moonlight and rainstorms and so many other things that have soul.”

“My darling, you can’t see it can you? How like the moon you are. Both of you so timid in yourselves; hiding pieces from the world. Then, there are those rare moments when you are both full, and it becomes hard to look away. You are beautiful.”

“Calm her chaos but never silence her storm.”

“She wears strength and darkness equally well. That girl has always been half Goddess, half Hell.”

“She has been through Hell, so believe me when I say, fear her when she looks into the fire and smiles.”

“She’s proof that you can walk through Hell and still be an angel.”

“She is both hellfire and holy water. And the flavour you taste depends on how you treat her.”

“Even the mountains can not hold all you have been carrying.”

“Storm with skin.”

“She’s thunderstorms”

“Kindness is a language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”

“Sometimes it takes only one act of kindness and caring to change a person’s life.”

“You have a heart of gold.”

“Butterflies are the Heaven-sent kisses of an angel.”

“She who is brave is free.”

“Clever as the Devil and twice as pretty.”

“Shut up. I wear heels bigger than your dick.”

“Girls who run in heels should be feared.”

“Family is everything to me.”

“She’s an old soul that believes in chivalry, romance, and love.”

“I hate getting flashbacks from things I don’t want to remember.”

“I run on coffee and grace.”

“I’m glad I’ve got boobs… the last thing I need is people making eye contact with me.”

“Tell me to put on my big girl panties one more time… and I’ll take off my thong and strangle you with it!”

“Please read all my posts in a sarcastic tone. You know, for full effect.”

“I have one nerve left and you’re dry-humping it, go away.”

“If I offend you, cry me a river. I’ll bring snacks and a raft. I will literally float down your tears, eating chips and working on my tan.”

“When she is happy, she can’t stop talking. When she is sad, she doesn’t say a word.”

“Music becomes my best friend when nobody else understands me.”

“Act like a lady, think like a boss.”

“I know I have friends but I feel I have no one to talk to about the shit that goes on in my head.”

“She was special. She combined a mean angel and a kind devil.”

“So much pain for someone so young.”

“She’s one of a kind.”

“Red lips and wine sips.”

“Brave girl, it’s time to love again.”

“She is intelligent.”

“Sometimes, when I say ‘I’m okay.’ I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight, and say, ‘I know you’re not.’ ”

“Because I’m not the kind of girl guys fall in love with.”

“I fear I will spend my life, waiting for a love story that doesn’t exist.”

“You’re a woman, use it; bring every man you meet to his motherfucking knees.”

“She denies it but, the truth is, she’s falling in love with him.”

“Hearing your heels click on the floor sounds like power.”

“She loves deeply, regardless of the love she gets back in return and it’s both her biggest strength and biggest weakness…”

“Experience raised her. Hurt taught her. Neither defined her.”

“She was not fragile like a flower was, she was fragile like a bomb.”

“Life is short; make every hair flip count.”

“I’ve always been someone who looks ‘too deep’ into something or someone. That’s because I realised from a young age that there’s always more than what meets the eye.”

“If I say ‘first of all’ Run away because I have prepared research, data, charts, and will destroy you.”

“Underestimate me, that’ll be fun.”

“You think I’m sarcastic? You should hear what I don’t say!”

“She’s a combination of sensitive and savage.”

“Stay classy, sassy and a bit bad assy.”

“She’s battling things her smile will never tell you about.”

 “Ain't you ever seen a princess be a bad bitch?”

“I was told I was dangerous… I asked why? They said ‘because you don’t need anyone.’ That’s when I smiled.”

“She’s been through hell and came out an angel. You didn’t break her darling, you don’t own that kind of power.”

“Watch me. I will go to my own sun and, if I am burned by the flames, I will fly on scorched wings.”

“Her messy hair is a visible attribute to her stubborn spirit. As she shakes it free, she smiles, knowing wild is her favourite colour.”

“She’s strong. But in the back of her mind she doesn’t think that she was meant to be this strong for this long. And she wonders if there is a man out there, somewhere, who understands this.”

“She’s not for everyone and she knows it. People find her different and strange. She dances in the rain, she laughs when she cries and loves through her pain. People fear the unknown and they never knew a girl like her.”

“Don’t tell a girl with fire in her veins and hurricane bones what she should and shouldn’t do. In the blink of an eye, she will shatter that ridiculous cage you attempt to build around her beautiful bohemian spirit.”

“You provoke her until she roars and then get upset at her for becoming the monster you created.”

“Rip out his ego with your fresh nails.”

“She isn’t the sunrise; she’s the fucking sun.”

“You can’t touch a woman who can wear pain like the grandest of diamonds around her neck.”

“Watch your tongue around her. She will bear her fangs and tear you apart with all the grace of a Queen.” 

“If you won’t embrace her madness, then you’ll never taste her magic.”

“Beauty may be dangerous but intelligence is lethal.”

“She is water. Powerful enough to drown you, soft enough to cleanse you, deep enough to save you.”

“Heavy is the crown and yet she wears it as if it were a feather. There is strength in her heart, determination in her eyes and the will to survive resides within her soul.”

“I wish that I could say that I am a light that never goes out, but I flicker from time to time.”

“Spoil me with loyalty. I can finance myself.”

“Shoutout to all the people with brown hair and brown eyes! We basic as fuck but we cute!”

“I feel a nap coming on.”

“Is horny an emotion?”

“I just really like thigh-highs.”

“Even though she looks innocent, she is really a perverted demon.”

“She didn’t sob or wail. Her pain was horribly discreet but as persistent and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound.”

“I don’t rise from the ashes, I make them. I’m the whole fucking fire.”

“Beautiful but destructive.”

“I’m aiming for the ‘she’s a badass and cute as hell but I wouldn’t touch her without asking’ look.”

“Loving me must be so fucking hard and I’m so sorry.”

“Some women are lost in the fire. Some women are built from it.”

“You glow differently when you’re actually happy.”

“She’s magic, that one.”

“Kicked out of Hell.”

“Red hair: the crown you never take off.”

“You’ve got a fire inside.”

“She doesn’t need a warrior, she is one. What she needs is a devout heart, and strong arms to hold her after her battles are won.”

“You are the love that came without warning: You had my heart before I could say no.”

“You want battle? I’ll give you war.”

“True evil is, above all things, seductive.”

“The Devil’s got nothing on me, my friend.”

“Haven’t I fallen far enough?”

“I’m not like them, but I can pretend.”

“I don’t like being told what to do.”

“Now I grow wings and rage, and learn how to kill.”

“Life is tough, my darling, but so are you.”

“Though she be little, she be fierce.”

“I know what this is; It’s just myself, talking to myself, about myself.”

“You underestimate my power.”

[just-come-baek]

get in, loser 2

Pairing: Taeyong x female!reader

Themes: smut | mafiaboss!taeyong | carthief!reader | streetracer!reader

Word count: 8.3k

Summary: As controversial as it is, it’s Taeyong’s order for me to participate in the most prestigious race of the underground. As one may expect, it is frowned upon by other gang members.

Warnings: disregard for police enforcement | illegal street racing | improper driving | violence | character death | taeyong being the ruthless mafia boss | poor stress management | drinking

A/N !REUPLOAD! sorry I fucked something up. Next parts shall be posted on Tuesdays every two weeks. 

***

Getting up early in the morning isn’t really my thing. I was the most productive during late evenings and nights, and the fact that I had to be ready unusually early fucked up my sleeping schedule. Hopefully, it was the first, and the last time my presence was requested at such an unholy hour. Right after getting introduced to my new workplace, they had to be flexible enough to let me adjust the work schedule to my preference.

Unfortunately, Taeyong didn’t specify how early Lucas wants to see me the next day.  I guessed it was around 7 o’clock in the morning – it was late enough for an early bird, yet early enough for someone who doesn’t really fancy getting up at sunrise.

Having parked my starling Fiat500 in front of the building, I saw a man. He was leaned against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette. It must’ve been Lucas. Who else could’ve been? It was the asscrack of dawn, for crying out loud!

“You’ve gotta be kidding me… that’s your car?” the man asked as he flicked the butt of the cigarette, stepping on it, grinding it against the ground, visibly galled by my cute feminine vehicle.

“It’s inconspicuous,” I commented, trying to make my point. Blending in after hours was one of the most crucial things in this profession, I didn’t want to go on and scream that I steal cars and race for a living.

“You’re late,” Lucas whispered. Under any other circumstances, I would roll my eyes, but right now, I just couldn’t. I was just staring at him, slowly checking him out. He was ridiculously handsome, and I tried my best not to drool. “I’m Lucas,” he said, sending me a playful smirk.

Politely, I introduced myself despite him already knowing who I was.

“That’s impressive,” Lucas commented, and I shrugged, not wanting to go through this once again. “How did you do it? It’s not that easy to steal Taeyong’s car, let alone Yuta’s,” he added, and I sighed, trying to come up with a vague and equivocal answer.

“What can I say? You’ve gotta have charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent.”

“Alright, I get it, keep your secrets,” Lucas voiced, biting his lips as if in deep thought. “Sooner or later, I’ll figure this out,” he promised and smiled, willing to take this secret with me to the grave. (I had a bad feeling in my gut, telling me Taeyong would be pissed if he found out the truth about the theft, and I was too cowardly to admit the facts.)

“Are we gonna stand here the whole day, or are you gonna show me around?” I challenged, and Lucas took a step to the side, gentlemanly letting me enter the car repair shop, following closely behind me.

“Ladies first,” he added, chuckling.

It wasn’t a typical car repair shop. The space was huge, and it could accommodate at least fifteen vehicles. On the inside, it resembled a car factory, but instead of assembling the cars, people were taking them apart.

What surprised me the most was the fact that I was the only female inside. Though I knew it was a stereotypically a male profession, men to women ratio was astounding. I didn’t mind it, though. I knew I could beat every single one of them. Gender didn’t matter at all.

“Let me introduce the guys you’ll be working with,” Lucas mentioned, and a few men stopped what they were doing to look at Lucas and me. “Please, meet Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin, and Mark,” Lucas introduced them to me, but they didn’t seem very happy to see me. If anything, they seemed a little bit hostile.

“Hi guys,” I said, smiling and waving at them, but their intimidating auras didn’t change. It was awful, and I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was going to work with them. They obviously didn’t like me and didn’t respect me as if worthy of the same position. And it was especially weird because I knew I was better than all of them combined.

Ignoring their angry glances, Lucas explained their roles in this division. Renjun, Haechan, and Chenle were in charge of tuning up the cars, making sure they’re up to the racing standards. Mark and Jaemin were stealing the cars and bringing them here, and Jeno and Jisung were racing. Later on, Lucas revealed I was assigned to both – car theft and racing, and of course, the boys had to voice their objection.

Apparently, they had never heard of multitasking.

According to them, it wasn’t fair for a rookie member to participate in the street races. This position had to be earned through hard work, and they just couldn’t comprehend how much effort I had put to prove my value to Taeyong.

Well… to be honest, I didn’t suspect any of the boys to ever personally talk to Taeyong.  I highly doubted they had an idea of what I had to go through to get recruited. They probably had never heard of Yuta, let alone been to his area and stolen one of his vehicles.

“I hope we will work together just fine,” I declared, though deep inside, I knew it wasn’t going to be a smooth ride. I was sure the boys were to make my time there miserable.

And, oh boy, I was right…

***

Somehow, I managed to survive a week at my new workplace without quitting. At some point, I was really close to doing so, yet then I remembered what I had gone through to work here, and this thought alone kept me going. The boys were an enormous pain in the ass, but it would definitely take much more than juvenile bullying to make me leave.

I was a lot of things, but definitely, not a quitter.

Having acted tough the whole week, I needed something to help me chill, and the only person I thought of was my best friend – Doyoung. I was a gang member now, but I knew it wouldn’t matter to him – it wouldn’t have any impact on our friendship.

Within an hour, I was already at his car repair shop. Not bothering to announce my arrival, I strolled inside, looking for him. It was already weekend. All of his employees were recharging their batteries for the upcoming week, so the slim pair of legs under the Nissan Maxima must’ve been Doyoung’s.

Smirking, I slammed my hands against the hood, startling him in the process. Swiftly, Doyoung rolled out from under the car, staring at me angrily, as if refraining himself from murdering me with bare hands.

“Jesus Christ,” he yelled when he saw my face, apparently relieved it was me. “Ever since I helped you with that gig, I have terrible anxiety,” he confessed, and I couldn’t blame him. I felt the same, fearing that someone might want to get rid of me with violence.

“Good thing I stopped by,” I mused, excited to reveal my amazing plans. “I was wondering if you would like to go on vacation with me – my treat. We haven’t spent all the money Taeyong gave me that time, and he hasn’t mentioned anything if he wants the rest of it back, so I thought we could go to the beach. What do you think?”

“More like Mr. Bad Boy’s treat… It does sound tempting, though. Where is the catch?” Doyoung asked suspiciously, knowing me all too well. “Are you on another stupid assignment?”

“Well… not exactly,” I answered, looking away, nervously playing with my fingers. “They’ve accepted me as the newest addition to the family, though some of them gotta warm up to me yet,” I explained, shrugging at the thought of the relentless bullying. “But that’s not the point. Taeyong told me to get rid of the car, and  I thought of kindly returning it to Yuta. It’s only logical I send him back the car plates, yet far from home because I don’t want anyone to trace it back to me.”

Judging by the look on Doyoung’s face, he wasn’t completely sold on this idea.

“It’s like killing two birds with one stone. We’ll go to the beach, post the plates to Yuta, and then enjoy the rest of the weekend, sipping drinks by the sea. It’s a two-minute risk-free adventure. What do you say? We both deserve some leisure…”

Staring straight ahead, Doyoung must’ve weighed all the pros and cons of my proposition. Ultimately he decided he deserves some alcohol drinks with cute little umbrellas in the glasses.

“What about the other car?” Doyoung asked, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“I’ll give it back as soon as we return.”

“Fine.”

“Great! Pack your suitcase, the plane takes off in four hours.”

As soon as we arrived, we made a short stop to mail the package to Yuta, praying for him not to trace it back to me. The parcel contained the Ferrari’s plates, a key to the storage room in Japan where Yuta’s vehicle had been kept, and a tiny piece of paper with a sorry written on it. Hopefully, once Yuta gets it back, he will forget about the car ever being stolen.

Later in the evening, we checked into the hotel I had booked, left the baggage, and hit the SPA. Having taken all available services, I was calm, I felt like a lotus flower. Doyoung, however, still was anxious and whiny.

“You need some vitamin D, my friend,” I told him, and he grimaced at me in disgust. “You know… there’s this man, his name is Jaehyun. He’s a guy from work, and I’m pretty sure he could help you let off some steam,” I offered, and Doyoung shook his head, sassily wrapping his lips around the straw, sipping on his third drink of the evening.

To be honest, I doubted Jaehyun swung for the same team, but both of them needed to get laid. Jaehyun because I was really close to start believing his gaze could be literally lethal, and Doyoung because he was so whiny and intractable to be around. I knew it wouldn’t ever work out, but I had to, at least, try.

“I appreciate the proposition, but I don’t hook up with gangsters,” Doyoung said, setting his drink on the counter. “You know what…” Doyoung started, and I rolled my eyes, knowing his further statement will be both funny and hurtful.

When tipsy, Doyoung would often state things harshly without even thinking about running around the bush. “Being your friend has become really stressful recently. It’s a matter of time until I go completely bold, and it will be exclusively your fault.”

“I know…” I agreed, sighing in helplessness. “I’ve been a terrible friend, I’m sorry,” I whispered, resting my head on Doyoung’s shoulder, reaching out to hold his hand. “I’ll never put you in danger again, I promise,” I added, acting way out of my character. Usually, I wasn’t this emotional, but I suspected it was coming from pretending to be badass all the time.

“OK, enough of the weeping, let’s buy some alcohol to go and go get drunk on the beach, waiting for the sunrise,” Doyoung pushed my off of his arm and jumped off the barstool.

“That’s the spirit!”

***

“Gather round people,” Lucas yelled as soon as he entered the car repair shop. As always, he looked like a complete snack, yet I chose not to comment on that. Though we barely spoke with one another, everybody knew how big his ego was, and I didn’t want to inflate it even more.

“What is it?” Haechan whined at Lucas, being annoyed by the interruption.

“The color festival,” Lucas revealed, and everybody grew silent at the mention of the event.

Though a regular person wouldn’t understand what’s that big of a deal, to a car racer, it was an event of the year. It’s an annual the most prestigious car race in the country – participation alone is an honor. It’s every racer’s dream to take part and win, earning a shit load of money and fame. The participation fee is 50 grand per head, after all. Every year the date is different, and only the best racers are talented enough to be a part of it. No wonder Taeyong’s gang will have its representative.

“It takes place this Friday, and Taeyong has already decided who’s gonna represent us this year,” Lucas announced, and the boys started to guess whether it would be Jisung or Jeno. If I had to nominate anyone, it would be Jeno – his drifting skills were no joke. “As I was saying, it’s Taeyong’s direct wish that our special snowflake represents us in the competition,” Lucas specified, and the boys looked at me the way Jaehyun did – with hatred and disgust.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” I chuckled drily, but the boys didn’t change their attitudes.

No way! Taeyong couldn’t… he wouldn’t. Well... I expected him to respect me after what I had done, but this… it was too much. Some drivers worked their entire lives mastering their techniques to participate, and right now, I felt as if I had my chance served on a silver platter. The boys must’ve felt the same way.

I deserved to participate, but Jeno and Jisung did as well. I wouldn’t mind sitting this one out. Their bullying was giving me a headache as it was, another reason to pick on me was the last thing I needed at the moment.

“It can’t be,” Jaemin stated, too perplexed to voice a longer statement.

“Well… it must be, Taeyong’s orders,” Lucas added with a smirk on his sexy lips, ignoring all complaints. “Guys, behave, it’s not my decision to make. You can always try next year,” he tried to console the whining boys, but it didn’t seem to work. If anything, it only multiplied the anger they felt towards me.

“It’s impossible,” I muttered, but the boys didn’t pay any attention to what I was trying to say, “I’m pretty sure it’s not final. I’ll talk to him, I think I can change his mind,” I continued, but once again my words were muffled by the loud white noise of complaining.

“You can’t just call him,” Lucas remarked, trying to remind me of my position in the hierarchy. Now, when I was a valid member of the organization, I had to follow the rules, and Lucas was my superior to whom I was obligated to report everything back. Talking to Taeyong would be highly unprofessional; I had to stick to the code.

“Can you try to persuade him?” Jisung asked, full of hope.

Lucas laughed at Jisung’s question as if it was one of the funniest things he heard in years.

“To be honest, I don’t give a fuck who’s gonna ride this year,” Lucas started truthfully, and I gasped at the harshness of his words. He didn’t sugarcoat nor beat around the bush. “It’s Taeyong’s decision, and I am in no place to question his choice, so beat it.”

His words successfully shut everyone up; Lucas was mean and straight-forward, but it had to be done. Perhaps his leading skills were a little bit rough around the edges, but they managed to get the work done.

“You,” Lucas exclaimed, looking at me. “Meet me here before the race; we’ll pick up the car,” he added, turning around, leaving me alone with the boys, so they could take out all frustrations on me.

“Fantastic.”

***

As expected, the boys, Jeno and Jisung in particular, were giving me hell. It was obvious they were unhappy with Taeyong’s decision, yet I shouldn’t be the receiving end of their relentless bullying. If I could, I’d pay Taeyong a visit and persuade him to change his mind, but just like Lucas said, I was on the very bottom of the gang hierarchy.

At this point, I’d call it quits. Unfortunately, I was too far in the game to bow out. Right now, I could only endure their harassment in hopes of quickly getting promoted, leaving them far behind. It wouldn’t be the most challenging thing I had done for the gang’s sake.

It was a Thursday night. Within 24 hours, I would compete in the most infamous race of the year, and I was beyond mortified. I had drunk half a dozen mugs of double lemon balm, yet the stress was still eating me from the inside out.

It was oddly quiet. Usually, at this time of night, something was going on, but tonight, it was silent. Without any white noise, one could hear a pin drop.

Everything suggested I was alone in the car repair shop. Having slammed down the hood, I wiped my hands in the cloth and looked around. Where was everybody? Did they forget to add me to their group chat? Did they go out for a drink without telling me?

I strolled through their stations, yet I didn’t find anybody. They really left me behind. That wasn’t cool. We weren’t best friends, but I deserved to know if there was a staff outing. Maybe this time around, I’d pass, given the plans I had for tomorrow, but any other time, I’d be down to have a beer with them.

Perhaps, they would warm up to me if we could spend some quality time together.

Once again, I looked around the space and decided to call it a day. There was nothing urgent that I had to finish, so I closed up. I really wanted to come back home, relax, and psych myself up for the upcoming race.

Yawning, I slowly made my way to my car, which was parked two blocks away from the car repair shop. Lucas had suggested it was for the best if the boys didn’t see my vehicle, since it would definitely become another reason to pick on me. Though I didn’t care what they thought of me, I ultimately decided to follow Lucas’ advice. He was my superior for a reason.

The narrow street was barely lit, yet I made my way through it with ease. I had the route memorized by heart, even though I wasn’t completely familiar with this city district.

Once the car conjured in my line of vision, I reached into my backpack, fishing for the keys.

Unfortunately, before I managed to find them, somebody grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me onto the ground. Stupefied, I looked up and saw half a dozen of persons, each of whom clad in a black hoodie and a face mask.

I was being mugged in a dark alley.

The survival instincts kicked in. The adrenaline rush hit me in a matter of seconds. Just like mothers who can lift cars to save their children, I was in a combat mode, ready to fight off all of them. I was outnumbered, but when driven on hormones, I thought I stood a chance to defend myself and kick their asses.

Quickly, I got back on my feet and took a few steps to the back to distance myself from the attackers and strategize my next move. My first idea was to run away, but that wasn’t going to work out. Two men with crowbars crept out of the shadows, depriving me of the only escape route I could think of.

“OK, think,” I whispered under my breath. There were seven of them, two of whom had crowbars, while one of them pulled out a knife. Seven against one, it didn’t sound fair. Back in the day, I had taken some self-defense lessons, but it was a long time ago. If I had some skills unconsciously memorized, they would surely be rusty.

Perhaps, I could bullshit my way out of it.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, but none of the men even flinched. They were frozen in their spots, probably waiting for the best moment to attack. “I don’t have any money on me, but I can give you my wheels,” I proposed, but once again, I didn’t get any reaction. “It’s a measly car, but I got it checked by a mechanic a few days ago. It’s as good as new.”

It was like talking to a wall. I could run my mouth, yet I would never receive any reply.

Plan A didn’t work out.

They weren’t cooperative enough for me to implement plan B.

I had no choice but to go with plan C, which consisted of fighting back, hoping they wouldn’t beat me to death. It wasn’t the most optimistic scenario, but it’s what my mind came up with after doing the math. It wasn’t a fair fight, what were the odds of me winning?

Close to zero.

When I was about to pick which guy I should attack first, the one in front of me made a cutting throat gesture. It did freak me out, but on cue, I ran up to the one with the crowbar and kicked him in the nuts before he managed to smack me with the metal. Instantly, he crumbled down on his knees, dropping the weapon on the ground.

It was my opportunity to try to even the chances.

Everything happened so fast. One second I was wiggling my body from side to side in an attempt to dodge the attack, while a moment later, I was swinging the crowbar like a baseball bat. In all honesty, I wasn’t that bad, I managed to omit most of their punches.

Unfortunately, there were too many of them. At this point, I knew I wouldn’t win. The least I could do was to try to minimize the damage.

Though I could feel a couple of bruises on my thighs forming up and my blood oozing from my shoulder, I gathered enough strength to swing the crowbar at the man, hitting him straight on the neck, knocking him out. As soon as the man’s head collided with the ground, everybody stopped in their tracks, trying to register what just happened.

They couldn’t believe that a woman successfully fought back. It was a small victory, though. Six more angry men wanted to mug me. Or rape me. Or worse.

“You bitch,” one of them yelled, going towards me with a knife as if he wanted to gut me.

I saw everything in slow motion. He ran to me, screaming, and I tightened my grip on the crowbar, getting ready to knock him unconscious, too.

Before he managed to get close enough for me to hit him, we all got blinded by the lights. There was another car in the alley, scaring the men away. In an instant, they picked up their stunned friend and ran away, disappearing in the distance.

My vision couldn’t accommodate this amount of light, so I couldn’t precisely see my savior. Unfortunately, I was unable to see the person behind the wheel, but the vehicle looked like a Ford. Too bad it drove off before I could have a better look.

Worrying the thugs might return, I limped to my car and locked myself in. My pulse was slowly getting back to normal, and the adrenaline was wearing off, making me feel the pain. Each bruise and cut was hurting me, but I inhaled, flooring the accelerator.

***

When I woke up around noon, I was sore all over. Though I had taken some painkillers and put on ointment on the fragile skin, I still felt like shit. I wasn’t the best at treating wounds, and I discovered this fact about myself in the worst timing ever.

How was I supposed to win the most meaningful race of the year when I felt excruciating pain when I had to stretch my arm? How was I supposed to operate the gearbox in this state?

By the time I had to leave my apartment, I felt only slightly better. High on meds, I drove carefully to the car repair shop, expecting Lucas to already be there. It was typical Lucas – giving vague instructions, yet at the same time, demanding precision, or in this case, punctuality.

Gingerly, I parked the vehicle outside the garage, noticing Lucas leaned against the wall, smoking what I hope was just a cigarette. Putting a smile on my face, I undid the seatbelt and exited the car, waving at my superior.

“What the hell are you wearing? Are you going to a race or Lazytown?” Lucas yelled, amused by my outfit. I could bet it wasn’t a typical outfit for street-racing.

Tonight, I chose to wear a pastel pink wig that reached down to my shoulders, a mini dress in the same shade of pink, and a pair of white combat shoes. I had my reasons to wear this type of clothing, though.

First of all – diversion; I hoped the other contestants would underestimate me upon seeing my eccentric outfit. Looks might be deceiving, and at this point, I couldn’t wait to bask in the glory of their judging stares. In this outfit, no one would think of me as a threat.

Second of all – bruises; no one paid them any attention because all the curious gazes were focused on extravagant clothes. Moreover, I could apply another layer of ointment if needed because the skimpy outfit allowed me easy access to my bare skin.

Third of all – Taeyong; pink was his favorite color and it matched his current hairstyle. It was a bold statement to demonstrate whose gang I was representing in the race.

“The outfit is going to serve its purpose, so let me live,” I murmured, not in the mood for friendly banter. Lucas was ridiculously hot, and I respected him, but right now, I didn’t feel like joking around. “What car do you have for me?”

Lucas pulled the sliding doors to the side, letting me in, following right behind me. Though I tried to control my walk, Lucas quickly caught on.

“What’s happened? Why are you walking like that?” Lucas asked in concern, and I told him everything about the men, their attempt to mug me, and the savior. I didn’t even fail to mention how I knocked one of the guys out with a powerful hit in the neck. “I don’t really think it was some random dudes,” he concluded, taking a closer look at my bruises and cuts.

“Huh?” I mused in confusion.

“I think someone wanted to make sure you’re not participating in the race,” Lucas stated. I creased my eyebrows, unable to make sense out of his suspicion. It was ridiculous. Though I knew how to race, my name wasn’t widely known in the illegal underground racing circle. “It can’t be a coincidence you’re getting attacked one night before the event.”

Well… Lucas had a point.

“Can you race?” Lucas inquired, his voice coated in worry.

I did not expect that, but it felt nice. Lucas, being my superior, looked after me, and it was the first time I felt like a legitimate member of the gang.

“I’ve taken a lot of pills, I can pull through,” I stated, smiling half-heartedly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, though I could already feel the medication wear off. This insignificant setback wasn’t going to stop me. I had something to prove.

“Alright then,” Lucas said, following me to the back. “Taeyong has personally chosen these cars. You can pick any of them,” he added, and I looked at the beautiful machines in amazement. “Oh, before I forget, he also said you get to keep it if you win.”

“For real?” I asked, and Lucas nodded, smiling at my reaction. “Sweet.”

Now, I really had to win.

Taeyong had selected three vehicles for me to use: BMW M2, Toyota Supra, and Porsche 718 Cayman. The three of them were white and shiny, and it was a real dilemma.

“Tough choice,” I whispered, struggling to make the ultimate decision. Each vehicle had incredible features, and it was impossible to pick the best one. It felt like having a birthday on the same day as Christmas.

“Be quick, we’ve got to go,” Lucas urged me, tapping his foot against the concrete floor impatiently. “Make up your mind, woman.”

“OK, fine, fine, let’s go with Toyota,” I answered, and Lucas put his hand into the pocket of his jeans, fished out three sets of keys, and threw one for me to catch.

“Let’s go, then,” he added, quickly making his way to the passenger seat.

“How does it feel like to win such a race?” I inquired, breaking the silence inside the car. I was speeding to the abandoned airport, while Lucas was texting with somebody, completely ignoring me. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to bond with him, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. Three years ago, being the youngest participant, Lucas had won the race, and I really wanted to know how it felt to make history.

Who knew? Maybe I’d be the first woman to win this race this year.

“Fine, I guess,” Lucas answered dismissively, not wanting to engage in the conversation.

“Oh,” I sighed, deciding not to pry further. We would have other opportunities to talk about it.

Once we arrived, Lucas told me to park the vehicle on the start line. The race would start in an hour, and until then, I had to mingle with other drivers and make my presence known. It was time for the rich men to make their bets.

“Hmm… that’s strange,” Lucas commented when I turned off the engine. “Taeyong’s here.”

“Is that strange?”

“He hasn’t attended such an event ever since he had won it five years ago,” Lucas explained, and I nodded my head, registering the new information. When Lucas put it like that, it really seemed out of character. “Interesting,” he added, deep in thought.

When Lucas got out of the car, I searched for Taeyong in the crowd. Thankfully, it wasn’t that difficult. This time around, Taeyong was wearing a green tracksuit set, thick-rimmed black Fendi sunglasses, and a pair of simple white sneakers. With his pink-ish hair and a custom-made Dior purse loosely hanging off his shoulder, he did not fit in this picture packed with gangers. Taeyong looked like a stray 4-year-old who got lost in a dangerous alley.

Following Lucas’ example, I exited the vehicle, and leaned against the hood, posing as a confident yet quirky driver. Though I expected everyone to underestimate my skills, deep inside, I wished to be recognized as a serious competition.

Looking around, I stared at Taeyong and deliberately ignored Jaehyun’s death glares. Even from afar, I could sense he hated my guts. I suspected I was the reason why Taeyong was here right now, and Jaehyun was unmistakably displeased by it.

With my eyes locked on Taeyong, I noticed Lucas joined him and whispered something into his ear. Whatever Lucas had told him, it made Taeyong visibly angry.

“Attention racers,” a female voice spoke through the speakers, obtaining everyone’s attention. “The race shall begin in thirty minutes. We ask all racers to pick up the GPS device box at the judge’s lounge. Thank you for your attention and good luck.”

Every participant had to install the device in one’s car. Once set in the vehicle, the racer could see this year’s route and all checkpoints. The fastest one to clear all the checkpoints and come back to the airport would win the competition.

Following all the instructions, I got ready for the race. In a few minutes, twelve cars would leave the airport in an attempt to chase their dreams of fame and success.

I was sitting comfortably in my seat, and though on the outside, I seemed calm, the courtesy of painkillers, I was freaking out internally. I didn’t even notice someone knock on the window, making me jump in shock.

“Jesus Christ, Lucas, you scared the shit out of me,” I cursed, rolling down the window.

“I just wanted to wish you good luck,” he added, smiling genuinely. “I spoke with Taeyong, and he would like to talk to you after the race in his mansion.”

“Oh.”

And with that, Lucas walked away, letting me relax some more before the race. I just had enough time to turn on my playlist, which consisted of Britney Spears’ biggest hits. It always helped me to uplift my mood, and I really needed that.

“Three,” the woman counted out loud, and all participants turned on their engines.

“Two.”

“One.”

At once, all the cars surged forward, and people cheered enthusiastically, not even muffling the loud engine roars.

The route had seven checkpoints in total, and since the race was called the color festival, each stop was named after the rainbow color. There was no specified order in which the contestants ought to clear them, yet most of them chose to drive east, toward the indigo checkpoint.

I, on the other hand, decided to head west. The more drivers in one area, the more chances of dirty tricks, and I didn’t want to end up getting pushed out of the route into the gutter.

Only four racers mirrored my actions, and out of the five of us, I was leading. With ease, I cleared the green checkpoint, but one Britney song later, the driver of the red 2020 Lexus SC caught up to me, driving straight into my back left lights, making me lose control of the vehicle for a second. Thankfully, I managed to get a hold of the situation before I drove into the dangerous turn.

This bastard scratched my car and cleared the yellow checkpoint before me.

I couldn’t let him get away with it.

Flooring the accelerator, I quickly found myself on the right side of the Lexus, staring at the driver. I recognized him in an instant. It was Felix, and he was infamous for dangerous driving. It didn’t matter how many drivers he had to send to the hospital to win the race.

Perhaps, it would be reasonable to let him be, but I was high on meds, and the logical solution fled my mind before I managed to memorize it. The only sensible reaction I could muster in the heat of the moment was hitting him before he hit me again.

Sticking my tongue out for Felix to see, I abruptly turned to the right, pushing him out of the road. Unfortunately, I didn’t hit him hard enough. Before I drove into another sharp turn, I saw him in the rearview mirror. He was back on the lane, trying to catch up with the rest of the participants.

“Too high, can’t come down, losing my mind, spinning ‘round and round, do you feel me now?” I sang along with Britney, driving through the blue checkpoint.

I was almost halfway through the race, and it was about the time when I ran out of luck. I could hear a loud siren ringing in the distance, followed by red and blue lights. It couldn’t be a good sign. Competing against lunatics was challenging, yet on top of that, I had to lose the police.

My first thought was to let the other drivers catch up to me, and then hope the police would chase them, but I quickly realized it was a dumb idea. The racers would out-speed the police cruisers anyway; it was stupid to purposefully slow down.

The next checkpoint was near, and it was my priority. I’d deal with the police by the end of the race. Of course, only if the police cruisers could handle such speed. It was doubtful, but I chose not to underestimate them.

“Fuck, it can’t be,” I cursed when I noticed the red Lexus again. “He is stubborn,” I added, once again flooring the accelerator, trying to keep as much distance from Felix as possible. This car would be mine if I won, and I didn’t want any more damage.

Then, a few seconds later, another car appeared a couple of hundred meters behind me.

Too bad the police were too incompetent to catch them. The sirens were still ringing in the distance, so it only meant they didn’t give up yet. I didn’t think they stood a chance against any of the sports cars in the race, but it was admirable that they still tried.

The red checkpoint was a couple meters ahead, and I reasoned I needed to step up my game. In order to win, I had to think out of the box. I had to do something they wouldn’t dare. I couldn’t play it safe if I really wanted to win.

Having cleared the red checkpoint, I made a U-turn without slowing down. If it wasn’t for the breaks, the force would pull me out of the lane, sending me flying off the cliff. Felix and the other guy were visibly confused when I started driving right at them.

Going over 180 km/h, I passed them and the police cruiser before I made an abrupt turn, driving through run-down, abandoned properties. Very few people knew this short-cut, and I hoped it would give me the advantage I desperately needed.

With no problem, I cleared the orange checkpoint.                

Only two more to go, I told myself, trying to uplift my mood.

The violet checkpoint resembled a war zone. Three cars were sitting on the side of the road, all scratched and damaged. Compared to this psycho who had done it, Felix was a harmless kitten. Thankfully, he hadn’t chosen to follow the same path as me. It made me sick to think I could be inside of one of these wrecked cars.

Or it was the meds overload in my system.

I couldn’t be sure.

Having passed the final checkpoint, I noticed a sports car. It was heading the same direction, so I concluded it was one of my rivals. The neon green Porsche Boxter was behind me, but it was catching up incredibly fast.

I had to get my shit together, or I was going to lose.

I could see the finishing line in the distance. Unfortunately, the green Porsche was right there, on my left side. Neither of us wanted to lose, and almost at the same time, we turned, smashing against each other. Sparks were flying everywhere, the sound of scratching metal was ringing loudly, yet no one dared to let go.

If I didn’t push him out of my way, we would tie, and this result was unacceptable. With my foot on the accelerator, I turned the steering wheel to the right as hard as I could. The vehicle barely moved to the side, yet it was still making progress.

Maybe it was pure luck, but the Porsche ran over something on the road, and its driver lost control of the car. It was my time to shine, so once again I turned to the right. The vehicles made a 90-degree turn, which resulted in me being the first one to cross the finishing line.

Oh my god, I won.

These guys could suck it because I beat them!

When I got out of the car, Taeyong and Jaehyun were gone. Lucas was the only familiar face in the crowd, and he actually ran up to me to congratulate me. “You won,” Lucas said, beaming. His smile quickly faded away upon seeing how wrecked the car was. “It was a new car,” he cried, calculating the damage.

“It’s still new,” I remarked, but Lucas didn’t find it amusing. Well… I could relate. After all, it was my car. I knew the second the painkillers wear off, I was going to in pain because of what I did to the vehicle. Hopefully, Doyoung would help me get it fixed.

A lady in a deep-cut bikini and sun-kissed tan walked up to me to hand me a bag of cash and a bottle of champagne.

“Everybody, make some noise for this year’s winner,” she screamed into the microphone, making the crowd go crazy.

I was smiling like a lunatic. People were cheering, and it was all for me.

Though I was craving champagne, I knew it wasn’t the best idea to drink it. The pills mixed with alcohol would kill me, so I opted for an alternative celebration. Swinging my arm, I threw the bottle at the car, smashing it against the scratched doors.

“Christening the car seemed appropriate,” I commented when I saw Lucas trying to process what I just did. “At this point, one more tear doesn’t make a difference.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Lucas said lifelessly, staring with concern at the vehicle. “You better go. Don’t keep Taeyong waiting. He’s not a patient person.”

***

Having parked in front of Taeyong’s big ass mansion, I made my way to the main entrance and rang the bell. The doors opened a few seconds later, and Jaehyun looked at me from head to toe, stepping to the side, letting me in.

It was my first time in Taeyong’s palace, and the interior was breathtaking. Everything looked expensive, and everyone must’ve felt the wow effect during their first visit. Though I knew he had a shit load of money, witnessing his wealth first hand was an unforgettable experience.

“Stay here, I’ll get Taeyong,” Jaehyun ordered, and I smiled sheepishly, not wanting to mess with someone who could easily murder me. “Don’t touch anything,” Jaehyun added as he turned around, catching me red-handed on trying to brush my fingers against the sculpture, which was set on a coffee table.

Two minutes later, Taeyong joined me in the spacious living room.

“Lucas told me you won,” he spoke as he plopped down onto a leather couch, putting his hands into the pocket of his disgusting green tracksuit. “Good job.”

“Is that why you wanted to see me? To congratulate me?” I asked out loud, wanting to smack myself the moment the words left my mouth. Of course, Taeyong didn’t want to congratulate me; he had invited me to his mansion before the race even began.

“No,” he replied shortly, and I smiled sheepishly, trying to forget this incident. “You know what I will never tolerate?” Taeyong asked, and I sighed in thought.

“I don’t know… Hmm… it’s a wild guess, but is it Hawaiian pizza?”

“No,” Taeyong denied, smirking at my random guess. “I will never tolerate treason, doll.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to figure out what he meant. I hadn’t done anything to betray him, yet he still somehow found something to punish me for. No way, it wasn’t possible. Had he figured out how I really had stolen Yuta’s car?

Fuck.

“Come on, doll. Let me show you,” Taeyong whispered, standing up. With his eyes on me, he smiled and stretched his hand. Anxiously, I let him hold his palm around mine as he led me to the basement.

It wasn’t a good omen.

Despite all of my achievements, Taeyong was going to kill me.

“The pink really suits you,” Taeyong spoke out of the blue when we slowly made our way downstairs. “I really like this hair on you,” he added, playing with the ends of my wig.

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d like it,” I answered, trying not to show how intimidated I was.

“Oh, I do, doll,” he smirked, pushing a pair of big pine doors open, stepping to the side, letting me in first.

Inside the room were seven men tied to the chairs with a piece of cloth wrapped around their eyes. Since there was only one light bulb, it took me a while to recognize them.

They were my colleagues from the garage. What the hell were they doing here? Why had Taeyong imprisoned them? What had they done? It was them who had betrayed Taeyong? No, it didn’t make any sense. He wouldn’t have invited me if it was about them.

“I don’t understand…” I commented, my eyes focused on the tied men in front of me. The moment when I looked at Jisung, I saw a wound on his neck.

Then it hit me.

It was them.

They had tried to kill me last night.

“As I said, I cannot tolerate treason,” Taeyong voiced as he began to rip the makeshift blindfolds off their faces. “Working against the gang is unacceptable, and you dared to hurt one of your own,” he spoke, and I trembled, afraid to witness what’s going to happen next. “Who came up with this stupid plan?”

Silence.

“Alright then,” Taeyong concluded through gritted teeth. It was the first time I saw him this angry, and I was scared. I’d shit my pants if I were the reason for his wrath. “Come here, doll,” he ordered, wanting me to join him. “Pick your weapon,” he told me, and I looked at him in confusion. What did I need a weapon for?

I looked to the right and saw pegboard tool storage on the wall. It was an impressive collection of torture weapons, and Taeyong wanted me to use them on the traitors. It was wrong on so many levels, and I really didn’t want to do it, but the perspective of wronging Taeyong seemed even worse. I would rather hurt them than let Taeyong hurt me.

“We don’t have a whole night, doll,” Taeyong urged me, and I grabbed the first thing which was in my arms’ reach. It happened to be a hammer. “Excellent choice; who should we punish first?” Taeyong asked, resting his arm over my shoulder, smiling like a maniac. Without any doubt, it was to bring him a lot of pleasure.

“I don’t know…”

“Alright, then,” Taeyong smiled in amusement before he started to sing the eeny, meeny, miny, moe counting rhyme to select the first victim. At first, I didn’t look, but once Taeyong stopped singing, I opened my eyes to see that his finger was pointing at Haechan.

“Do what you gotta do, doll,” Taeyong ordered happily, leaning against the wall, making sure he had the best view at the scene unfolding in front of him.

I wanted to cry, but I tried my best not to. As a part of a gang, it was inappropriate to show vulnerability. I didn’t want Taeyong to revoke my membership, especially when the only way to leave the gang was through excruciating death.

“Where should I start?” I asked myself under my breath, having no idea how torturing worked. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a way of inflicting the least amount of pain, while maintaining the expected level of Taeyong’s satisfaction.

Having closed my eyes, I swung my arm, hitting Haechan’s palm with the hammer, making him groan in pain. “You bitch,” he cursed, and I repeated the blow a couple of times until his hand looked like a smashed pomegranate.

Haechan was yelling in pain, Taeyong was chuckling in amusement, and I tried my best to refrain myself from crying. Though I didn’t particularly like Haechan, and he had been a real pain in the ass with the bullying, he didn’t deserve such punishment. How was he supposed to work at the garage without his dominant hand? His career was basically over. It was a dick move to attack me, and though I was awfully petty, the punishment was too severe.

“Who came up with this stupid plan?” Taeyong questioned again, yet none of the boys dared to speak. Not even Haechan, who was in a tremendous amount of pain. “Here, hold this,” he added, handing me a baseball bat, “I got bored of the hammer.”

Obediently, I grabbed the baseball bat and hit Haechan in the stomach until he started coughing blood on my pink dress. “What the fuck?” I cursed, getting angry at the minor inconvenience.

“Stop it, you’ll kill him,” Jisung yelled, trying to shimmy himself out of the ties. “I did it. I told them to beat her up. She didn’t deserve to ride in this race,” he carried on, and Taeyong sighed, walking up to Jisung nonchalantly with his hands loosely tucked in the pockets.

“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” Taeyong asked as he bent a little and caressed Jisung’s chin. “I really appreciate your honesty,” he added before he pulled out a gun and shot him in the head.

It was hard to process, but he really did shoot Jisung.

“Good job, doll,” Taeyong congratulated me with a smile before he fired his gun once again, this time shooting through Haechan’s forehead. “What? He was useless without his hand anyway,” he commented upon seeing my shocked reaction.

“You’re not gonna kill them, are you?” I quietly asked as I leaned against Taeyong’s frame, clinging to his chest. None of them deserved to die, yet I hoped Taeyong would spare the remaining five.

“No, I think it was enough for them to learn their lesson,” Taeyong revealed, and I sighed in relief, glad the bloodshed was over. It was the first time I saw somebody get killed, and it was a morbid sight. I wouldn’t mentally handle the situation if he decided to murder them all.

“Can we go now? The blood makes me sick,” I confessed, and Taeyong once again wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulled me to his side, and led outside. Surprisingly, regardless of what I had seen a while ago, his hug felt genuine. “I have a question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“How did you know it was them?”

Taeyong smirked, “who do you think was in that car that scared them off?”

“You?” I asked, cocking up my eyebrow, trying to process the newfound information.

“No, what I would be doing there?” Taeyong denied, making me even more confused. “I told Jaehyun to pick you up and bring to my mansion. However, when he saw you were attacked, he drove off and hunted them down.”

“I guess I owe him big time.”

[notfeelingthyaster]

Imagine (based on the incomplete fanfic Son of the Underworld) (Son of Hades! Percy AU) (5/5) or (5/10)

Hey so, this is the last part of PJO - I follow into HOO, so before you read this, check on the masterpost - and read the warnings before proceeding :)) Good reading!

Annabeth comes to him, at the end of his fifteenth birthday party, and shows her Daedalus laptop. There's a document open in it, and it's labeled Achilles' Curse.

Percy doesn't read it - he hates reading, in any way or form or language - but she does, out loud.

"I'll think about it"

They have a year. Most of them, even those who aren't year-rounders, are going back to camp, to draw battle plans and stock on the armory.

He feels kinda selfish - for a whole five seconds before he remembers he'll probably die next summer, so he just shrugs it off - Percy deserves this year.

They all leave to go back to camp. Nico seems conflicted over something - but Perseus doesn't question it, there's enough bad blood between them.

Paola is really cool - and Sally really loves her. It's kind of bizarre at first, to see his Mom dating his teacher - and of a subject he hates - but Paola is calm and well-tempered and she laughs at his stupid ass jokes.

He visits Persephone afterward - and it really feels like he has three moms to fulfill his lack of a father - well, he is absolutely grateful for the women in his life.

Percy isn't truly in good terms with his father. The man doesn't really seem to care much for him as a person - he is much more of a trophy son.

Perseus loathes being a trophy son, but at least he has someone to help with his powers - not something a lot of half-bloods can claim.

So he goes back to school with Rachel, and they pretend everything is normal. He tells her about his quests - all three of them. He thinks she understands him better now.

He opens up to her. Tells her about Annabeth - the adrenaline-fueled kiss - and Rachel stops talking with him for a week.

She apologizes when she comes back. She needed to figure some things up - firstly, the redhead tells him she is probably asexual - and maybe aromantic too, but she is not certain because the internet wasn't really clear about that.

Then Rachel confesses that she is not jealous of him in a romantic way - she is envious of his friendship with Annabeth. Percy is her first genuine friend that really appreciates her.

This is the first grudge Perseus lets go for real before it even takes place - Rachel didn't leave him because of teenage drama, she ignored him out of confusion. Everyone is allowed space - he knows this better than anyone.

They don't kiss anymore. Not because Rachel doesn't like it - no, she is all for it - but because Percy is starting to think kisses should mean something - he is saving them.

They kiss once - when Rachel father calls for the first time this year - not to ask about her, but to tell Rachel he found this amazing all-girls school. To Percy, kisses mean comfort.

They cuddle a lot, though. These past few years of fear have made Percy very touch-starved.

It's sophomore year - and Percy is in five AP classes: Macroeconomics&Microeconomics, Statistics, Calculus AB, Physics 1, and Comparative Government and Politics.

He is planning on taking both AP Computer Science classes, Psychology, Physics 2, and Calculus BC next year; leaving only Electricity&Magnetism, Mechanics, Chemistry, and World History for his senior year.

If he lives, he is working on a tight schedule here. He doesn't know what he wants yet - and if he is in constant danger, it's already pretty lucky he can do high school - but probably something with Math.

Rachel says fourteen AP courses are ambitious - that he'll burn out. But math comes to him easily enough - it's in his blood.

She is also overworking: She is taking AP Environmental Studies, Art History, Drawing, 2-D Art and Design, and English Literature and Composition.

They complete each other. Rachel is planning on taking as many Art, History, and English courses as she can - he is taking as many Physics, Math, and Science as he can handle.

(She is also going to take on Japanese studies for some reason - probably for her GPA, but Perseus just teases her that she is getting too invested in anime)

Perseus doesn't care about languages anymore - the only languages that matter to him are C++ and JavaScript now.

They study together, they take naps together, they climb to the roof together, they flee school to visit Sally together - he is the Pinky to her Brain, the Scooby to her Shaggy, the Lois Lane to her Superman, the Robin to her Batman.

They look like troublemakers - They are honor roll students, but she is always with ripped pants dirty with paint, and he is always full of flowers everywhere, even in his muddy converses - a cliche to kill all cliches.

They're both nerds - he is the classic one, all polo shirts now, the first chair for every number-related class - and she is the artsy one - there's a brush behind her ear and her hair is so messy that half the time it covers her face.

Paola gifts him a pair of cheap frames without lenses once - saying it adds to the aesthetic - he totally uses them.

Persephone just makes him flower-crowns, and giggles when he matches them with his polo shirts.

When winter comes, he goes back to his hoodies and sweaters and gloves - to find out he doesn't miss them a lot.

Rachel introduces him to polaroids - and they look eerily pretty in the winter, her hair looking like blood spilling over the snow - and he loves it.

If he survives - he can feel Rachel slapping him - when he survives, his college credits will be remarkable. The idea of doing SATs makes him want to cry - reading always does - but he'll get somewhere good - he knows it. Perhaps Stanford. Or NYU. Or the dream of his life, MIT.

He is living his life to the fullest - he starts reading comic books, he gets really (really) into Tony Stark once Iron Man 1 comes out (even if he has to kill at least three monsters just to go to the movies), he plants trees and Rachel starts teaching him how to play her ukulele - but half his mind is still on the upcoming war.

Christmas vacation comes - and he goes to visit Camp Half-Blood, before heading back to his mom. It's quite memorable, if only by the fact that Nico Di Angelo freaking betrays him.

He tells Percy to come to the Winter Solstice with him. Most of the campers are not going - the war effort is in an all-time high - but Percy has never gone before. Hades will be there - it'll be great!

Perseus should absolutely be less surprised with the outcome - seeing that Nico is inviting him in Cabin 1, post-dinner, and they don't even stop to talk to Chiron about it.

But Percy goes. Because Percy wants to make amends.

There's no time to really talk to anyone. They travel in Blackjack for the Empire State Building - and it's fine.

They go up to Olympus, Nico shows him everything in the god's land, the temples are a work of art, if not kind of old, and the meeting is kind of okay, even if the gods are squabbling children.

Then the gods leave, and Perseus thinks they're leaving too.

"My father needs a word with you"

Perseus feels the betrayal claw on him. There are no shadows in the white hall, there's no way for him to escape. Nico looks apologetic - Percy wants to clock him in the face.

"He promised to tell me more about my mother" Nico pleads "He will tell me more about where I've come from. Please, Percy."

Nico is cute. He is, for a soon-to-be fourteen-year-old. But his pretty face and exquisite white eyes don't make him any less of a freaking liar. All his handsome male straight friends betray him - it's a worrying pattern now.

He muses for a second that they also all have a crush on Annabeth - gods, the blonde attract the worst types.

It's double-crossing - Percy ends up in an all-white cell that burns his retinas without any weapons because Zeus wants praise in the middle of this freaking war - doesn't matter if a hundred demigods die, if he only has the glory.

Nico ends up with barely any information - Zeus didn't promise anything. The god of the skies is a lying-ass motherfucker - literally.

And Zeus justifies it - He says Perseus is a criminal because he awakened Typhon. So Hephaestus issues a quest so he can save a hundred demigods, he destroys a powerful titan weapon of doom, and he is the villain? Sure, Jan.

Perseus writes this grudge in his heart - that's where trust will take you. To a cell. Betrayed by a "friend". Again.

He flinches when Nico comes into his cell, pins him to the wall and promptly begins to try and strangle him. He wants to melt in the boy's shadow - to go and never give him a chance to explain - but he looks so guilty Percy waits for his repentance.

The son of Zeus saves him, but Perseus is still pissed off. The god of thunder has threatened to kill him off at least two times now, what is to say he wouldn't have killed off Percy for the sake of glory?

He half hopes Zeus had killed him off. The war is close, too close - Nico wouldn't be the Prophecy's child. There would be no child. Olympus would fall - and Percy would have seen it all from his very comfortable couch in Elysium.

He wants Kronos gone - but he kind of wants Olympus to fall with the Titan.

Nico flies him down to the Earth - the elevator is monitored. Zeus has left, like many others - not to bother with the war effort against his main enemy, but to go to the human world mess with people.

Some gods are doing something - He has heard from Annabeth that Artemis is leading the widest hunt ever, with her brother by her side; Hermes (with Hephaestus help) is delivering Celestial Bronze, other metals, old schematics and a whole lot of fuel to Camp Half-Blood every few weeks; Poseidon is fighting his own war, in the ocean; Dionysus is at Camp - and this time, he is really helpful with the battle formations; Demeter is on the Underworld - Chiron seems to think his father is preparing for war, but Percy sorely doubts it.

Percy is taking some people with him to Sally's Christmas dinner. Just Annabeth, Clarisse, Rachel, Connor, Travis, and Charles - people who don't have a present family to celebrate it with.

Grover is coordinating the dryads up in San Francisco with his second cousin, Gleeson Hedge - they are the first to fall if anything goes wrong in Mt. Othrys.

"I think you should stay." He tells Nico.

"You don't trust me anymore." It's not actually a question.

Percy doesn't trust the boy. Not at all - it's the third time he does something shady to achieve his ends based on emotional turmoil. But he is a good person - it's just his father's cursed temper and his grief.

"It's not that. You're needed for the war effort."

Both of them know it's a lie. Percy doesn't care - he deserves to be bitter a little longer.

Percy goes back home. Christmas is amazing - even if Rachel asks him where Nico is because he is talking about making amends with the boy for a while now.

He goes visit Persephone - but she is occupied, so he wanders through the Underworld after Bianca di Angelo - someone he, for some reason, never been able to reach. It's a pointless endeavor by now.

He finds her. Or else, he finds a shadow of her - she is blocked from his view. Bianca doesn't talk to him - they weren't close - but she guides him to a girl.

Her name is Hazel Levesque.

She seems lost - like most ghosts - but something in Percy calls for her. It's the color of her skin and the sparkle in her golden eyes - Hazel remembers him of himself.

He promises to visit more - even though he doesn't think she'll remember it - and leaves to go back to the surface - he will finish the sophomore year.

And Percy does. After a very distressing break, he is doing his best. His grades drop a little in English because he can barely focus - half his mind is on the war and Nico's betrayal and Hazel Levesque's golden eyes.

Miraculously, his GPA doesn't fall - he still is taking a ridiculous amount of AP classes, and barely has time to breathe - dark circles grow under his eyes, and he looks like a mess - but now he is a Junior.

That's why, as soon as the year ends, Rachel takes him on a road trip with Connor. They go all the way to Boston, then Portland, Quebec, Montreal, Ottawa, Syracuse, Baltimore, and Filadelfia, before going back to NY.

They are stopped five times by the police - because Percy is black, and it's Rachel driving the Camaro, because she has a learner's permit and Connor is, somehow, an approved license holder.

They are on a pier, enjoying the view of the beach. They did the last week alone because Connor wanted to go check on one of his cousins - at least, that's what he said, with an over-exaggerated wink that both Percy and Rachel ignored for the sake of their sanity.

She tells him about Clarion Ladies Academy - but that her father is at least mildly happy with her GPA this year, even if he disapproves of her Art focused AP classes. Percy thinks Mr. Dare would love him, with his APs on Economics and Politics, if only he was rich. And white.

This time, when Charles Beckendorf arrives in a Pegasus to tell him it's time, Rachel doesn't kiss him - she justs hugs him and makes him promise to call her.

Perseus doesn't go to the Andromeda Ship - he is needed in Camp. He is useless on the water - but they do need him to improve battle strategy.

Charles Beckendorf is dead. Thalia is the one to tell them - she was in her father's palace helping with a monster under her Lady's orders - he went on the mission alone.

Percy talks briefly with Beckendorf's ghost - is his worst developed power, and he can barely hold the "seance" for more than a few minutes. He does it with only Nico di Angelo for witness - the others are the way to close to the situation.

There's a spy passing information to Luke.

They look at him. Doesn't matter how much he does, he is always the first suspect - he is a son of Hades. He was friends with a lot of people on the other side. He was gone for a year and a half, who knows where.

Perseus wants to say that he has helped to save their asses four times now - that without him in the Labyrinth, they would all be dead right now - and that Charles was basically his older brother.

Then he points out he wasn't even here - he had no idea of any plans of anything - and he told him about the spy, so he is not the freaking spy, go point fingers at each other instead of him.

When they start yelling, he stops them - this is not the time, he was just angry at their accusations. They have to burn Charles shroud. Silena is inconsolable - Percy is not very far from it, but he is not a public crier. The last time he cried in public, Luke was dead on a cliff.

Percy speeds up the line for Elysium to Beckendorf - his brother deserves it.

They read the prophecy together - Perseus already read it last summer, he doesn't even care anymore. They look at him anxiously - no one has forgotten that he abhors most of the gods.

Clarisse and Michael Yew fight, but Lee Fletcher - with a mechanical arm built by Beckendorf himself, still re-learning how to shoot arrows and forever incapable of playing the guitar again (but the keyboard is not ruled out yet) - stops them: They can share the chariot. The war is more important - is not the time for petty fights.

Chiron shows them Typhon - and Perseus has a sliver of hope that they can destroy Kronos and be free of the gods at the same time - It's a horrible hope, because he loves Persephone and some of them are even okay sometimes, but he really wants Zeus to go to Tartarus for at least a century, so Perseus doesn't meet him again in this life.

But he also wants the gods to win, because there's a lot of dead people - innocents, people who have nothing to do with this war.

He dreams of Rachel. Rachel is painting Luke - and Percy wakes up crying, for the boy the gods took away.

Annabeth takes him aside and reminds him of Achilles' Curse. He is off to May Castellan's house - the last place Luke has been - for it's his best and only chance, its what Annie thinks. And she is scarcely wrong.

Perseus hates the gods. They wrecked a family - and for what? May Castellan - forever waiting for a son that will never come back, haunted by visions of his future, plates of burned cookies everywhere.

Perseus doesn't pity her - he rages against the gods, who brought madness upon this woman and then left her to it. Where was Apollo, the god of health? Dionysus, who is supposed to control mental health? Artemis, whose job is to protect women?

Hestia is kind - but she is still a goddess. She could've prevented this - but she hides in her hearth and abstains - and that's enabling. Hestia enables the other gods to do as they please, even when she is the oldest. She says they ignore her - oh well, she ignores them right back! He has no time for the laments of another all-powerful being.

So he goes to his mother and asks for her blessing. Then, just to be sure, he asks Persephone's too.

He thinks about his anchor - where does he want it to be in his body. He doesn't want somewhere in his back - where he can't see it - or in his gut - where anyone can stick a sword. He settles for the bottom of his back - where he can at least touch it and it's well protected by armor - and dives.

Perseus hates water - and he has an uncanny fear of drowning. He feels pain - everywhere, horrible pain.

His vision now doesn't have Annabeth's face - the blonde is his link to the demigod world, Persephone is his link to the Underworld and his mom is his link to childhood - but the person who grounds him is Rachel.

He is stronger. He feel his powers at his fingertips - Perseus feels the Underworld as a whole, and it's overwhelming.

Green flames explode from his hands. Flowers made of shadows curve around his ankles - he has been training since he was 12, but now his body can sustain all of his power. This is all his.

He goes meet with his father - Perseus manipulates him. He tells Hades he'll be the hero, but the god himself can be praised for more than being his father. That he should join the battle against Typhon - That's his chance of proving himself. Also, there's less paperwork for him if there are fewer dead people.

His father is amused with his blatant bribing, but he thinks about it, Percy can tell. In a way or another, he excuses himself and goes back to the surface where he is needed.

Persephone stalls him. She asks him to stay, just for this night. He can go back in the morning - he sleeps, and dreams of Rachel again, drawing in the sand. In greek.

He is scared for her - she is having demigod dreams, but she is mortal. Something is wrong.

Typhon is getting worse - and Kronos draws closer to NYC. It's time - he calls for Blackjack and leaves - Mrs. O'Leary, who has become more or less of a mother to his own hellhound, follows. Persephone promises to convince Hades.

They have about sixty campers able to fight heading for the Empire State Building, and five healers. The ones too young to lift a sword or string a bow stayed back at Camp with Argus - fifteen children between 5 and 9 years old.

Percy knows he looks different - he looks just like his father. He has gained a godly aura - he has no scars anymore, no imperfections. Perseus looms over all of them - he went from 5'7'' to 6'2'' - it's a weird view, from up there. It's still strange when they look at him with a mix of fear and admiration.

Perseus Jackson is officially their leader. He hates Olympus - but he will give his life to defend every single one of his demigods.

The vision Hestia shows him just makes him want to tear this throne room with his bare hands - Luke was a kid. He was a kid - and the gods corrupted him. Thalia was a kid - and the gods took her life, twice. Annabeth is still a kid - they all are - and she is here planning battle strategies.

Annabeth missed an extra year of formal education - while Percy is a Junior, Annabeth barely qualifies for a Freshman - because the gods took this from her too.

Percy rages. The ground of Olympus trembles beneath him - he wants to kill something.

Then Hermes appears - like this whole war is not his fault in the first place, the literal bastard - just to relay a message from Athena that gives them a plan that Annabeth was already putting into works and tells Percy to stay away from Annabeth.

Like she cares. Like Athena has ever, ever, done anything for Annabeth.

Perseus can't punch Athena, so he punches the messager (also, because he freaking guilt trips both of them about Luke). He has nothing to lose - he is going to die by the end of the day anyway, and they need him too much.

He has punched a god before - Ares, in a desert in the middle of Los Angeles - but this time, it's satisfactory. He feels good after it.

Hermes seems strangely resigned - He feels guilty about Luke too, but Perseus doesn't think it's enough. It'll never be enough, not while the gods leave their children to rot in a cabin of rejects and May Castellan bakes cookies for a son that will never come back.

Hermes leaves, ashamed. It's only fair, Perseus thinks. They all should be ashamed.

They see the city asleep - the prophecy is in the works.

Perseus executes their strategy - every cabin is covering a tunnel, with the exception of Dionysus, because Pollux is with the Demeter kids, and the Hecate kids stay behind to use spells to overlook the city. Lincoln Tunnel is getting covered by Ares - who, this time around, is actively participating.

The undetermined who didn't desert are with Hermes - and the minor god's children are divided by specialty - most Hypnos and Morpheus children follow him directly, but the two sons of Iris go with the Apollo Cabin.

Annabeth executes Plan 23, automatons, mounting on Mrs. O'Leary (who has strict orders to take Annabeth anywhere she wants without stopping to play around) - she doesn't need his help with this, and Percy has a tunnel to defend.

That left the rivers uncovered - until Thalia appears, with magical sand money, and made the rivers cooperate.

The hunters join the Aphrodite kids - who are half a dozen children between 11 and 19 - the oldest being Silena Beauregard, who uses a crossbow that looks exactly like her immortal half-brother's one.

His bridge is completely covered on skeletons - but no monster comes, even if he hears explosions. He leaves an English Lieutenant from the Battle of Yorktown in command of the bridge - with Tyene, the oldest daughter of Morpheus, to be in alert and don't let Clovis sleep through the battle. Because he did it before - and while it is funny, it can't happen right now.

Perseus mounts Blackjack - and go see where the noise is coming from. It's the Williamsburg Bridge - where are most of Apollo's Cabin.

They fight - and Percy almost cries when he sees Luke, who is not Luke anymore. Luke, who is a puppet controlled by Kronos.

Perseus kills the Minotaur and the weight of his stone spikes collapse the bridge - and Michael Yew dies. This time around, the bridge falls silently into shadows, and he doesn't bother about searching for the corpse - he saw the boy falling, and his screams will haunt all of them, forever.

This time around, Annabeth is not there to protect him - Ethan also doesn't try to kill him. The Son of Nemesis doesn't leave Kronos side for a second - but there's regret in his eyes.

After the bloodlust is gone, Perseus collapses - Will has to bride carry him back. Overuse of his powers - he summoned skeletons and produced shadows, melted enemy swords (with the bonus of incapacitating them without killing), and sprouted stone spikes everywhere - there's even a vine or ten that he used to hold his friends from falling.

Perseus doesn't sleep quickly enough to not hear the yell of anguish that comes from Lee Fletcher - the pain of losing a brother and not being able to fight beside him.

But he does sleep - and he dreams. He dreams of Hades killing Maria Di Angelo, not Hera, like Zeus told Nico. He dreams of Zeus cursing the Oracle - and he seethes, because he also sees what happened to May Castellan.

He keeps getting angrier and angrier at the gods - it's building inside of him. But his friends are still here, still fragile. He can't let them suffer more.

Perseus wakes up, checks on everyone - most everyone is either injured and/or exhausted, but he checks on every camper. He knows all of their names, their ages, their cabins. - and promises to sit up to talk with Thalia and Nico - war makes him prone to peace - and promptly goes back to sleep.

He dreams of Rachel. He wants to scream for her not to come: but she'll anyway.

Perseus dreams of a boy. He is his age - maybe a little younger. His hair is blonde and his skin is whiter - but Percy glances at his eyes, and there are waves in them.

There's a girl by his side - she is familiar to Percy, somehow. They're climbing a mountain.

The dream ends and Percy can't make heads or tails of it. He asks Thalia if she has a brother, but she says that she doesn't, looking wistful.

Prometheus is tempting - but he knows there's no Luke anymore, there's only Kronos. And the gods are horrible, vile and immature - but they never killed any of Percy's friends. Some of them died for the gods - but never by their hands, so for now, Perseus would toe the line.

He does want to punch Hermes again. He takes the Pythos - if everything goes wrong, he will not hesitate in going down for the sake of his friends - but there have been six deaths, and it's enough.

"Was it worth it?" He asks Ethan.

"Alabaster is alive" And it's all the answer Percy needs.

He dreams of Ethan and Alabaster. Alabaster is alive, yes, but he is missing half a leg - courtesy of Clarisse herself. Luke - Kronos - is indifferent, and Ethan curses the daughter of Ares - "The sword that took from us will take from you"

He contains Hyperion with his shadows. Then he helps Grover (who was half asleep, because of Morpheus) to make the Titan into a tree. It's a pomegranate tree - then he sets hellish fire to it and sacrifices it to Hades and Persephone.

A pig is in the sky - this time around, Annabeth and her frightening army of automatons kill it with Nico's help.

Perseus laughs - because Annabeth has about two hundred automatons under her command, Martin Luther King and Alexander Hamilton leading the charge with a giant bull being ridden by the Mad Hatter behind them.

It's weird to see historic figures Percy admires - like Jane Bolin, Sylvia Mendez, or Abraham Lincoln - fighting alongside people he downright despises - Thomas Jefferson and the goatfucker, herpes-ridden, Colombus. His Comparative Government teacher would have a field day.

Annabeth and Nico's pair up is amazing - They fight alongside like they have been doing it all life.

Nico is a force of nature, flying and commanding the winds to do his bidding - His eyes shine in the midst of the stormy clouds. His specialty is weather manipulation - he hasn't had much success with direct energy or electric discharges.

Annabeth has her mother's tenacity for war - and her clever mind for strategies. It's clear in her eyes - she is racking the weaker points of the Clazmonian Sow in her mind and destroying it. The automatons hold the pig in place - and she makes bacon of it.

Hercules couldn't do it. Nico and Annabeth can, because they have the power and the mind.

Perseus is still fighting off monsters - but they're too widespread, so they retreat to the doors of the Empire State Building.

Percy does a mental tally: of sixty-two campers, six are confirmed dead, twenty are injured and nine are out of commission on exhaustion. There should be 27 orange shirts here - but there's only twenty.

Percy wonders if the seven missing are injured, or dead, or under a pile of rubble somewhere with no one to help them. Is there someone being slowly eaten by monsters? Is there someone alone and injured and abandoned? He doesn't know.

He prays that those seven deserted them - at least that means they probably are alive and well.

Perseus looks at Phoebe's grief-stricken face, and he knows it's not probable - she had almost three dozen hunters with her, and now there's barely fifteen still fighting, Thalia nowhere to be seen.

They prepare for their last standing - Percy keeps conjuring skeletons, but they're no match for the sheer strength of the hyperborean giants. Nico is shoulder to shoulder with the Stoll brothers against a group of telkhines - Clarisse is bringing down a whole giant by herself.

After the Party Ponies save them - Chiron leads the charge against his own father, and Perseus is so proud of his mentor he can't even put in words how much - he goes to sleep. Fighting gets him tired quickly, and they'll come back.

He dreams of Dionysus. Perseus is not fond of any god who is not Persephone, but Dionysus is mostly okay sometimes. He seems to care about his children.

Perseus couldn't care less about the Western Civilization - but he'll care for Pollux. It's one of his demigods, after all, and Underworld people are possessive of theirs (i.e. Hades and Persephone).

He dreams of Thalia, in her father's palace, begging Poseidon to leave the underwater war and help with the invasion - His wife is none too happy with the presence of his immortal bastard daughter.

He wakes up to Rachel's helicopter falling - how is Rachel even awake, is a mistery.

The improbable pair Nico and Annabeth strike again: The girl knows how to fly helicopters, and the boy can fly himself. They save the redhead and the pilot - everything is fine.

"You're not the hero"

"Why did you risk yourself to tell me something I already know?"

Rachel doesn't explain - she can't. But she has a vision that says that he is not the hero. The hero of what? Perseus has no idea. But there's no way any of his cousins is dying for this stupid prophecy.

Suddenly, there's a drakon there. Rachel has another prophecy - Perseus fears she will walk the path that led May Castellan to destruction - that only a child of Ares will be able to kill it.

Bad news: All children of Ares are otherwise out of battle.

Clarisse is resting after a nasty concussion - and her brothers and Apollo's children are fighting yet again because Lee Fletcher is in no condition to stop them and Michael Yew is dead. Ares' side refuses to fight without the chariot - which Cabin 7 has hidden somewhere.

The best they can do is fend the drakon off until a miracle occurs. And it does: Clarisse, in full armor, manages to lead her brothers into battle.

Clarisse is dead. Something shatters inside of Perseus - and he leaves the drakon for the Ares' children to solve - he can't kill it anyway - and starts to vaporize the army behind it.

He is so caught up in bloodlust, that he almost misses Clarisse slaying a dragon. Clarisse, who has no armor. Clarisse, who is alive.

Ethan's curse rang true - Clarisse's weapon took something from her.

Silena is a traitor. She is also dead - which makes her a martyr, and probably going to reunite with her boyfriend in Elysium.

He remembers how easy is to fall for Luke's charm - he was - is - still in love with the guy. Percy thought the son of Hermes could do no wrong - and he wonders how much of his rage against the gods sprout from his influence.

Something evil inside of Perseus's mind tells him she deserved it. It tells Perseus that better her than Clarisse - but he shuts it down, and concentrates on his shining red friends.

He hates Ares. But he might just have an okay side if he can produce such a magnificent daughter.

Silena is the Patroclus to Clarisse's Achilles, and the Drakon is Hector - and the daughter of Ares is sure to parade its dead body.

It's the first time they feel like they are winning. It doesn't last - but as he hugs Clarisse tightly, he thinks he might cry of relief.

Clarisse looks tough - but she is a wonderful human being. She loves Silena with her whole heart - even more than she loves Chris, her best friend. Silena might've been in love with Charles - but she and Clarisse? They are soulmates.

The damned Pythos is following Perseus - and he is done with it. He knows where hope will survive best. Rachel wants him to give it to Hestia - but he owns the fire goddess nothing.

She has never interfered, not once, to help the dozens of demigods with no family that is abandoned in Cabin 11, and he won't forgive her for it.

He sacrifices hope to Persephone because that's what spring is. Spring is the hope of a new life. Maybe, Perseus thinks, it'll convince his father to come.

They go down to make their final stand against the forces of Kronos. There's not a lot of them - but they're not getting through those doors.

Well, his father doesn't come. But Poseidon does, with his whole army, Tyson and Thalia behind him, and the scales seem to turn.

And then Kronos cuts the barrier. Perseus can see his Mom (why is his Mom here with a handgun?!) and Poseidon fighting against the monsters under the eyes of extremely confused mortals.

Some are trying to break the barrier - but it's futile. Kronos has corraled them like sheep for the slaughter.

It's just him, Grover, Annabeth and Nico, fighting against Kronos vanguard - which is big, but not as strong as they are.

Kronos passes him without resistance - Ethan follows, but there's anger in his eyes - not for Percy, but for the monster he is leashed to. Alabaster is not there.

As soon as Kronos powers stop working on them, the four follow the titan - and some things never change, no matter the universe.

This time, it's Nico who falls because of Hera - it's her curse over all of her husband's bastards.

Ethan takes one look at Perseus, and they don't even need to fight. They have been friends for longer than they have been enemies - and they both loathe the gods, but Kronos is as much of an all-powerful controller being as any of the Olympians.

They battle against Kronos - Perseus has only his ax against his scyther - a true Underworld fight.

Ethan dies. And Perseus bloodlust consumes him - it clouds his eyes and he can only keep fighting.

"If... if we've had cabins... and they had thrones"

It's true, and more than ever, Perseus wishes Kronos wasn't such a bastard. He wouldn't bother killing the gods - but the titan is a way worse option.

"LUKE, PLEASE" It's Annabeth. He doesn't have her faith - she didn't saw his transformation. But he tries anyway because he loves Luke just as much as he hates Kronos.

"Luke, remember our summer" But his words are caught up in his throat when the titan throws him against the wall.

But the amalgamation of his friend and an all-powerful being looks confused, so props for his genius best friend.

Kronos shows them a rainbow message of Typhon - and that's where Perseus it's pretty sure he starts liking his father.

Because the Lord of the Dead opens up the earth and gets out in a black chariot guided by skeletal horses like a king. By his right side, is Persephone, in armor battle as a queen should be. By his left, is Demeter, who looks every single bit like the matron she is supposed to be.

Behind him, a hundred thousand dead roars. Charon is mounting Cerberus - and literal hell is unleashed upon the Father of Monsters.

The gods strike down Typhon, sending him back to be locked away - this time, in the depths of Tartarus instead of Mount Etna.

Kronos gets mad. Utterly, undoubtedly mad. He talks about burning Luke's body. Then he hurts Annabeth and breaks two promises in one fell swoop.

"Luke.... remember family" It's what Annabeth utters, but Perseus, already certain of their own demise, is crying now.

"That summer Luke, you promised to never hurt her again. You remember it? YOU PROMISED LUKE!!"

Annabeth's promise was already broken - he had hurt her, all those years ago, in Mt. Othrys. But the promise he made to Percy - that he would never hurt her again - is new and broken, in the river Styx no less.

Luke regains his own body, for a minute, and Perseus runs to him like a man in a desert with no water.

"Please, please tell me there's a way to undo this, Luke, please, please"

"There isn't one, Percy" And it's the first time he hears Luke call him Percy, Percy and not Perseus, in his own voice, in two years. Percy cries.

"We... we don't have much time, hellebore. Give me Annabeth's dagger. Before he... before he takes back"

Luke calls him hellebore and it makes him start crying all over again. He gives him the dagger - and Luke kills himself, taking Kronos out with him.

Luke doesn't need to ask if Percy has ever loved him - Percy kept loving Luke, one-sided as it was, even when Kronos was there.

He still crying over Luke's body when the gods arrive. Luke is dead. Ethan is dead. Silena is dead. Michael Yew is dead. Charles is dead.

He lost three of his best friends in two days. Ethan is dead. Luke is dead. Luke is dead.

Perseus can't stop crying. They take Luke's body away - but he can't stop. Annabeth explains what happened to the gods - most of it, anyway. Apollo says he is in shock - his father says he is a hero.

Perseus doesn't feel like a hero. Was this all worth it? Was it worth it the pain and the death and the suffering?

Persephone touches him - and he has no tears to cry anymore. She can't hug him here, but she'll do so later.

He stares at the walls, listening to his friends being awarded - compensated by their siblings and friends' deaths - with a blank stare. Perseus wants his mom.

They call for him. He raised his head but doesn't bother getting up. He just saved their asses - for the fifth time in a roll. He deserves to grieve.

They offer him immortality. A place between the gods.

He laughs. Zeus looks murderous, but he can't stop laughing.

"My apologies, but I have to refuse," he says. But in his mind, he is thinking about how could they even think he might want to sit between them and be an all-powerful being, be another god ignoring his children and messing with mortal lives while thousands die for him.

"Promise me, on the river Styx, that you'll give me the wish that I want."

They promise him, that if it's within their capabilities, they shall grant him his wish.

"I wish for every child at the age of twelve to be claimed. I wish for cabins in Camp Half-Blood, for every single minor god, and my own father. I wish for Calypso to be free, and to the demigods from the opposite side of this war to be given amnesty. It's not their fault. It's not any of our faults."

"You dare to-" Zeus begins, but Percy is really tired of Zeus.

"We fought your war, we won your battles. We, the unclaimed and rejected stowaways of Cabin 11. We, the children of minor and Underworld gods. We deserve respect. Just like my father deserves a throne, just like the minor gods deserve justice."

"Don't you fear us?" Athena asks, something weird shining in her eyes.

"I thought I would be dead today. At least if I die now, I'm dying for something I believe in."

It stays unsaid that he doesn't believe in them. The other demigods look at him worried - but he is not afraid of the gods.

They grant his wish. Some of them aren't happy with it, but they have to do it. He meets Calypso at the front gates of Olympus - and her smile can brighten the pits of Tartarus. He sees Alabaster talking with Lou Ellen - they are both crying.

He thinks it's the end - it's not. Thalia tells him Rachel left for Camp in her Pegasus - and his father has lift the curse, the Prophecy is gone, but he fears for his best friend.

Perseus is too tired for shadow travel - he does it anyway. He flickers, but anyway, he is too late.

It works. Rachel - his best friend - is the new Oracle. Someone jokes they can't be together anymore and Rachel lifts an eyebrow.

"We never were. Didn't you see the last few hours?" Well, he did out himself. Mostly - they might say it's just friendship, and he will hate the way they twist it. Luke wasn't a villain, and Perseus isn't a pure hero with a heart of gold.

Perseus is healing from lost love - and Annabeth is too. His crush on her was only a crush, he thinks - She is his best friend first and foremost. They cry together at the bonfire that burns away the shrouds of 43 demigods - from both sides - and 16 hunters of Artemis. Their souls all rest in Elysium now.

Alabaster comes back to Camp and helps his siblings to build the new Cabin for Hecate, full of spelled blocks and magic chimneys. Clovis and Tyene have their hands full with their own cabins - it doesn't help they keep getting sidetracked with naps.

Somehow, Nico, Thalia, and his bond over helping construct Cabin 13 - They are both way too invested in the goth vibe, mostly because Cabin 1 looks like a temple, and Cabin 3 looks like a beach cabin. And both of them are so over it.

Perseus doesn't want a goth cabin - he is fighting against the aesthetic for years - but sometimes, there are no arguments. His Cabin is made of black marble, and there are skulls everywhere, with torches shining with green fire. Outside, at least. Inside, it looks like Persephone's garden, with input from the queen herself. It's ready just shy of the end of summer vacation.

Rachel tells the next Great Prophecy. Perseus isn't such a positive person to think it won't affect him - he hopes at least it'll wait until he is done with High School.

That night, he dreams of the blonde boy again - it's his first night without nightmares since the battle. He has a scar in his lip, and his green eyes pierce Percy's soul. Perseus wonders if they'll ever meet, wonders if this boy is one of the Seven of the Prophecy.

But alas, Perseus lets it go. The summer is over - he is sixteen, somehow. He is alive and going to go back to his mortal life and his junior year, and grief. Not everything is fine - but eventually, it will be.

It's not the end. Not yet.

[iwantitiwriteit]

Love Lockdown - Part 3

Lovesick

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: Chris braces himself for his FaceTime with you.

Warnings: Angst, Pandemic backdrop, Profanity

Notes: First In My Feelings Monday™ on books! Hopefully there’ll be more musings as the weeks go on, but I loved the whimsy the mindset added to me day! 🥰 This part was kind tough to write cos it required me to get into an opposing mind frame from the Reader, but a fun challenge nonetheless! Read the previous part here!

As much as he loved Winter in Boston, it was Spring that really captured Chris’ heart.

He’d been watching the beautiful day pass by outside his home office window while he took a few remote meetings with his team. Lockdown didn’t mean shutdown, for Chris at least, as he’s in preparation mode for an upcoming virtual press junket.

However, as soon as those glorious words, “That’s all for today,” were uttered, he upped and gathered his jacket, Dodger and headed for the front door.

“Going for a walk!” He called over his shoulder, his way of saying he’d be back soon.

“Alright, let me grab my jacket!” Scott said in response. Chris sighed and laughed to himself as he waited by the door for his brother. “What?” Scott asked when he got to Chris, who was shaking his head at his brother’s self-invite. He just laughed lightly as they bounded for the street, locking the door behind them.

It took Chris some growing up to appreciate this season. Truly appreciate it. But he’s so glad he does now. There’s a polarity in its elements that make it unique from the other seasons. 

The bright sun peeks from behind thick clouds every so often, fully exposed and giving light gloriously. The flowers, shy and budding in March, are now in April, with just a little time, bold and in bloom. The trees billowing in the cold wind are unaware of their own fierce presence, so gentle in their saving grace that is their shade.

Kind of complex, Spring in Boston. Could be perceived as annoying in its inconsistency of temperature within a 24 hour period; cold one part of the day then hot the next. But he loved that not everyday or every hour was the same. Kept him on his toes in a way.

 He couldn’t help but imagine how you’d like it here at this time of year. How he’d like you here with him. To have you on this walk right now. To hold you close when the sharp wind cuts through, chilling you both. You’d say what you always say when you snuggle up to him for warmth; that your southern bones feel the cold more than he does.

Maybe it’s true. Or Maybe it’s a lame excuse to be closer to him. Either way, he’d never complain. He loves it. He loves you.

Chris smiles to himself at the thought. Yeah, you’d love it here in the Spring. Definitely more than you did in December. What a start to a shit show that turned out to be. Chris hates to think about it. But his brain can’t help but go back there sometimes.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Scott asks, walking alongside his brother.

Chris lets out a long breath. He’s back there right now. But it doesn’t start and stop there. December makes him think of January. January makes him think of February. Then March, and before he knows it, he’s been through the chain of events that led you two here: Him in Boston, and you in Tennessee. In love but hurting from it. In the midst of a pandemic? Your relationship is just as uncertain as the end to the world’s madness.

Chris kicks himself at the painful memories. Shaking his head, he looks over to Scott who is patient as his brother finds his words.

“I’m thinking that despite the craziness of the last few weeks, months even, and being on lockdown...”

“Uh-huh…” Scott says knowing there’s more

“In an odd way, I’ve felt more free than I have in a while.”

“How’s that?”

“Well… hasn’t it been kinda great being, ya’know, solo...?” Chris eludes, not wanting to say the actual words.

“Huh? Oooooh!” Scott says as he catches Chris’ drift.

Chris won’t lie; the last 3 weeks away from you have been headache free. The bachelor lifestyle coming back to him with ease. He’s spent enough years on his own to know how to revel in the perks of singleness. No side eyes when he’s yelling at CNN or football, no being told to do stupid, necessary chores that can wait til he’s ready, and no one to get hurt when he’s inevitably fucked up in some way or another.

“Only problem is, I’m the only one of us who’s actually single.”

“Right… I know, and don’t get me wrong! I feel really lucky she hasn’t left me yet, and that she’s stuck it out with me for this long. I really can’t imagine my life without her.”

“But…” Scott prompts.

Chris is hesitant as he starts again. “But lately, guiltily...I wonder if that would be such a bad thing. If we were to… ya’know,” Chris makes weird hand motions that Scott eventually interprets as “breakup”.

“It’s a wonder you’re any good at charades.”

As much as he feels bad and knows he could’ve done some things differently, handled some things better, Chris is sooo frustrated with you.

“Why won’t she just tell me what she’s really thinking— exactly what she’s feeling. I’m not a fucking mind reader! You would think it’d be easy for her, considering what she does for a living, I don’t get it man.”

Scott waits for his cue for Chris to ask the golden question, but when he doesn’t hear it, he looks over at his older brother. Chris looks every bit a boy that’s absolutely lovesick, kicking the rocks in his way, pouting down at his feet. “You want my opinion?” Scott eventually offers.

“Please. I don’t think Dodger’s gonna give me anything good.” Chris bends down to pet the pup quickly before continuing their walk

“I think she has told you what she’s feeling— just not explicitly from her mouth.”

“If that’s the case, then her shutting down every time we’re addressing an issue is supposed to mean…?”

“You’ve got to give her some room to emote, cos you can be a bit, well, you know.” Chris did know, but it didn’t make it sting any less.

Accusations from past girlfriends of him not listening, only hearing, what’s been communicated have not gone unnoted. That, coupled with his bubbling emotions have led to many a breakup in his life. Relationships demoted to damn near flings the way women have come and gone from his life. But what he has with you couldn’t just be another relationship for the books. Chris wants to break the cycle with you… for you.

“I thought I was doing that when I suggested we social distance separately. Then last night she made it very clear that I was very wrong.”

“I could’ve told you that you were very wrong. Tax free.” The two men make their way back to the house. Looking at his brother before him, all sad and distraught, Scott was not going to let him start his own pity party.

“I don’t want to lose her. She’s the one. She’s my one. I know it.”

“Then don’t lose her.”

“When’s anything EVER been that simple?”

“I’m not saying it is, but if you know she’s the one, don’t give up so easily bro. Try everything in your power to give her the relationship she deserves. And she will do the same for you. But, if the problems still persist, then maybe, it would be for the best if…” Scott trails off as he sees his brother’s eyes start to look like those of the dog by their feet. “Look, I’m just telling you from personal, very recent experience, that it isn’t all that bad being friends on the other side of it all.”

“Ugh, God! I think I’d rather have a limb caught off and force fed to me than try to be friends with her if we ever… I can’t even say it.” Chris pokes his tongue out like he’s tasted something awful.

“You’re being hella dramatic right now.”

“But bro, I’m not even exaggerating!” The brothers laugh as they walk up the driveway. As they cross the threshold of the front door, Chris’ reminder for your FaceTime call sounds off, echoing in the foyer. He turns it off and looks up at his brother. “That’s the call to my love’s fate” he tries to joke.

Scott wears a soft, empathetic smile “Everything’s gonna be just fine. No matter what.”

Chris tries to wear some optimism, but the possibility of this being the end of your relationship tugs at him. He won’t let it get a hold of him. “Thanks, bro. I’ll see you later. And DO NOT eavesdrop.”

“Whaaaat??? I would never!” Scott feigns offense. Chris looks unconvinced. “Dodge and I are gonna enjoy an afternoon movie, isn’t that right Dodgey Wodgey?” 

“Dodger’s not even buying it. Stop it.”

“Yeah, that was weird. See ya later, man.”

Chris takes the stairs to his bedroom two by two. He sets up his laptop, making sure to plug in its charger; wouldn’t want it to die on this call.

He paces around the space in front of his desk. As many video calls as he’s done the past few weeks, none of them were as important as this one. Nervousness washes over him. He decides to embrace it; it’s natural, and a good sign. He still cares. He can only hope you do, too. 

The digital clock strikes 2. It’s time.

He calls you, the laptop ringing for a while longer than his beating heart can take. His heart sinks and doubts creep in. Is this is it? Is she done with me? No fight, no… nothing? This can’t be it. But then the ringing ceases and the screen says “connecting”, a sigh of relief involuntarily escaping him.

He can’t help but beam, proud he knows you better than his negative thoughts do. Happy that you wouldn’t leave him high and dry. 

Then he sees your face. Your beautiful face. The natural lighting of your room bouncing off your gorgeous, brown skin. Your hair is the perfect combination of defined curls and loose wisps, neat but not overly so. You are the epitome of effortless, natural beauty. He almost feels like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Hey baby! For a second there, I thought you wouldn’t answer,” he nervously chuckles. 

You smile at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes. He senses your apprehension, even through a screen. He hadn’t done a good job of setting up this conversation with peace of mind for you, now that he thinks about it. “We need to talk” is almost always followed by some heavy, unwanted shit. Not that this talk will be easy, but he most certainly doesn’t want you thinking the worst. He genuinely wants to talk; explain his fuck ups and frustrations. And try to listen.

He figures since he’s put you two here, it’s his job to steer this ship to calmer, nicer waters. Here goes. He tries some small talk, anxiety making him ramble. “So, how’s the… weather? That’s a stupid— ugh, I’m sure it’s, like, hot. You’re down south, where it’s hot—”

“Chris?”

“Yes honey?”

“I don’t wanna do this with you.”

There it is; his worst fear. Losing you. No. He was determined to let his optimism win. Determined that his ears were deceiving him in this moment.

“What do you mean?”

Chris is too all in to go down without a fight, and  fight for you he was prepared to do.

Part 4 | What’d you think?

[sopxhiea]

Pleasant

Alfie Solomons X Reader

| Prompt

“Hey, stop looking at me like that– I don’t like how cute you look.”  

The room was cold, glass windows that took up the place of where the walls were supposed to be let the breeze in a little too welcomingly. It had been a busy friday for the city, many cars passing by while the sounds of footsteps and women giggling filled the empty yet occupied room. There was a canvas in the middle, too many paint brushes resting on the floor while there was a mixture of water and alcohol traveling on the oak that made up the surface.

There was slow music playing in the background, it sometimes changed depending on what kind of mood was wanted since it seemed to get a little more tempo during the afternoon time. It wasn’t afternoon anymore, if it had been, he would’ve brought you lunch with flowers. He knew just how forgetful you were while working in the empty studio and he never missed a chance to see your eyes light up the minute you would spot him, especially when he has food with him.

He found the space empty while the only worker in the studio besides you let him in, she was a little younger than you but talented still. She needed some training and she would be a good painter after all. He heard the sound of your bare foot against the wooden floor, your steps were small which probably meant that you were tired but if you had stayed until now, he knew you had to finish a piece.

He murmured a small thank you to the younger girl, realising just how late it was. You had probably forgotten to send her home so Alfie told his driver to drop the girl off and come back to your studio, you probably had a full mind today. He followed the smell of paint mixed with your natural scent, it smelt like home to him. He had been missing you for the past couple of days since you always came in late or fell asleep on the couch after he had come home.

He was usually the busy one. After getting married, there had been many nights you had sat him down and talked to him about just how much you missed him since he ate up all the hours of the day in that bakery of his. You knew it was important and while making the promise to love this bear of a man forever, you were also aware of the fact that you deserved, and very much needed, his attention. It had gotten better after a small talk with him, he listened to you more than he listened anyone else but lately, you were the one being held in the studio of yours.

There had been a painting of yours in an auction two months ago, it had caused quite the talk around town and you were getting more jobs by the passing day. You didn’t mind, you loved your job but you loved him more. The last week had been just you in your studio, painting the day away while forgetting to eat. It was usually Alfie who would come from the bakery with fresh pastries and a bunch of flowers, planting a kiss on your head while telling you to stretch every once in a while to make sure you didn’t get too stiff.

He also made sure you were feeling alright every night on the bed, touching every part of you and using your heavy workload as an excuse while his fingers would explore your body. You had always been spending a lot of time in bed ever since he first got the taste of you. He had been addicted from that point, always seeking you out no matter the place or the time. You didn’t complain, he was a lot more active now that you were married since you were officially his and he loved the sound of that. There had been many times you were covered in paint at the end or against the fire place where the two of you would seek comfort in each others’ touch.

He had been your home ever since you had let him in, shown him the real you and he had loved you with all he could ever since. He heard you first, your slow hum to the song that was playing in the background. It was french from what he could muster and he knew you had a way with words so he wasn’t surprised. A couple books hit his shoes as he walked inside the studio, you were walking in from the back side where there was a private bathroom and he watched as you walked in with a tired sigh, it was a pleasant one from being satisfied with your work as far as he could tell.

Your eyes met in the cold studio room, your once expressionless face turned into an immediate smile, making his heart flip more than once as you walked towards him. You ignored the pain brushes on the floor and the mess you’d made, you just wanted to hug him. Walking towards him with fast yet cautious steps not to spill anything around, you made your way towards your man.

“’ello, luv..” he spoke and right afterwards your body met his, it was automatic. His head rested on top of yours while your arms hugged his body, you hugged him inside his coat and squeezed him when he kissed the top of your head. His hands held you close, caressing the skin of your back while you took his scent in.

This was what heaven meant to you.

You let yourself get lost in his touch, in the warmth he provided for as long as you could. He didn’t complain, he had missed you a great deal, much like always, and he never said no to your touch, ever.

“You didn’t come by at lunch today.” you said, retreating yourself from his embrace and not because you wanted to but because you had to. You looked forward to his lunch visits every day and it had been a great disappointment when he didn’t come around, maybe that was why you had stayed so late.

“I was busy, yeah.” he spoke, watching you sit in front of the already painted canvas to add details to the figures in the scenery. You could paint like a saint and he was just as awed as he was the first time he had seen a painting of yours.

He knew how talented your hands were from the way you expertly touched him. The way you would massage his back as your soft hands would travel along his rough skin, creating circles as you’d gain a sound of pleasure coming from him. He knew the feeling of your hands traveling along his neck and hair all too well but he could never get enough. He knew you could use your hands really well, not just in the bathroom but in the way that you wanted to express yourself as well which is why you made so much money as you did now, people recognised brilliance and you were it to him.

“It’s alright..” you said with a soft tone while settling down with your brushes. You knew he was going to apologise when there was no reason to do so you just answered what you thought he’d say next and like most times, you had been right.

A small hue of blush appeared in his cheeks, he liked that you knew him so well. You didn’t know everything that was going on in his mind but you’d learned a lot more about him especially after getting married, he was an open book to you now but you wanted to take your time and explore every little detail of his. He was the most precious jewel in your eyes. He grunted, walking around the empty space while your brush hit the canvas repeatedly.

Your motions were quick as you changed brushes, detailing the colours as they needed depth more than anything. He watched. He watched as you stood up and got a little far from the canvas to see if it all fit, he watched as you hummed in approval, retreating back to your place in front of the canvas to detail it furthermore, he looked at you adoringly. 

Most of your locks decorated your shoulders, you had put it up in a bun but it was too short for all your hair to stay in one place. There were strands around your face, almost framing your features while Alfie’s eyes traveled along them, he loved you dearly. 

It had scared him at first, to be in love with someone this much. There were so many feelings inside him and he was an expert at keeping them at ease mostly but what he felt towards you, oh how he loved you, it was entirely something else for him to comprehend. He had felt like a wounded bird the first time he’d realised just how much your presence lifted his spirits, he had never been the one to be depended on someone but his happiness, solely and totally, depended on you.

“Luv..” he spoke, caressing your hair as you looked up at him, he had been watching you for the last half an hour as you painted for all you knew and the look in his eyes was just too dense for you.

You weren’t in your prime state today, it had been a harsh start and he hadn’t showed up during lunch which messed with your spirit a little. You were wearing a dress much like you did when you painted. It was very baggy, no definition whatsoever, your face had splashes of paint from earlier when you were experimenting with a new technique but he had never seen you more beautiful, this was the woman he fell in love with.

You held his hand, pulling him closer as you stayed seated but he didn’t lower himself, he seemed like he was calculating something. He wanted to do so much with you, you had become his muse and he wanted to give you everything he could offer, anything you wanted and not just jewels or paint but also he wanted to take you all over the world, he wanted you to carry his kids and move to a bigger house where you would fall in love with him again after the kids had grown up and left you. He wanted to see you age, to see you grow into an even prettier version of yourself. He wanted every part of you.

You looked into his eyes, he was somewhere else but his blue orbs got deeper by the passing second. There was once a time you had been scared to look at his eyes just because they held too much, there were too many emotions this man was capable of but with time, you had gotten every sentiment out of him. It was happening again, he was getting lost in his mind but not in a bad way, it was more like he was daydreaming about you in front of you.

You chuckled, pulling him down as his body abided. You pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss on each cheek with extra love, he smelled like vanilla and rum, it was your favourite smell in this world. You gave him a smile after you pulled him back to the world with your kisses, the look in his eyes was still there but now he wasn’t daydreaming, he was looking directly at his dream.

You smiled again, pushing a few locks of hair back from his face from when he took off his hat, he melted into your touch. You spoke with a chuckle as he watched you like a wide-eyes kid would watch someone in amazement.

“Hey, stop looking at me like that– I don’t like how cute you look.” you almost whispered, earning a chuckle from him because you had called him cute, he didn’t like to be called it but he was fine as long as it was from you.

“Like ‘hat?” he asked, your hands never left his cheeks as you both sat in front of the canvas, he got even closer to your face so that you could feel his breath against you.

“Like you’re looking at something otherworldly...” you whispered against his lips as he slowly started to kiss you, taking it easy but you knew it was either gonna be the bed or your studio where things would start getting steamy like they always did, so you welcomed it.

“Well, I am, aren’t I?” he spoke, his hands finding your upper thighs while his deep kisses earned mewls from you, he knew your body all too well but never got tired of the touch.

You felt his hands travel up your dress, the smell of faint paint had mixed with your own scent and he found it even more addictive. He chuckled at how responsive you were to his touch, especially since you two were so active but you still were a mere creature longing for his skin against yours. You got lost in the kiss, soon you were sitting on top of him, caressing his hair as his hands stayed exploring, you could never get enough of him.

As you sat on top, straddling the bear of a man and desperately kissed him, a loud honk could be heard from the outside. It made you break the kiss, breathless while your swollen lips looked at Alfie to see if it was his man or just a drunk guy passing by. Alfie didn’t stop anything he was doing, his hands were on your ass now but you held his face from his chin, making him look directly at you while he continued to pepper your skin with kisses.

“Alfie..” you spoke, breathy as you once again became numbed by his touch but there was another honk which made anger rise up in his chest.

He slowly let you down while you followed him out, hair disheveled for the both of you while your lips were swollen, your chest was rising too much for someone who should’ve been just painting. The man outside was his driver, Alfie just knew and he was about to fire him, how dare he interrupt the moment he was having with his wife, he had been waiting for it the whole day.

“You fucking bastard..” Alfie breathed out and got out of the studio, practically howling at the man as his shouting became the only thing you could hear from even inside the studio.

He was mad, it was also a mixture of frustration from the day he had as well as the given interruption. You had never been scared of him and you weren’t now either. He shouted when necessary, he hurt when necessary and he was an expert in pain since he knew how to work his way around your body so there was no problem with that, he was just a little rough around the edges but he was your Alfie.

You chuckled at him as he let all his anger out on the poor driver. You knew how stressed he could get but that was why he had you, you’d help him in any way possible. You took your coat from the hanger at the entrance after locking the door to the studio, while locking the front entrance you heard his footsteps come closer, he wanted to finish what he’d started but you’d continue at home, even though he was certainly too desperate to wait that much. You felt his hands on your waist, a small sigh escaped his lips while he spoke.

“Leavin’?” he asked, you nodded softly while your back was still all that faced him. He liked assurance and his form of getting that was physical touch.

It was usually his hand on her back, caressing and never leaving its place. She liked that he was clingy with her, he needed her just as much as she needed him. The touch sometimes became his hand on her thigh, that was usually the case when he was driving. His hands would find hers whenever they were invited to dinner somewhere, squeezing and caressing her fingers while they would sometimes take it a little further but you weren’t the one for that kind of risk, not always.

You turned to face your husband, a beaming smile on your lips while you took his hand in yours, obviously bigger in size but you liked the way his skin felt against yours way too much. Pulling him towards the car, you told the driver to drive you home while Alfie followed you like a puppy, he wanted to be close to you.

Ever since he had put a ring on your finger, he had become your tail. He usually followed you everywhere and anywhere, barely complaining. There were things out of routine like when you would go the farmers market with him, or to pick up flowers and shop around the city but it was usually you in the big house, tucked inside the covers or on the bed, relying on each others’ warmth while you would converse, it had been such a lovely time for you.

He started kissing you neck slowly, he liked foreplay way too much and he knew just how you reacted to his touch, you were desperate for it. You chuckled into the kiss, feeling the vibrations of your laugh in his lips as he mirrored your smile. The driver knew not to disturb you as your mewls became absorbed by his lips, silencing you the best he could while he explored your body in the backseat. 

Your melodic voice filled his ears, he would worship you tonight much like he did on the daily. You were both lucky to have found each other, he knew that much as his lips met your shoulder, earning a slow moan of approval. It was rare that Alfie would get this lucky, he was going to make sure he would cherish the blessing that is you every second you two had.

[boogiewrites]

Mae Flowers Ch. 8

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Mae LeBlanc (OFC)

Summary: A modern, magical Alfie Solomons AU. Alfie takes Mae out to celebrate a milestone in her magical work. It turns into an evening of deep conversation and bonding, learning about one another.

Warnings/Tags: Language.Magic/Supernatural.FLUFF. Bonding. Talk of being soul mates. Support/Love. Talk of confidence issues and mild bad memories.

Click on my screenname then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

“Go throw something on that makes you feel like celebratin’ and we’ll go out ‘n do just that.”

It was a simple enough request. But one Mae was having a hard time with. She watched the grass and soul gather in the antique tub's drain, washing the sweat from the sun off her warm brown skin. Wiggling her yellow-painted toes, she took a few deep breaths to ease the sense of anxiety building and give the many potted and ivy plants in the bathroom a good dose of co2.

She stood before her full-length mirror in her room whose colors all deep jewel tones made her feel at peace. A mix of malachite, amethyst, and a pop of color with citrine soothed her as she adjusted her dress. Mae wasn’t the “going out” type. Like most, she had a dress that had been dormant in her closet for ages. The one that you bought on a whim when you had some manic episode where you swore you’d start going out and dating and having fun like everyone said you should. But it just sat in the back of your closet. A reminder of money wasted and goals not met.

She frowned, her dark curls against her shoulders only covered by the thin straps of the bold red dress. Her hands moved across her body, a pudge to her stomach, her hips wide from her pear shape and her breasts barely enough to fill out the cups of the dress. It reminded her of the “hot girl” dresses in 90s movies from when she was younger. Cinched in a baby doll cut and the rest hugging her body in a way she was unfamiliar with showing off. Her denim cut-offs and a tank or shop t-shirt were her go to outfits. She never purposely dressed up to seem more attractive, it was function over fashion for her at this point in her life. The last time she’d gotten “dressed up” had been when Ruth and Nancy set her up with a “nice boy” from their church. What a bust that had been.

She let herself take a deep breath to gather what confidence she could and it only deflated into a sigh. She let her head fall back and made silent protests with clawed hands and an angry face before stomping and glaring at her reflection. Why couldn’t she just feel...good? She was a so-called powerful witch but all she saw looking back at her was an unsure girl. Not the confident woman she wished she was. Her chest aches a bit, a pit in her stomach as sadness came and went, flashes of failed attempts at dates and moments others killed her hard work at feeling confident in one single comment.

“Okay…” she exhaled forcefully. “This is as good as it’s going to get.” She flops her hands to her hips and decides maybe a cardigan would be an acceptable addition to the outfit. She could cover up a bit, but it wouldn’t look like she was trying to hide. Yeah. That’d work. She found comfort in the extra layer, adjusting it over her cleavage as she exited her bedroom.

Alfie stood relaxed and confident as always. He looked up to her, hazy blue eyes under a heavy brow of ginger tinged hair. He blinks slowly and watches her unsure movements. He could very literally see the dark haze of uncertainty around her but only a blind man couldn’t see how shy she felt.

“Why’ve ya got a sweater on? It’s blazin' out.” Alfie asks with a furrowed brow as he sees her usually sunny disposition missing.

“If you think it’s hot now I have some bad news about the summers in the south.” she answers back, a clear deflection.

“I know it’s hot enough to melt ya bollocks to your leg down ‘ere but that’s not what I asked now was it?”

Her face falls into a defensive expression. “It’s part of the outfit.” she says and averts her eyes from his.

“Mae. Now, what would be the point in lying to me? When I don’t even have to get into that noggin of yours to read it.”

“None I guess.”

“So why are ya?”

“Because I don’t wanna get into it,” she states with an attitude-filled head shake. “I’m just trying to...get through this night out you wanted to do.”

“Nope.” he says with a clap of his hands and moves her over to the couch. He squats in front of her and stares her down. “We don’t lie to each other Mae. Not only is it pointless it serves no purpose for growth. And that’s why we’re together. So I’ll ask again.”

“Just read my mind if you wanna know so bad. Since you can just poof everything into existence without trying.” she snaps back.

“You’re acting like a teenager, Mae. You’re a grown woman.”

She glares at him because he’s right. “I’m wearing it because I want to hide. Is that what you want to hear?” she blurts out.

“The truth yes but I never want you to feel poorly.” he pats her knee. “Why?”

She huffs out, feeling her face be red with embarrassment and hurt and anger. “Because I don’t… I’ve never worn this and it’s tight and I’m not… I don’t wear things like this because it’s something hot girls wear and I’m not that.”

“No, you are not.”

His eyes blink and go wide at his response.

“You are a beautiful woman. Not some slaggy young thing. You are of substance. Of...principal and power.” He sees the tears prickle up in her eyes from her rush of emotions. “You also look lovely in that dress. Red suits you. It’s a shame a woman like you would lack confidence when you owe the world nothing. You gracing these mortals with your visage is a gift they do not deserve.”

“You’re just being full of shit now Alfie.” she groans.

“No. No Mae darling I am not. I said no lies did I not? I stand by that.” he raises her chin with his calloused index finger. “I understand that your big big soul is feeling lots of things in this little human body of yours. I know you’ve been hiding it from me and I commend you for trying to handle it all on your own. But the purpose of us existing my love is to NOT have to deal with these burdens alone. Now tell Alfie what is wrong so he may mend it.” he leans in to kiss her forehead and hug her. It was too much for her little heart to handle. “Let it out little one.” he shushes as she sniffles and pretends she doesn’t want to sob and wail.

“I just feel so… boring. So not confident and I don’t like what I see when I look in the mirror. Nothing is where I want it. I don’t look how I should. I don’t-” she hiccups and he wipes away her tears.

“Says who? Who told you you had to look any certain way? Some old rich white man behind a desk who doesn’t give a shit about you and only wants your sorrow to make more money off of things you don’t need based on self-hate? Who do these negative emotions serve eh? Not you. And you are all you have to be concerned with. You are as you are. As you are is how you should be. There is no “supposed to” in reality, Mae love. There is only a culture that hates women. And you are so very fuckin' far above their standards and expectations I cannot even begin to tell you. You are otherworldly. A soul full of sunshine and vulnerability. Things most humans hide from. You are growing and with that comes those damned waves of emotions. This is why we do the shadow work, yeah? We accept all parts of us, and release what no longer serves us? I’m not just talkin’ out me arse love. I promise.”

“You...really?” she sniffles.

“Not to force any standards of beauty upon you my darling little sunspot but you are the most beautiful soul I have ever encountered and will ever encounter. To me you are perfection and I hope one day to make you see that as well.”

She begins to cry again and he takes her back into his arms. “You’re so nice to me-ee-e.” she stutters.

“Only honest pet. You created life with your thoughts today Mae bug!” he squeezes her upper arms. “You are so powerful. And you’ve barely scratched the surface. Now let's dry those tears, right? Let’s take off this shroud of negativity you call a jumper.” he chuckles and takes it off her and then pats her cheeks with it.

“It’s a sweater you cockney bastard.” she lets out a giggle that he answers with an amused snort.

“There she is.” he bops her on the nose. “A smart mouth and cheeky disposition was something I always did favor in a woman.” he muses and helps her up from the couch. “And you are a clever little thing. Far too smart to feel so low about yourself.”

“Thank you.” she says quietly.

“Now chin up pumpkin. We are going to go out and have a wonderful time, yeah? Celebrate your progress and the simple fact it is a beautiful evening and we just so happen to exist at the same time. That’s enough cause for a drink and a good meal.”

“You’re… very good with words.” she says as he fusses with her curls and wipes away any running mascara from her eyes.

“Thank you. Ol’ cockney bastard like me has to have something going for him, eh?” he grins.

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

Mae sat back and enjoyed the breeze in Alfie's antique car that resembled more of a boat to her. It was long, a bit excessive but it did suit him. Something quirky for a man that looked like some sort of mystical cult leader in dress and charm. He could feel the calm around them now. The late evening air humid but the breeze made it tolerable. With her head laid back in a nest of curls and her eyes closed the golden light of the sunset highlighted the round highs of her face. A round heart-shaped face with doll eyes and high cheek bones and a button nose sat in the middle of all the delicate softness. He smiles softly, glancing over and seeing her take in the day's last touch of sunlight as it sets.

“You seem to be doing better.” he speaks softly and pats her knee to break her from her half-hearted moment of meditation.

“I am.” She answers softly.

“You seem like the type to enjoy solitude and silence more than the company of others.”

“Yeah. When I was young I wanted to have ‘my’ people so bad. My own little group. But then I got used to being alone. Now I prefer it.”

“When other's lower vibrations drain your energy it’s hard to want to be around that. We can work on shielding. But tonight is about a good time. What is a good time for you Mae? What is that moment you just sit and relish in and appreciate?”

She tilts her head in thought. Blinking slowly she tries to find her happy place. “In the morning on Sundays. I’ve slept well and have the day off. I’ve got my favorite mug and I’m in my little spot in the sunroom. It’s raining and Percy is asleep on the bench. My music is playing in the kitchen. Outside is quiet and all you hear is the rain. You can forget you live around people on those mornings. Everything foggy and dewy and the sheets of rain run off the glass ceiling.” She lets out a content exhale. “That’s my favorite time.”

“Lovely innit. Life’s simple pleasures.” He mused and scratches his chin. “I believe I can work with that.” He nods. “I know a little hidden beer garden I believe you might enjoy. We'll go there.”

“A beer garden?”

“Yeah.” He says obviously and confused by the questioning inflection in her voice.

“What’s that?”

He turns and blinks rapidly at her for a moment before looking to the road. “You dont-?” His brows furrowed in question. “You don’t know what a beer garden is?”

“Would I be askin' if I did?”

He lets out a small snort of amusement. “‘Spose not. A pub-a bar outdoors. This one's in the old part of the city.”

“I don’t go there much because of the tourists.”

“No tourists where we’re going. Not exactly Bourbon street.”

“So an outside bar? Do they call those beer gardens? Weird.”

“Well, I think you not having tea in every restaurant is weird.”

“We got sweet tea.” She grins.

“We are not having this argument again Mae. That abomination is NOT tea. It’s sugar water in a cowboy hat.”

She lets out a giggle that warms him, recalling an almost argument on sweet tea and good British char one night before bed. Mae didn’t see what the big deal was. But she was promptly informed by Alfie it’s because she was a bloody yank so she never would.

————————-

The place he took her was off the beaten path. A small old white building with a courtyard in the middle with small iron tables and canopies. It was quiet and rustic and full of plants along the walls and in decorative planters. It felt green and wet and lush and alive and she felt oddly at home. A gentlemanly pulling out of her chair before he sat, his crystal pendants glinted in the sun around his neck. They lay at the edge of his vest, a dark and worn fabric over his usual worn in white button ups.

“Order whatever you like darlin' this is a treat for you.”

“I’m gonna order sweet tea.”

“Cheeky bugger.” he smirks and keeps his eyes on the menu.

“I’m not sure.” She says quietly.

“When I say order what you like I do mean you could order the whole fuckin' thing.”

She blinks and thinks a moment. “What if I actually did?” Her big curious eyes have a smile to them as she looks his way.

“I wouldn’t have to worry bout cookin' dinner for a tick then would I?” He answers with a playful nod her way. “I think I’ll go with seafood.” He says after a long pause. “No point in wastin' bein so close to the water eh? Perhaps calamari to start. Fried, of course, because you lot can’t just leave things be.”

“Never had that.”

“Hmmph. Guess you will be tonight.” He affirms with a nod.

“We could get the variety appetizer. I haven’t tried escargot either.”

“A day of firsts calls for a night of the same.” He declares confidently to her. “We are here for you Mae. Indulge.”

———————————

They sit among multiple plates and drinks, the frosted glass of the table growing cool as the sun sets and the garden lights and music turned on. A little candle was lit on the table for “ambiance” the waitress said with a wink. Mae tried to hide a blush but ALfie felt the ruffle of energy come from her and hid an amused smirk.

“Can I have some of your-?”

“Yes, of course, scoot ya bum over here.” Alfie chuckles and pulls her chair next to him. With their arms pushed together she lets out a small but audible content sigh. She continues to pick at his appetizers and he at hers. A vibrating calm between them as they touch.

“Nice innit?”

“It’s really good.” Her answer is muffled by the food in her mouth.

“The food is yes but not what I meant.”

“Wat.” She says with stuffed cheeks and wide questioning eyes.

“This.” He holds his hand out palm up on the table.

She looks at it and blinks.

In his head, he hears. “What the fuck?” And he laughs.

“Put your hand over mine Mae bug.” He chuckles as he holds her hand a few inches above his own. She holds in and swallows, she gives a small shiver in response. He touches his fingertips to hers.

“It tickles.” She giggles and slaps his hand.

“Not into tickling?”

She shrugs. “Not really? Not really had it done before.”

“How’s bout this?” He asks with a nod of his head, lacing their fingers together and resting

“Mmm.” She hums and smiles at him. “That you or the alcohol?”

“Can’t take credit completely. Can’t feel it myself without you.” He says it matter of factly but he feels the sentimental response like warm honey through his veins.

She studies his face a moment and then their hands, taking her time and connecting and disconnecting, tips then palms, moving to put as much skin to skin as she can. With their arms and shoulders pushed against one another, she speaks softly in realization, “It's when we touch.”

He makes a grunt of agreement. “What’s it feel like for you?” His curiosity gets the better of him.

“It’s...good.” She says after a pause.

“You can be more descriptive than that.” He scolds playfully.

“Than what’s it like for you?” She sass's back and takes a drink with her free hand.

“There was a place...long long ago I lived alone. Which is what I preferred. I got away from my old life, a pipe dream to be sure. But it was the happiest I had been before...this life. Feels like that relief. But without the loneliness.” He looks at her and she once again has tears in her eyes. “Oh come now love do your eyes ever dry?” He laughs and dabs at her cheeks.

“That’s better than I could ever put it.” She says and smiles. A sniffle and she squeezes back. “It’s our souls right? They missed each other this much? It’s like I feel warm down into my bones.”

“We missed you more than even my silver tongue can express.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “I must’ve missed you too. Because this feels…” she smiles sweetly and puts her head on his shoulder, only feeling more contentment. “Feels right.”

“Like morning sunshine. Warm and dare, I admit,  happy.”

“Probably Like a good hug or like when Ruth makes me a pie when I’m sad.”

“I do suppose that would be rather good.”

“The best.” She smiles as she rests her cheek on him. “Man… people are missing out. This is like drugs.” She softly laughs.

“Why did you say it's probably like a good hug? Odd way to put it.”

“Well… people say hugs from people you love or miss are the best.” She pauses. “But I don’t know that I’ve ever had one of those.” She admits.

“I admit I don’t know how you aren’t beloved by everyone. A sunspot like yourself should know of everything good and pleasurable in life. You deserve only the best Mae. And if I can help it I’ll help you feel the love you’ve deserved. Show you how to open up. You are a white witch after all, you radiate love.”

“Guess it’s all going out and not stayin' in” she mumbles and gives him a half-smile. It was a rather good observation.

“So many things you haven’t done yet” Alfie muses as he feels her inexperience in her thoughts.

“I can… feel you up in there.” She pulls away and shakes her head, curls bouncing. She shivers. “That’s so strange I can… feel you in there now.”

“You’re learning how to.”

“It kinda… feels like you’re scratching an itch in my brain.”

“Because I mean no harm, only help.”

“Does it hurt if a bad person is trying to get in my head?”

“For a sensitive little bean like yourself, I would assume so. It’s all about intention. As I’ve said. I see loneliness and fear of missing out and I want to alleviate it. So with good intention brings good feeling.”

“What are you seeing?”

“I don’t want to upset you, darling.”

“It’s my head it won’t upset me.” she snorts.

“I see you alone at a school dance. On the bleachers. Watching everyone else dance together.”

“Yeah. That is a bit upsetting.” She shrugs. “But a long time ago.”

“It was...the first time you felt a real romantic rejection and alienation.” He squints his eyes as he saw a small underdeveloped Mae in an out of style hand me down dress hiding tears as a boy she thought might’ve liked her looked at her and laughed with his date that was the opposite of what she looked like.

“Yeah… it got easier after that.”

“Shutting out everyone else isn’t easier Mae it’s self-sabotage.”

“Well.” She says thoughtfully. “It made it hurt less.”

He looks down at her with understanding. She was so full of life and emotion and she was robbing herself from fear and it made him sad for a moment to see her potential being stunted due to the hateful actions of others. “I’m here to show you how to master your emotions to unlock your potential, love.”

“That sounds...exhausting.” She looks down at his hand and rubs its embrace with her thumb.

“Nah. We can start small.” He insists with a look around. “Let’s start by checkin' something off your list.” He implores as he begins to rise.

“Like what?”

“I’m going to give you that dance.” He states obviously

“I don’t...I’m not a dancer.”

“Neither am I?” He laughs. “It’s about the experience. With it grows your confidence. It’s simple, I’ll show you.”

“I know HOW I just…” she glances around. “I don’t wanna in front of people.” She whispers

“I can fix that. Make it so no one notices us.”

“You can do that?”

“I can do most things you could ever imagine.” She looks around the small courtyard and weighs her options. He stood with a steady hand outreached .”I could even SHOUT ABOUT HOW ICED TEA IS SHIT...and no one can hear.” He grins.

Her eyes go wide but see's no one even glances their way as she rises to her feet. “Are we invisible?”

“No, just an illusion of the mind.”

“Can I be invisible?” She asks as he pulls her to the open center of the patio space.

“I can show you how to be very elusive. Although I don’t know why you would want to be.”

“Because I’m shy. Crippled with anxiety. Full of trauma. Where do you want to start?” She answers honestly but with a chuckle.

“We’ll start with this.” He pulls her close and minds his hands to keep it PG. She was skittish enough without adding physical affection to the mix.

She slowly gives in to his affectionate embrace. A simple back and forth and distanced as she’d wanted in her memory. He can feel the remnants of hurt the memory left around her, her yellow energy turning blue. “I know it means nothing when a man says these sorts of things, and only time will prove it to be true but you don’t have to worry about me rejecting your true self Mae. You do know that?” She looks up at him, knowing she must’ve been very bad at hiding her fear. “As cliche as it is we were made for each other and I have no intentions of abandoning this partnership.” He pauses and she lets out a heavy sigh. “I know love it seems like everyone has left you that’s said that. But I won’t yeah?” He gives her cheek a gentle playful stroke.

“Thank you. For trying to help me.” She says softly, feeling a warmth that wasn’t from the summer evenings still wet heat. “For being nice while I’m… still all...fucky.” She grins and lets out a soft laugh. “I know I’m grown but I feel like such a child sometimes. I’m kinda glad you can read my mind because with feel like I don’t even know what’s going on in there sometimes.”

“You’re going through a...magical puberty Mae and you’re doing wonderfully. I only celebrate things worth it and today-and your work was. Excess innit? Folks like us aren’t meant to be about it. It’ll go to our heads.”

“Good thing I don’t have to worry about that.”

“Your powers are just beginning and you’ll grow as they do. You’ll come to understand yourself and the things you’ve been through as lessons. You have so much power within you little one you’ll be astounded one day looking back at your life before. We have so much to gain, and it’s worth these emotional outbursts your human self insists on having.”

“You make everything sound so fancy and purposeful.”

“It’s just the age and accent dear.” he grins.

“You’re very wise.” She insists with big soft eyes. “I’m glad you’re my person. I need someone to keep things straight like you do.” She leans in and hugs him but doesn’t pull away.

He smiles down at her, a flutter in his stomach for this small gentle creature being accepting of him despite the dark monstrosity he had fancied himself for so long. “You’re too kind Mae.” He places a kiss on her bouncy head of curls and settles into a comfortable embrace.

She sighs and surprisingly to him cozies up to his chest. “I like these Feel Good drugs” she grins as he holds his hand to her bareback with her head on his chest. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Course. Always will be.” they both feel it warm and encompassing them both. A moment of being on the same page and the barriers between them thin.

———

They stuffed themselves on seafood and local beef and ease was between them now that hadn’t existed before. A bit of honesty went a long way with Mae. Her nature was very trusting in general and optimistic, so Alfie's reassurance left her feeling much more relaxed than she had in a long while. Alford was practiced at restraint as Mae was not. So he could not only feel but see in her eyes as they parted for the night to go to their rooms that she didn’t want to separate. He found it very endearing of her to want him around. He would as always have her make her own choices in her own time. Make her ask for the things she wanted. So instead of making the giant step of sleeping in the same bed, platonically, mind you, he simply whispered a soft intention as she snuggled into her own bed and yearning for that comfort he gave her now.

“Sleep well little one and may the morning find you as sunny as it.”

She hears him in her head and sighs, a happy one this time.

“Goodnight Alfie.” She murmurs, trying to send the thought his way and not knowing if she succeeded. But she had.

@jaegeeeeer​  @brianaisasongbird​ @hardygal69​ @emerald-bijou​ @captstefanbrandt​ @coolgh0st​ @tinastarkandco​ @xstylishmileage​   ​ @peakys-mystic @likedovesinthewnd​

[slaheir]

STUDY  :  HISUI

۝  BASICS

IS YOUR MUSE TALL  /  SHORT  /  AVERAGE? He seems pretty tall for his age??? I mean given Kohaku’s probably not the tallest person out there but for some reason I just think he began to sprout up like a tree and is still very much growing boy. His sister’s are definitely taller than him but I think he’s taller than Moroha and probably slightly more than Setsuna and close if not the same height as Towa.

ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT? Yeah, teasing like that doesn’t really bother him except when his sister’s are needling him about his forehead.

WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE? His hair's pretty long. Miroku’s was about at his shoulders and Hisui’s ponytail is slightly fuller and seems to have more to it so I’d say his is just past his shoulders. He won’t cut it and wears it tied back, like his father and Uncle have shown him to do so it doesn’t become a means of exploit in battle. Who knows, maybe one day he’ll have a ponytail like mama. 

DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR  /  GROOMING? I don’t think so? Like, he’s definitely hygenic and takes care of his appearance but just pulling it back like that tells me he’s a two step kinda guy and is kind of on the always on the go. 

DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE  /  WHAT OTHERS THINK? I think he’s definitely a sensitive boy but would really only care about the opinions of people that care about him. If his mom, father or Uncle said he looked unprofessional he’d clean up, for sure. The only thing he’s adamant about is the way he wears his uniform and the collar around his neck. He finds it too restricting and distracting in a fight. 

۝  PREFERENCES

INDOORS OR OUTDOORS? Outdoors

RAIN OR SUNSHINE? Sunshine, because it’s easier to train and fight demons when you’re not slipping and sliding through grass or mud.

FOREST OR BEACH? Forest

PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS? Precious metals. He works with his hands a lot and cleans a lot of his own weapons and admittedly has shown some of his teammates how to care for theirs.

FLOWERS OR PERFUMES? Flowers. He brings them home for his mom and sisters a lot.

PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE? Personality, for sure. 

BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD? Either. I like to say that he does sometimes prefer to be alone with his thoughts but more often then naught he’ll chase after or offer to do something with his family or friends because he likes spending time on them.

ORDER OR ANARCHY? Order. Keeper of the peace, future hero of the village! >3

PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES? Painful Truths. He’d rather his family be honest with him and let him deal and process things than keep things from him. Yeah I’m looking at YOU Uncle Kohaku, we know the series is gonna go there and you’re defs hiding something from my boy.

SCIENCE OR MAGIC? Magic. It’s feudal japan so.

PEACE OR CONFLICT? Peace. He fights to protect people so they can have an easy future (and in his family’s case they deserve it)

NIGHT OR DAY? Both? Depends on the shift work.

DUSK OR DAWN? Dawn, new start. New begginings.

WARMTH OR COLD? Warmth. He’s a warm person and definitely makes others feel good about themselves.

MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS? Both. He’s well known in his community and has a few close friends he spends a lot of time with.

READING OR PLAYING A GAME? Reading. He likes talking to his father about his beliefs because he recognizes he has much to learn from Miroku as he does from Sango.

۝  QUESTIONNAIRE

WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS? Hisui gets in his head. A LOT. He internalizes and worries about other people. He worries about living up to expectations and falling short of them or failing to do something right. He has a few insecurities and definitely a lot of vulnerability and survivors guilt in some verses that I write. He wants so badly to be someone his parents are proud of. They fought to give him a comfortable, safe, full life so he owes that to them right?

HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM? This verse dependent so I’ll try and outline a few.

In my canon Yashahime verse, that’s developing as the series progresses we see that Sango, Miroku, and his sisters are all gone and the only family member he has left is his Uncle Kohaku. Now varying outcomes of how he feels depends on how much he a) remembers and b) what he’s been told. I have a sneaking suspicion that both Kohaku and Hisui were out training when whatever happened went down. Thus, he’d know that he had a family but to the extent of what he believes happened and how much he knows - we don’t yet. However this will be a VERY IMPORTANT defining moment to Hisui’s character. Because while some of the other main cast may not remember they even had families he does. And to have this happen to him HURT HIM DEEPLY. I don’t know how he’d possibly process those emotions or if he even fully has. I feel like he threw himself into his training, carried on with his life either again - depending on what he knows - hoping to find them again someday or just believing their dead and trying to continue on. But regardless, family for him in this verse is a VERY touchy subject and not something to talk to him about. He’s pushed his Uncle away whenever the subject’s been broached and after not talking for a few days, they’ve just moved on and went back to the way things were before. This verse hurts me a lot so I need all these children to be reunited with their parents at the end of this Sunrise, okay??? >’(  you better not do me dirty. MirSan and InuKag deserve better. 

In my canon divergent yashahime slayer verse, Hisui has all of his family nothing really bad has happened - the only lesson he’s learnt thus far is to be more careful. I’ve mentioned an incident in this verse where he saved a young girl during a demon’s attack on their village but took a bad injury in his leg that became infected and left him bedroom for 6-8 weeks. This was his first reality check and he had to work hard to get back to where he was physically, but he’s much less impulsive than before and only gives (a few) hero speeches every once in a great blue moon because xD he’s just never gonna grow out of that. 

WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS? Applies to several Canon Divergent and AU verses.

Oh god so many. I’ll list a few here.

- training with his mother and uncle. Watching them glow with pride as he grows up and gets better and better, wanting to help them rebuild their village. 

- walks and late night talks with his father. Those are REALLY special to him and he remembers distinctly his father carrying him back to bed when he was young, having fallen asleep as he was teaching him a lesson about life. Miroku tucks him and smooths back his hair and tells him quietly that he loves him so much. 

- mother passing on her hiraikotsu and kirara to him, one morning out of the blue. He’s speechless and ends up crying and hugging her tight. 

- days, afternoons and evenings spent over at his aunt and uncles. He helps Kagome do laundry, plays with moroha and sometimes his sisters join. 

- Since he was a baby he follows inuyasha around and tries to imitate his swagger and confidence. Inuyasha loves his nephew he’s such dorky cute little potat. 

- Getting the lecture of his and moroha’s LIFE when they took their parents weapons to go train in the forest. 

- spending time with the wolf demon tribe when their folks had to go on out of town missions as a group. Koga, Moroha and Hisui fishing, training, running off to go fight things that are ten times stronger than them and Koga dragging their asses back to his pack to blister their ears like wHY is it always YOU TWO. But he loves those trouble makers.  

IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL? evil demons? A hundred percent. Doesn’t bat an eyelash because they’re preying on people and he needs to protect them. Regular humans though, that are evil and preying on women and children weaker than them? He has a hard time. He doesn’t understand how a person can be that much of a vile monster. And though he should have the stomach for it, sometimes he really doesn’t. He hates injuring people possessed by demons too. He’s like his father in that he’ll try and non lethally exorcise it or beat it out of them and help care for their wounds later. 

WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN? Oh.. My. Gosh. My heart. He’s really.... soft boy and keeps a lot of his emotions to himself so when he breaks down it’s water works. Hiccups, heavy breathing, just shivers and trying to snuff out the sound he’s making but he only gets louder and louder till he has to let it all out. Like, we heard his lungs as a kid. Boy can cry a river.

IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE? Absolutely. WHen he fights beside Setsuna and Kohaku he knows they have his back. He wouldn’t even question that for a second, just as they (probably) wouldn’t question their trust in him. He’d fight hard to protect them and know they would do the same. His family too, the few times in my canon divergent verses he’s fought beside his mother or father and Inuyasha and Moroha. 

WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE? I think maturity wise he’s not there yet. He’s still young and has a lot he wants to focus on and do with his life. Speculatively, I think when he’s older he would definitely want the kind of open, affectionate, caring relationship that his father and mother have. That he sees his Aunt and Uncle have. But that’s a long ways down the road. 

Tagged by: @shirokodomo (thanks el!)

Tagging: @senpujin , @eternityheir , @crimsonkunshu , @amorous-monk and whoever else wants to do/steal this !!!!!

[dantesinfcrno]

trigger warnings !!  suicide, suicidal thoughts, drug use / overdose, body horror, death, blood, violence, self harm, abusive relationships. most importantly, bad writing!

                                𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈  ：𝐇𝐘𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀 .

frigidity, heartlessness ╱ the absence of love ╱ virgin mary, corrupted .

winter child with shards on its mouth –– the snow quivers before khione, goddess whose lips do not tremble. cataclysm upon birth, no life to be seen as monster opens its eyes. before words could be uttered, before a name could be given to beast, untamed, it knew of fate. worthless creature, undeserving of shedding a tear. void big enough to fill any mansion, all touch lost –– who would cradle an interrupted demon, a fallen angel?  who would wipe the anguish that never created roots inside tiny body, broken?  

                                                         ( … )

one vivid memory: it sitting down in the floor a living room ( no house is ever the same: all empty in a pantheon of different ways ). it is invisible, as Father dreams of his own tales, as Mother unravels the world. no one holds it up. –––– galatea?  –––– it calls for Her, voice too firm for a child, first words incisive ╱ poignant knife. She stares into its eyes, peering at the chaos She created –– and turns Her back.

                                                         ( … )

verses wrote themselves against its skin, fairies would whisper secrets into its heart. before it could walk, small deity devoured books –– in search of a love he did not know of, this powerful feeling it could never obtain. the titans who gave birth to lucifer ╱ lilith, anew, could spare it no sweet nothings. the tutors brought in could not hold down treacherous creature, could not embrace it, could not understand it. oh, the gentle kiss that would break the curse. oh, the sweet princess that would awake humanity inside tainted guts. the choirs sang of redemption, absolution –– but they also snarled at child born with a target on its back, holy water falling at its feet. you were never meant to receive tenderness ; you shall not know what love entails. it all echoed inside this fortitude: melancholy the only tune beast ever knew ╱ maddening: to never be touched ; to never be loved without worship, without loathing.

                                                         ( … )

poignant claws would drag themselves over a violin, and he interrogated the stars. who else, who else. can famine become savior?  can ferocious teeth learn to taste another’s core without devouring it whole?  i can try, i can try. boy, blizzard –– locking itself in the garden of eden, mortality discovered as fingers bleed, as thorns find home in the anatomy of god, interrupted. –––– you can be anything you desire, vessel. –––– serpent hisses, crawling up its core. –––– i choose to live. i choose to love all monsters, made out of darkness & concrete alike. –––– dante replies, half-smothered, half-breathing, apple tasting sanguine on his lips. ophidian smiles, knowing this end will be self-made. –––– you can’t be helped, child, you can’t be helped.

                  –––––– 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 . ––––––

                               𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈  ：𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐀 .

resentment, anger ╱ agape ╱ your presence soothes me .

to seize the adoration one was never deserving of: a sin, an addiction. bringer of nightmares, a king crowned with madness –– and all he wants is all he can never have, prince amongst commoners, crawling through cobbled streets in search of scraps. there is relief in the tender stares he receives from older women, insisting him to turn back and find home. i don’t have one, i never had one. bones of a boy, muscles of a boy, but he –– savage, feral, bleeding life into a world that despises him.

                                                         ( … )

this is what he knows of love: he must give it, even when it hurts –– somebody must be willing to rip their own flash, gift it away, and remain lacking forever. with hate, he learns this: puncture your flesh in order to feed the mouths that bite your legs ; turn your head to receive double the punishment, as it might turn you palatable ( they all want to break you, and if you shatter prettily enough, you might find gilded dregs to store inside your ribs ) ; swallow what no one wants to hear &  drown in it.

                                                        ( … )

being made entirely of open wounds, there is no deity capable of dragging him back to the fiery pits that gifted him life ╱ gifted him curse. lucky vessel, so close to a heart of his own. he rips one off a deer ( unfortunate as all that cross his path ) ; does not recall his face as he becomes other. the horror of inevitability is the only beauty he knows of, as he undresses, carrying only skin &  blood. summer child ╱ crooked teeth, crooked smile. eris lies underneath ophelia: sweet, poisoned honey. there is an empty space, and there is laughter by its side. lord shiva, this is all i have, this is all i am. is there any other way to love, but to turn into madness?  dante’s shrines are always filled with silence –– but he still brings limbs, lungs, livers as offerings to friends, lovers, foes.

                                                         ( … )

light quivers through the cracks –– through the smile always perched on his lips, meaningless. he embraces the world: atlas, knee-deep in dirt, bound to shackles rooted in tartarus. he bears the weight with joyous laughter, bullet-wound on his throat. unconditional love to all but himself. –––– this is how my salvation will come. –––– he mumbles, wine-drunk, licking aphrodite’s mouth. oracle, foolish in his hopefulness. –––– i will love, love, love, until the point of murder. i will love the unlovable ; and i won’t ask for anything in return. –––– as he kisses madness into a stranger’s lips, as his body becomes a one night miracle for those who need it most. –––– i can give, and give, and give, and you won’t hear my voice begging for anything else. –––– as he lays in a bed that is not his own, as he wraps his tongue against quickened pulse, as he becomes one with a galaxy that had long disowned him. dante holds the unknown in his arms, and promises to adore it ( sweet, inescapable destiny ╱ ouroboros: we therefore commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, beast to beast ).

            –––––– 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟                  𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐨��𝐛. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟,                               𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 . ––––––

                               𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈𝐈  ：𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄 .

withering hope, abandonment ╱ philautia ╱ unfading love .

there is a limit to what forsaken hands can do. dante has picked stars, reached burning celestial bodies, cut his palms while tending to flowers with more thorns than petals. maybe i will encounter the lacking piece ; maybe there is half a soul to be found. a possibility is all that drives him forward, as skies turn grey and greyer. death is served, and young piece of sunshine ╱ corrupted shard of blood moon refuses to take it. i will keep on living –– i refuse to pass, i will not become more ghost than i already am. he moves around life, life runs right through him –– a sword lodged below his collarbone, forcing him to cough up blood. he is not a memory anyone can have. dante thinks about his absence in a world that already feels much like nothing: everchanging figure with a thousand names, an opaque face, a hidden mouth.

                                                        ( … )

merciless crow weighs heavily on his shoulder –– that, a haunting dante can’t run away from. he pledged the remnants of his tortured soul ; promised to bloom flowers inside of his guts ; swore he would not howl when the thorns slayed him. –––– how do i love without feeling it flow in my body, how do i love without receiving it in my bloodstream?  –––– fallen next to thanatos, locked away in a luxurious bathroom, he wonders and wonders. foolish messenger, victim of hubris ╱ icarus, aware the sun would burn his wings, but taking the leap of faith &  crashing, drowning in saltwater. –––– who am i to challenge the gods? –––– he murmured, anguish sorrow rising and falling in the rhythm of his chest. dante remembers rain falling endlessly –– but, most of all, he remembers silence. –––– oh, dear. i am alone, aren’t i?  –––– he questions a ghost, tears rupturing his flesh. what he tried to hide meets sunlight in its last breaths. miserable boy, crestfallen human –– he discovers himself once he uncovers death. soothsayer full of shame, guts filled with medicine, wrists torn by ache. what prophecy could he utter with such a defiled existence?  no one will come for him, is his last rational thought. no one will remember him. dante: nothing, no one, infinitesimal. –––– all i have tried to give is all i do not have. –––– the veil falls from his face and the earth quiets.

                                                        ( … )

he wakes up, bittersweet taste lingering in his body. my bones have finally shattered, he muses, not entirely awake, i have nothing else to give. his tutor does not spend the night by the side of his hospital bed ( white, everything pearlescent, pristine, sickening ), and dante doesn’t expect his parents to come –– and they don’t. ordinary, meaningless existence. he should have passed to another realm, but he had vowed to keep on living. –––– fate is anything but forgiving. –––– is what he mumbles to a kind nurse: the one individual worried for him, but only because it is her job. he holds her by the wrist one day, mouth opening and then closing. can you stay with me?  can you let me go?  –––– thank you. –––– and there are no other words he is able of uttering throughout his stay. alone, is all he’ll ever be, no pink hues to enlighten his days. he notices his age in a file, wrong by two years, but does not say anything about it. who cares?  who cares but you?  do you at all?  

                                                         ( … )

his scars do not turn into bird wings. what should i fear, if not death, if not desolation?  the torment of being devoured –– no, that is what he loves the most. in one of many nights ( lustful, adoring, fickle ), basile fast asleep by his side, dante’s fingertips caress exposed skin –– brutal tenderness, a blade he could never inflict upon himself. –––– i think i can only ever love whatever part of me when i find it mirrored in you, mon cher. –––– he confesses, obsidian irises shining. to hold on, to make room for fragile things, to fracture in the same crevices, even with leaden bones. –––– dragons and butterflies are one in the same, aren’t they?  –––– dante whispers, cherry lips dragging across basile’s ears as emerald cradles carnelian closer, closer.

          –––––– 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 . ––––––

                       𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐕  ：𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 .

unfortunate attachment ╱ philia ╱ i have lost all .

grief supposedly works like this: denial ; anger ; bargain ; depression ; acceptance. dante has never fell into the latter –– there was not a day he felt his mother’s absence as an axiom. galatea died in his arms, no last breath redemption gifted to her only heir, but her number remains his emergency contact. perhaps–– this is the closest he will get to love: half-ghost, half-illusion ; one he can confess all his sins to ; one that will not reprimand him no more ; one hollow image ╱ sacrilegious saint he can pour his most selfish desires onto. once her body is laid five feet underground, dante kneels. –––– i would have done you a favour, mother, had i died before you.

                                                         ( … )

dante’s dismay is always reminiscent of a forest, petrichor, and a bonfire put out during the night. galatea by his side, barely addressing his existence. miles deep into the woods, birds were singing once he heard mother, titaness, whimper. dante reached for her, cradled her, hugged her –– for the first time, for the first time, for the last time. intact arrows were lodged on her throat, on her chest. what could he do? –––– stay with me, please. –––– dante begged and begged, but galatea’s eyes were no more. trembling hand holding cold fingers, desperate cries as he forced himself to walk, to search for an exit he knew no longer existed. his feet were cursed with blisters once he found a small village, his cheeks marred by dried tears, his arms covered in matriarchal blood. catatonic emptiness –– and each new fracture of his soul was a new explosion, sharp, dangerous, lost. he remained by her side, acute desperation as the reality crashed upon him, a rogue wave. –––– come back to me. –––– as he curled his body next to hers. always freezing, you were always this cold anyway. –––– come back. you have to come back. –––– as he clung to her limbs, as his eyes sunk in sorrow. does this pain have a name?  

                                                        ( … )

poppy’s empty room and the vacant space left by galatea were one in the same. dante lingered around her bed, head throbbing –– grief never leaves, it only evolves into smothering shadow. dante places a small bouquet atop her pillows, mumbles a prayer in a faint voice. –––– i never had much. –––– he whispers, and hopes poppy can hear him, feel him. –––– but i had you. and i will find you, baby girl. i promise i will. –––– there are no smiles to brighten up his complexion, no light shining through his ribs. this night, like many others, is spent entirely on research. who can i reach next?  what can i sell of my soul to have you back?  

                                   –––––– 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 . ––––––

                           𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕  ：𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍 .

departure, resignation ╱ pragma ╱ all good things come to an end .

spring child, full of heartache. oh, how he wishes he could give it back: so many lives lost as he aimed for a pulse of his own, and dante now chases numbness. bodies become a blur, just in time for him to turn into a ghost. cheap whiskey and smoke mix themselves in his tongue, there are pills dissolving in his mouth, there is a stranger pressing him up against a wall. why is it not enough?  why must i crave what i can never have?  oh, to grow yourself a heart only for a friend to pull it out, for a friend to crush it beneath their feet. foolish boy. you should’ve been grateful for the void i gifted you, is the echo growing inside his brain, his mother’s voice a tortured ghost. to believe one could truly love him –– the most reckless of all behaviours, the pain that could extinguish him into dust. what is heavier than this emptiness?  what is more consuming than this void? –––– she … she told me she was going to find someone else to go home with. –––– hollis’ words can’t be erased from his mind, and dante finally crumbles beneath their weight.

                                                        ( … )

his eyes are swelled up once he reaches london. perhaps, there is a limit –– even for a demon, even for a grotesque creature. perhaps, as he crawls atop galatea’s grave, he meets his end. knife wound, love wound: it bleeds all the same. his body is freezing, even when the night is still –– there is an image replaying in an infinite cycle behind his eyelids, frozen tears clinging to reddened cheeks. –––– was saying ❝ i love you ❞ my undoing?  –––– he murmurs into the night, the claws of a demon resting upon his shoulders, smothering and lukewarm, and shivers caress his spine ( tiny spiders, nails across a chalkboard, vermins crawling through a corpse ). –––– he asked me to find him, and i did. –––– there is no humour in his laughter. such unforgivable stupidity, and he can only punish himself for it. unsheathed talons lacerate his scalp: apathy as a life-threatening poison, as he sinks rotten nails inside of his flesh and hopes to come up with a crown, reborn. there is no rage as perished daisies become his halo, as dead mother becomes dead son, on his knees, forehead to the ground. cold rain soaks up his bones: a preferable fate to succumbing to loneliness –– suffering, but religious ( i am only holy when broken, i can only adore as a morgue does with a corpse ). can rose taste him in basile, he wonders?  is he too fleeting to be felt, even by a tourmaline angel?  –– the one that loves him, loved him, somehow. melinoe whispers in his ear ( mother of madness, but he trusts her –– who else does he have? ) : that was a lie. what does one gain from worshipping you?  –– hell, fervent kisses, languid hands, consuming touch, everything, too much, nothing at all.

                                                        ( … )

jester, conquering his way through pleasing his majesty’s body, filling his bed. oh, to be aware of one’s low worth –– never good enough, even when it came down to being used. tiring illusionist, shuffling the same cards, over and over and over… could he blame anyone for forsaking him?  ares, begging to be forgotten. no more pain, no more. the heavens are deaf, however, and it continues: plague in his bones ; hunger in his chest ; torture in his skull. if he stays down for long enough, perhaps no one will bother to look for him. pitiful dead boy turns blind man, hearing his last heartbeat, moonlight on his tongue, constellations on his lips. what is there to be said at his tombstone?  unknown, unloved, unmissed. this, the only way he’d ever be able to go. you may have broken my heart, but only i hold the power of shattering my own soul. water springs from his eyes: weeping angel, at home in a cemetery. –––– not even your ghost is capable of loving me, mother. and still, you’re all i have. –––– he whispers, restless, plunging prayers down the earth. love me, you should’ve loved me, love me, please.

                 –––––– 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞: 𝐚 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐭                                          𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 . ––––––

                            𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈  ：𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 .

you will be my death ╱ eros ╱ poisonous calamity .

eros finds him –– no mercy, no mercy. mercutio picks him up from the ground, dirty and paralyzed, says nothing. dante wakes up in his bed, undressed, filthy, sore. –––– you always come back, don’t you?  –––– the emerald’s voice reverberates in his head, each syllable another nail on his coffin. phobos &  deimos are also children of aphrodite, is what he learns with mercutio –– standing tall, smile of a hunter, canines of a wolf. –––– i am really everything you have, huh? –––– his laughter is haunting, and the desai becomes child, forgotten –– once more, once more. 

–––– i never had you. –––– dante mumbles, looking out the window. the abyss stares back, offers no answers, vanishes. –––– never had anyone at all.

                                                        ( … )

when the morning comes, mercutio presses dante against a wall –– hand around his neck, vicious. dante does not blink as breaths become shallow, as lights seem to fade. –––– i’m not scared of you, fool. –––– melancholy in defiance, tone dripping in dark blue. –––– kill me. I’m all yours. –––– and he smiles only after his feet touch the ground, a slap across his cheek. bitter glory. thanatos is always lingering in his spine, never daring to break him. untouchable, even by death. sobriety in nothingness, in madness: mercutio looks inside his soul, and realizes he is messing with a demon with nothing to lose. –––– you have stepped over my guts and claimed the beast inside of me as yours. you have more reasons to fear me than anyone else, and you better start acting like it. –––– dante bows, and leaves. always an actor leaving a stage –– trickster, villain or tragedy?  he doesn’t know anymore.

                    –––––– 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚) 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐛) 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐜) 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 ?  ––––––

                            𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈 ：𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 .

my regrets follow you to the grave ╱ memento mori ╱ remembered beyond the tomb .

dante comes back at midnight, after four long days. there are finger marks against his trachea, there are new quicksilver lines against his body, there is new darkness pressed underneath his eyes. quiet –– inside his heart, white noise. inside his mind, an ocean in which he’s drowning. for poppy, he muses, for poppy: he must move onward for her, if not for anyone else. he can barely hear his own heart, beating, struggling. just until i find her, and then...

[aria-i-adagio]

Echoes of the Past: Day 7, Occupation

Once she got started, Dema took her role of Anna’s apprentice with gusto.  Working as an apothecary provided her with structure and purpose that she was doing something worthwhile with her life.  She and Anna remained in Vesuvia during the plague and did what they could.  Anna eventually contracted the Plague.  She survived much longer than most Plague victims, which impressed Julian and led to him asking Dema to work with him in his clinic.  Dema never participated in Valdemar’s “research” in the palace, and Julian was very careful to keep her from it.

The sense of purpose in her occupation is what got Dema back on her feet after her aunt’s death and kept her in Vesuvia after Asra tried to get her to leave.  She believed that it was the right thing to do.  She could help, so she had to help, even as everything was becoming more desperate around her.

Excerpt, “This Body Breathes from Inertia”

“You did everything you could.  Literally, I, uh, couldn’t have done anything else.”  The doctor was young, only a few years older than me, and skinny as a bean pole and with the slightest hint of an accent when he spoke the trade language.  Shouldn’t say that.  Everyone had an accent when they spoke the trade language.  That was the point of a trade language.  He had a faint non-Vesuvian accent when he spoke the trade language.  

He wasn’t wearing one of those ghastly masks.  Thank God for that - if God still deserved thanks.  I was more in a mood to lay into God with every invective I knew.  Anna, my aunt, hated those masks.  Claimed they wouldn’t do much more than just covering your mouth with a kerchief anyway.  In the three weeks since her eyes started turning red, I had burnt every kerchief in the house and then given up entirely, assuming that I’d sicken soon enough anyway.

“I’m sorry.”  He took a tiny vial out of his bag and offered it to me.  “Laudanum.  It might help if she’s in pain, but only give her a drop or two at a time.  Anymore will -”

“I have opium.”  I cut him off.  I’m a fucking apothecary; of course, I have opium.  And the implication behind carefully stating just how much would be too much, well, I understood that as well.  “And if I decide that she’d want me to end it, I can think of at least five other admixtures I have the ingredients for that would do the job as well.  Keep that for someone else.  It won’t be very long now anyway.”

He put the bottle back in his bag, talking quietly as he does so, perhaps just to fill the silence as it’s all common knowledge.  “The carts come round in the morning.  I know it seems awful, but the mass graves, they’re the best way to minimize the contagion being passed on.  You should burn all that bedding too.”

I nodded absently and continued stroking the back of my aunt’s hand, counting the seconds between each increasingly shallow breath.  It didn’t seem awful; it was awful.  But he was right.  Even if the quarantines and the dead wagons - carting off the deceased like so many cattle - have done nothing thus far, they were the best of multiple bad options.

“Hey, do you, um, have anyone else?  Someone to help you, maybe.”

The doctor touched my shoulder, bringing me back from my grim musings.  I looked up at him, paying attention to his face for the first time.  Gray eyes, nearly lost in dark circles - he didn’t look like he’d slept more than I had in the past few weeks.  Friends?  I felt too empty to even think of myself as the type of thing that could have anything, much less friends.  There was Artemis, but she had been trying carefully to avoid the plague victims as much as she could.  It was too easy for her to spread the contagion to already vulnerable women and infants.  But I wanted Asra with me most.  “He’s traveling right now.”  I twisted the ring Asra gave me before he left - two trips ago, maybe, they blur together, he often seems like he’s gone more than he’s here - around on my finger.  He was supposed to return soon and bring with him some of the rarer herbs and medicines that we didn’t stock, that we hoped would do some more good for the plague than what we had tried some far.  But, he was too late.  As usual.  Always running late.

The doctor frowned, rummaged around in the pockets of his coat, and then handed me an unlabeled glass flask.  “For you.  Not officially approved, but it takes the edge off.”

I gave him a skeptical look.  This was not the sort of thing I expected from someone in ‘professional’ medicine.  But, what the hell?  I uncorked the bottle and took a swig, managing not to make a face as the liquor burnt its way down into my stomach.  My second drink was slower.  “It’s not bad.  I like a drink to bite me back, at least a little bit.  What is it?”

“Slivovitsa - plum brandy.  My grannies swear by it for basically everything.  Not that this is as good as theirs.”

I held the flask back out to him, but he shook his head.

“Keep it.”

Another cough racked Anna’s frail body - weaker than the last.  Any strength she had left to try and clear her lungs was fading fast.  I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rearranged the pillows behind her so that she’s a bit more upright.  Once she’s settled, I held a shallow cup of water to her cracked lips and blotted away what she doesn’t drink - most of it, probably all of it - with a square of cloth.  Another for the burning pile.

When I look up, the doctor was still watching me with those exhausted gray eyes.  There weren’t a lot of sad eyes left in Vesuvia; we’d all become too acclimated to pain and death to show any response on our jaded faces.  But his eyes were curiously, somehow, still melancholic.

“You can go.  I know you can’t do anything.”

“I, uh, I’ll stop by tomorrow.  To check on you.”

“You don’t have to.  We all know how this ends.”

“I will anyway.”

***

A few hours past midnight, her eyes blinked open for a moment, then with a final rattling cough, she died.  I convinced myself that she had looked at me, and faintly, ever so very very faintly, had squeezed my hand.  Maybe it really happened, maybe it was a figment of my sleep deprived imagination.  But believing it made me feel a little better.

I arranged her limbs into something that vaguely looked peaceful, surrounded her with flowers we had dried the past summer - chamomile, lavender, and rose - and knotted the bedsheets into a shroud.   Finally, I gathered her up in my arms, using magic to steady my self on the steps, but taking her diminished weight on myself, sure that I needed to do this last task for her on my own.  Some final, last acknowledgement who she was to me, since I couldn’t bury her properly.  

When dawn came with the wagons to collect the dead, I pacing in front of the shop,  shawl pulled tight against the cool air that passes for winter in the Vesuvian climate, and counting the cobblestones in the street to try to keep the roaring in my head at bay.  As the wagon pulled away, the roaring terminated, and I slumped back against the door of the shop, knees no longer able to bear my weight and curled into a small, shaking bundle of sobs.     

I pulled myself up after a passer by poked me with a stick to see if I was still alive, and staggered back into the shop, into my home.  Forced myself to drink a cup of water.  I should sleep.  I knew that I should sleep.  But I also knew I would dream, and I could predict what those dreams would be.  I didn’t want them.

I started taking apart the upstairs bedroom instead.  By late afternoon, I’d tossed all the bedding from the window to the yard below and dragged it far enough away that I wouldn’t set the shop on fire by mistake.  I summoned a flame, more than I really needed for the pile to catch light, but I was sad and angry, and it felt good to destroy something.  

I watched it burn, then started shooing my chickens - so happily oblivious - into their coop for the night.  As I latched the gate shut on their enclosure, a voice called to me from the gate.  Auburn hair was just visible above the high fence - the doctor from last night?  He had said he’s come by, but I hadn’t believed him.  Certainly that had just been a nice thing to say at the time.  I pulled the gate and looked him up and down.  No uniform, and there’s a wrinkled dog tagging along at his heels.

“Hey, I said I’d check on you.”

“She’s dead.  I’m alive.  Thanks.”  My response bordered on rude - no, actually, quite rude - but I didn’t really care, even if he was trying to be kind.  I didn’t have the emotional reserves to respond in the way I knew that I should.

My answer didn't seem to put him off.  “Can I, could I step in for a minute?  I wanted to talk to you.”

“Is your dog going to attack my chickens?”

He laughed, and it was an odd sound, almost shocking, maybe even scandalous, to hear laughter.  “Nah, I can promise that she’s too damn lazy to chase a chicken.”

I silently held the gate open for him, and he walked into the back yard.  The fire behind me has turned into a roaring blaze.  “Sorry, I didn’t get your name last night.”

“Oh, um, yeah, Julian Devorak.  You took me seriously about burning the bedding.”

“Yep.”  I folded myself into an ironwork chair.  Iron shouldn’t, couldn’t hold any of the plague.  In folktales iron would counteract the supernatural, quell it, and the longer this pestilence ravaged the city, the more rational accepting a fey, irrational origin for the suffering seemed.  Right?  Iron and fire.  Maybe those were the solutions.  “Cleaned out pretty much everything in that room.”    

“You did that all on your own?”  He sat down in the chair opposite of mine.  “I thought a neighbor or someone would -”

I gestured absently at the chair he’s sitting in and floated it a few inches off the ground.  Ah, yes, this isn't a folktale and iron doesn't counteract the supernatural.  Or at least iron doesn't counteract my magic.  So much for the supernatural as a diagnosis and iron for a prescription.  Back to square one.  Death, lots of death, from an unexplained and untreatable illness.  

As the chair rose, the doctor grabbed the arms and yelped in surprise.  His dog gave me a disapproving look that I did deserve, and I gently let the chair settle back onto the ground.

“I’m not exactly helpless.”

“I see that.”  His face has gone paler, if that was even possible, at the display of magic.  “But still.  I’m sorry that you, uh, had to do that alone.”

“The slivovitsa helped.”  I pulled the bottle out of my shirt pocket and drank the last mouthful.  I’d also been nursing a bottle of whiskey all day, half expecting Anna to step into the room and inform me that day drinking is not a healthy coping strategy.  But she hadn’t.  Of course she hadn’t.  Staring at the fire, I shrugged out of the bulky shirt I had on a sleeveless blouse and tossed it in with everything else.  Despite the fire, the night air chilled me quickly and I wrapped my arms tight around my torso.  I should probably burn all the clothing I’d worn while cleaning, but I supposed that can wait until the doctor - until Julian - leaves.  “Thanks for that.”

“When is your husband getting back?”

“Husband?”  It was staccato and bitter, but I couldn’t help but laugh as I imagined Asra's face at having that vocabulary applied to him.  His eyebrows would pull together for a moment, then the right one would lift in concert with the corner of his mouth curling in something halfway between amusement and disgust.

“Sorry, I assumed with the ring and you, uh, you said he.”

The alcohol in my blood said he was cute when him stammered.  Or at least, I blamed the alcohol.  

“You're observant.”  I picked up a stick and poked at the embers.  “He is at best a term of convenience when talking about Asra.  And I don't know what word you'd use for what we are.”  Lovers?  Non exclusive lovers - what’s the word for that?  Two people who keep coming home to each other, despite whoever and whatever else we got involved with in the interim.  I curled my free hand against my mouth, lips pressed against the ring I'm wearing.  “He should be home in the next week.  Should be.  Doesn't mean he will be.  He gets distracted sometimes.”  Distracted is also not quite the right word for Asra, but again, I’m not sure what word you would use to explain his convoluted, occasionally non linear sense of time.

“They've closed down the port.  I hear they're planning to seal off the city gates soon.”

“Oh, that won't stop him."  I sometimes suspected that Asra could pass through walls and step between mirrors if he so desired.  "Why are you here, Dr. Devorak?  I can't imagine you take this much interest in the family of every person who dies.”

“I, well, I meant it when I said I thought you did everything you could, and I wanted to know more about what you used.”

“She's still dead.”  One of the four universals, along with aloneness, lack of meaning, and the terrifying responsibility of free will.  But Death comes for us all, no matter the virtuous or unvirtuous choices we've made.  It bleaches them of meaning and abandons us in finitude.  Intellectualizing.  A coping mechanism.  Not always a good one.  But it's something.

“Yes, but . . .”

Anna had survived for three weeks after her eyes turned red, instead of the handful of days most plague victims counted.  After watching her become slowly feebler and feebler before slipping into that last long coma, I wasn’t convinced that was a good thing.  Perhaps it was easier to go quickly.  But still, I sighed and began to rattle off what Anna and I tried - first for our neighbors and customers who had come developed then sickness, then for her.  “Boneset and willow bark for the fever and aches.  Start the tincture at the new moon so that it will draw out the active parts of the plant.  Pleurisy root and horehound for the cough and the lung congestion as a oxymel.  A salve of ginger, arnica, and comfrey for swollen joints.  Those should be extracted into an oil while the moon is waning.  I use spellwork to complement the herbs, some of which I can attach to charms, some of which I have to be present to work.  All of that only treats the symptoms.  We tried echinacea and elderberry to build immune systems, but it didn't work.  I found a reference to an herb from the west that supposedly cured a plague there, but -”  I shrugged, it was a folktale in an old book, not a solid lead.  But library research was one of the things I knew I was good at, and lately I wasn’t feeling very confident in my ability to do anything.  “Asra is supposed to bring some back with him.  But none of it really seems to do any good.  Is there anything else you want to know?”

“I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to upset you.”

“I'm not upset.  I'm exhausted.”  The dog pushed her head into my hands, and I rubbed her velvety ears absently before pressing my face against her warm body, trying to fight back the tears that I had kept myself from crying for the entire day.  “And the only family that gave a damn about me just died, so excuse me if my conversation skills are lacking.”  I hadn’t heard from the rest of my family in years . . . not since . . . well, perhaps I couldn’t blame them.  My mother had - apparently - given up after the third letter I didn’t respond to.  My father had sent a book of sacred texts, littered with notes on scrap paper after I had first come to live with Anna, but nothing since.

He was silent for a minute, then I heard the chair shift as he stood up.  His hand was warm - more comforting than I could admit I wanted - when he placed it on my shoulder.  “Listen.  Just, uh, think about this.  When you're ready, I could use an assistant, preferably someone who knows something, because nothing I've tried works either.”

 I angrily wiped tears away from my eyes.  “What would be the point?  No one recovers from this.”

“I want to be the kind of person who at least tries.”  He squeezed my shoulder and without thinking, my head fell against his arm.  He moved again, kneeling behind the chair until he could wrap both of his arms around me in an awkward, surprisingly welcome hug.  “Just think about it, okay?”

[rosaguard]

summer waxes poetically about her favorite aeris gainsborough ships:

i never reblogged that five ships meme because...well i don’t have five aeris ships i care about lol. however, i was challenged(tm) so here is something close to it. i do feel like it is fitting to make this post on here since aeris was actually the first muse i truly started writing a ship on after asking someone first ( and i had been writing on tumblr for like...5 years on and off before that for context. anything before that was just..maybe flirting - nothing i felt invested in ).

aeris & happiness.

   the most important ship. the OTP. no other can compare. i think the biggest tragedy of aeris’ death is that so much was taken from her. she had so much to live for, so much to do, and her life was brutally and suddenly ripped away when she was finally getting the chance to figure herself out and rise to her full potential. i don’t want to aeris to die in the remake ( especially because everything about the whispers would’ve felt like a waste of time if nothing significant changes and aeris living is probably as significant as you can get ) but if it happens, it happens - i’ll just be really sad and disappointed by it lol. i’ve always been very clear that aeris’ death is not a bad one despite my blog canon essentially retconning it. there’s a reason she dies and it’s not to further cloud’s man pain ( he had enough of his own trauma already ); she dies because she’s a legitimate threat to sephiroth’s plans. she’s actually an example of a character death, especially a female one, done incredibly well, especially compared to SE’s recent output ( serah, luna, etc. ). also anyone who says she was created just to die is also wrong. barret was originally written to die first and they decided to change it.

    anyway, the point of me bringing all of this up is that i didn’t decide to do away with her death because i think SE sucks and they hate women. i did away with it because a lot of aeris’ character development ( her learning about the cetra at cosmo canyon, figuring out what the white materia does, etc ) is implied / off-screen since we never know her point of view and then well...she dies. i wanted to explore what her feelings would be if she woke up alive after being attacked while meteor is slowly drawing closer to the planet. how would she handle that? how would she feel? would she feel like a failure? would she be angry? what would she do after meteor is destroyed? would she travel the world? join the w.r.o? tell everyone to fuck off and then move to a cottage in the middle of nowhere and live the rest of her life in peace? these are the questions i wanted answered when i thought about aeris living. i don’t care if she ends up with cloud, or zack, or whoever because they don’t matter: aeris matters. she’s her own person with goals, desires, wishes, and more. no one talks about what she would want and do if she had lived. all people care about is what ‘man’ she belongs to as if she’s a prize to be exchanged between them.

   the second reason is simple that she fucking deserves it. she deserves it after living in a lab for 7 years and watching her mother die just trying to get her out. she deserves after having to deal with being stalked by the same company responsible for a lot of her suffering. she deserves to finally be around friends that make her feel loved, accepted, and cared for. she deserves to not feel alone, or like an outcast, or a freak because of her powers. she deserves to be able to go to icicle inn too and see footage of her father for the first time. she deserves to be able to go back to kalm and see her mom again. she deserves to live happily just like everyone else gets to do. her life has been filled with so much tragedy and pain yet she never lets it define her. she blooms in the face of adversity. she keeps smiling even up until the end of her life. she deserves happiness as her end-game and if i don’t get it in canon, i’m going to create it here myself.

aeris & cloud.

    i disliked this ship for a long time. it actually wasn’t because of the ship itself but due to some of my experiences with the shippers. i won’t go into my fandom experiences but i ran an account dedicated to ti.fa for almost six years so i’ve seen how...unpretty both sides of the 'ship war’ can get and it turned me off. a lot. when i decided to write aeris, i immediately started a replay of the the original game with an ‘aeris-lens’ ( analyzing her character, her relationships, making sure i got her date, etc. ). it made me look at her relationship with cloud in a different light since i had never really paid attention to it as heavily before since i avoided the ship tbh. i ended up enjoying their dynamic a lot. they have a natural chemistry with each other but there’s also this unspoken distance between them which is fully intentional - she has her own walls up and he has his. 

    they have a very ‘tragic love’ since well...she dies before anything can fully go to the next level. their relationship in canon is a very ‘what if’ and as a result, i often see people who don’t like the ship claim that they wouldn’t work because aeris wouldn’t be able to ‘deal’ with cloud and would’ve left. to be blunt, this a bad take considering supporting one another is prevalent throughout their relationship: 

aeris: i learned a lot. the elders taught me many things. about the cetra... and the promised land... i'm...... alone... i'm all alone now... cloud: but i'm...... we're here for you, right? aeris: i know. i know, but... i am the only...... cetra. cloud: does that mean we can't help?

cloud: ...i gave the black materia to sephiroth...? wha... what did I do... tell me, aeris. aeris: cloud... be strong, ok? He writhes and clutches his head. cloud urrrrrrgh... what have I done!? aeris: cloud... you haven't done anything. it's not your fault.

cloud: yeah, I hear you. sorry for what happened. aeris: don't worry about it. cloud: ...i can't help it... aeris: oh... then, why don't you REALLY worry about it? and let me handle sephiroth. and cloud, you take care of yourself. so you don't have a breakdown, okay?

    the remake only reinforces everything i like about their relationship: their banter is great, aeris gently takes his hand during one of his ‘moments’ and supports him, she confides in him about talking to her flowers, and he never treats her differently ( which is a big deal when just two nights before, he told someone to ‘get help’ when they claimed they could hear the planet lol ). they have so much in common as well: they both have struggled with loneliness, being an outcast, and not having a lot of friends. i’ll always find it incredibly interesting how cloud is repeatedly not invited to be apart of group functions in the remake ( he wasn’t allowed to celebrate with avalanche and had to sit outside jessie’s house as the others ate pizza ) until he met aeris and she invited him to have dinner with her and her mom. despite the ‘bodyguard’ dynamic to their relationship, they always feel like equals to me.

aeris: today’s special!!! cloud: why? aeris: because i met you, you dumb binch!!!

aeris: *says cryptic stuff and tells him that they can’t fall in love* ( i’m saying they because apparently in japanese / other languages she says ‘we can’t fall in love’, not just ‘you can’t fall in love with me’. ) cloud: uh....how about i do anyway??? also i’m saving you so...see you tomorrow at 11. bye.

me: their relationship never gets to a serious level because the opportunity was taken away from them de to unfortunate circumstances. 

also me: they’re just just...dumb and in love!!!! i’m sorry, that’s just the way it is!!!! she literally tells him that meeting him again was special to her and the silly boi doesn’t get it!!!! one of the composers of the game even said a tracks that plays with them is meant to have a romantic vibe!! when she pulls away from him, he reaches out for her because he doesn’t want her to let go!! the lyrics of hollow is literally ‘this time i’ll never LET YOU GO’ AAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!

    anyway, i’ve also noticed this weird trend in the fandom where it feels like cloud is never allowed to just has his own dedicated feelings about aeris - and i’m not even talking about romantic feelings. i feel like whenever there is talk about cloud’s relationship with za.ck or ti.fa, no one inserts aeris into it. they’re allowed to have their individual relationships with him yet with aeris it feels like you cannot talk about how much she meant to him and vice versa without other characters being thrown in. i don’t know if it’s because of shipping and people don’t want to acknowledge that like...characters can have feelings for multiple people or what but the reality is that cloud did feel something for her. she did mean a lot to him; so much so that he slept in her church two years after she was dead and went to her burial place alone. he missed her.  maybe it was just as a friend, maybe it was because of something more but i really dislike how their relationship and importance to each other, regardless of whether it’s platonic or romantic, is constantly invalidated.

aeris & gene.

     when kas / @castershot first created channels for gene and aeris in our rp server last year, i honestly did not think these two would have a serious relationship at all. i figured maybe they would have a fling or something at best / aeris would be the equivalent of a filler character in a few episodes of the show and then they would go their separate ways. ...that didn’t happen but i’m glad it didn’t! i didn’t know a gosh diddly darn thing about outlaw star but i’m very good at researching and aggressively reading wikis so i was able to whip up a verse ( and someone who watched the show thought i had actually watched it after reading my verse so i guess i did a darn good job! ). anyway, i feel like when writing aeris it’s very easy to...hmm...fall into very certain dynamics and considering gene’s line of work ( doing odd jobs, being a bodyguard for hire, a general jack of all trades ), i didn’t want it to be the ‘he’s a bodyguard, she gets protected, blah blah blah’ dynamic but in space. so their relationship ( at least in my head - there’s a lot going on in there tbh!!! ) basically became somewhat of a deconstruction of cl.erith + ( bad ) stereotypes about aeris in general:

      what if the helpless flower girl that needs saving from the big bad corporation is actually a liar who works for said corporation and was sent by them to retrieve something important(tm) and eliminate anyone that gets in her way? what if aeris, a secret member of the turks, has become so desensitized when interacting with other people since she is constantly wearing a mask and she can’t tell if she’s genuinely falling for someone or if her acting is just so good that even she can’t tell what’s real or fake anymore? what if i took all those bad takes about aeris knowing she would die, flip it, and actually make it so that she does know and still goes alone anyway because she wants to save lives for once instead of being the person who takes them away!!

me: imagine the drama!!! the angst!!! kas, casually: [redacted name b/c of spoilers] would just bring her back to life. me: WHAT?! >:(

apparently one character in the show is casually just GOD and can revive people so they can come back like:

    my bubble was BURST. dreams DASHED. plans CRUSHED. dramatics aside, i still kept the idea of her dying because i do like the take of a more secretly jaded / not as ‘pure’ aeris that works for shinra and has to basically relearn how to trust / care about others again + i live to attack kas and all of her muses. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.  anyway, the point is that i love them and they’re a dynamic i’m very invested in the more times passes. they’re both so stupid and passionate and loud ( the first in character thing i wrote when i remade this blog was them screaming at each other in an argument ) but they’re also sensitive, don’t open up to others easily, and have trauma!! oof x 100.

me: this ship won’t be serious lol the ship, months later: may or may not have a thread with them going on a date. may or may not have gone to ti.fa and cloud’s wedding together ( where kissafist’s tif.a may or may not threaten to smash his balls in if he doesn’t treat aeris right. *smash em, rip em plays in the distance as aeris aggressively laughs nervously* ), they may or may not get married and have twins that may or may not be named ren and rose. me: clown putting on make up.png

so yea, they’ve come a long way(tm).

the end.

[fangirlinsweden]

Promises 2

Pairing: Steve x reader                                                                        

Warnings: Angst, swearing, slapping.                              

Word Count:  around 2,500                                                                                  

Square Filled: Crying themselves to sleep for @star-spangled-bingo            

Summary: Y/N always keeps her promises. Always. This time that hurts her.  

A/N: This is my second fanfic for the @star-spangled-bingo. It will at least be 7 parts. And I would like to thank @kaunis-sielu & @allaboutthebooz & @itsanerdlife for their help and support. These women are amazing writers, that you need to check out if you haven’t already.

Part 1     Promises Masterlist

Steve and Bucky stepped out of the elevator and started down the hall towards Y/N door, but were met by Nat and Wanda.

“You got a lot of nerve coming here” Nat growled at Steve, but he pushed past her. He needed to talk to Y/N. He heard her crying when he was about to knock. He took a step back looking at the door. What had he done? Wanda came and dragged him away from Y/N door and into the kitchen. Her grip was tight on his arm.

“You leave Y/N alone,” Wanda said to Steve. “Or we will hurt you,” she said nodding at Nat. Steve swallowed and looked at Bucky for help.

“Oh no,” Nat said stalking over to Steve. “Bucky can’t help you out of this mess.”

“Nat knows how to make people disappear, remember that” Wanda eyed both Bucky and Steve both had their eyes down on the floor.

“Nat, Wanda” Steve tries to reason with them.

“You hurt our best friend” Wanda is not giving Steve a chance to say a word. “Maybe I should let Nat kill you. Make it look like a car accident” Nat looks at the Steve with a smug look on her face. Steve and Bucky look at each other.  

“What is happening here” Tony’s askes cheeky when he, Pepper, Rodney, Clint and Sam walk into the kitchen.

“Oh...” Nat looks between Steve and Bucky. “Why don’t you ask these two idiots”. Sam who already knows what had happened walked over to Wanda and puts an arm around her shoulders.

“What did you do” Rhodey demanded as he walks closer to Steve and Bucky.

“I gave Steve some advice” Bucky tries to explain, pursing his lips. “It turns out it was really bad advice.” Tony looks around the room. “Can someone please explain?” Nat looks like she wants to kill Steve, and still, he didn’t say a word, his lips pressed tight together. So Sam explains everything. Pepper walks over to Steve and Bucky and slaps them both across the face, and then she drags Nat and Wanda away from there. Steve looked around the room, the sting of the slap fresh in mind. Everyone else was looking at him angry, except Bucky who keeps his gaze on the floor, and Steve just couldn’t deal with it. Nobody was angrier at him than he was on himself. He didn’t say a word just hurried out in the corridor and towards his bedroom. He had really fucked everything up. He knew that he needed to make this better. He opened the door to his bedroom and walked in. The only thing he could think of was to talk to Y/N and hope that she could forgive him.

“Girls, we need to do something about this” Pepper says when they were in Wanda’s room. Wanda and Nat nod.

“We can’t leave Y/N alone with Steve for a while” Nat says. “She will kill him if she finds out why he did this.”

“Even if he deserves it” Wanda sigh. “It would just be wrong.”

“Another way that all of this could end is that Y/N leaves the team” Pepper muses. Both women look at her with big eyes.

“What?” Nat breaths out.

“As you know, Y/N was trained at the Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters” Pepper says and looks at both women in front of her. Wanda and Nat are nodding, they knew that. “What you might not know is that they want her back. To be a part of the X-men.”

“It does not surprise me. Y/N is a powerful inhuman.” Wanda mumbles.

“She gets offers almost every week” Pepper continues. “She has talked to Tony about it and I think that if it gets too complicated for her here. Well, then she will take the offer.”

“That is not going to happen” Nat says with an edge to her voice. “We will get her through this. If I need to I will take care of Steve.”

“I have plans to take Y/N out to breakfast in the morning” Pepper says. “We were going to talk about Steve and how it had gone with her telling him how she feels.”

“I bet she has a lot to say about him when she finds out why he did what he did” Wanda says looking down at her hands. The three of them make a game plan how to help Y/N through this without dropping any body’s or losing Y/N to another team.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Steve stood outside your door. Ha held a tray with breakfast and flowers and was just about to knock when you opened the door. You were surprised to see him outside your door, but you tried to not even look at him. You closed your door and walked passed him. Keeping your eyes right ahead, head held high. Trying to keep your breathing even. Don’t let him get to you, you told yourself in your head. You are stronger than that.

“Y/N” he said walking after you, but you did not give him any attention. You walked into the kitchen and up to Pepper. Still trying to keep yourself calm.

“Ready for breakfast,” you asked with a happy voice and she nodded. Pepper sent Steve an angry stare.

“Y/N” Steve tried again, but you continued walking to the elevator with Pepper. Still not looking at him or acknowledging him.

“How are you doing?” Pepper asked you when the elevator door closed.

“I go between wanting to burn everything around me or curling in a corner crying” you answered honestly. Pepper nodded and took your hand. You knew you could be honest with your friends. They had your back.

“I was prepared for him to turn me down. That we were just friends” you continue. “But not even acknowledging me when he was the one that asked me to save the first dance. I guess he found someone better.”

“You are so much better than the woman who was his company through the evening. I really don’t understand his reasoning behind all this.” Pepper said as the elevator opened. Bucky stood on the other side. Pepper sent him a death glare, but you didn’t even look at him.

“Y/N” Bucky tried, but you walked past him. You were not interested in listening to Steve’s best friend. He would only try and defend his friend and that was not something that you were interested in listening to. You needed to get away from all of this. When you were outside you turned to Pepper.

“Can you keep me occupied today?” you feel the tears in your eyes. “I just.. I need to forget what happened last night.” Pepper promised you a day of fun and later in the evening a girls night with Wanda and Nat. You smiled. That was exactly what you needed.

Steve stood outside the elevator with slumped shoulders. He walked into the kitchen where Tony, Clint and Sam looked at him. They did not say a word, but their eyes said so much. Steve knew he had fucked up, but he needed you to talk to him.  

“Guys, I need help” he said looking at them.

“You are my friend, Steve” Sam growls. “But you treated her like shit. I will not help you hurt her more. Leave her the fuck alone.” With those words, Sam left the kitchen.

“You know, she waited for you” Tony says looking at Steve, shaking his head.

“For fucks sake, she turned down, Chris Evans, when he asked for a dance. You know the movie star she loves. Just because she was waiting for you. That says a lot.” Clint says and he and Tony left Steve standing in the kitchen alone, looking down on the breakfast he had made you. Steve crumbled. What should he do? He was in love with Y/N. But if she would not even look at him. He would not have a chance. Maybe breakfast was not the right move. Bucky stepped out of the elevator.

“I take it that you had just as much luck as I did” Bucky gestured to the breakfast in front of Steve.

“I have no idea what I should do to fix this” Steve said and looked at Bucky.

“Me either” Bucky said. “We know my ways are the wrong way.” Steve had this pain in his chest and he knew he needed to talk to you. Get you to understand.

“Maybe we are lucky she didn’t burn us” Bucky tries to joke.

“She is not the kind of woman to do that” Steve mumbles.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A couple of days later you were walking towards your room after a long day away on a mission with Nat and then debriefing with Furry. All you wanted was to take a shower to get the smoke smell out of your hair and then to fall asleep in your bed. You walked pass Steve and kept going.

“Y/N” Steve shouted behind you. You took a couple of breaths before you turned around. You knew you couldn’t ignore him any longer. Your girls had helped you through the worst, but when you turned around and were met by a big smile on Steve’s face you almost felt yourself waver. You took a deep breath and kept your face professional, cold and distant.  

“What do you want, Captain?” You wondered not returning the smile. Steve’s smile faltering a bit when you said Captain. You always used his name, never his title.

“I want to explain” Steve said when he stopped right in front of you. You lifted one brow. “I was trying to make you jealous. I wanted to see how you felt about me. I am so sorry. I should just have come over to you at the party. I am sorry.” Steve looked at you with a small smile. You hated that his smile still made butterflies fly in your stomach. You sighed. The butterflies need to be killed.

“Captain, do you know how many men asked me to dance at the party?” You are trying to keep the fire out of your eyes. Trying to keep yourself cold. Trying to remember what Nat had told you about keeping your emotions in check.

“I would guess many” Steve almost whispers. “You looked stunning.”

“Yes, Captain, I did. I was a fucking knockout.” You sass at him. You count to ten silently in your head. “And I still turned them all down. All 26 of them. Do you know why?” Steve shakes his head, looking at you with his big, blue eyes.

“I always keep my promises,” you say trying to keep from crying. It still hurt. More than you wanted to admit. “I had promised you the first dance, but you were too busy trying to make me jealous to actually notice me.”

“I noticed you…” Steve tries. You hell up your right hand and he stopped talking.

“I don’t play games” you said still looking into his beautiful blue eyes and you see him wince. “I want you to leave me alone. I will be civil on missions. You are still my boss, but unless you want to talk to me about work, I want you to leave me alone.” You turn around, feeling the fire wanting to slip out of your fingers. You press your powers down, not wanting to set something on fire.

“Y/N” Steve takes a hold of your arm and you turn around.

“You broke my heart. You made me feel small.” You say and feel the tears pooling in your eyes. Steve drops you like he’d been shot, or maybe he had been burnt. You honestly did not care if you had burnt him. His eyes are searching your face for something. “I was going to tell you how I felt about you at the party, but you were too busy playing games to even notice me. I am an adult. I don’t play games with people. Feelings are not something to be played with. So now I want you to leave me the fuck alone.” You growl the last part before you turn around and walk away leaving him standing there. You walked to your room and crawled into your bed crying. You still smell like smoke from your mission, but you did not have the energy to shower. You lift your right hand in front of you and a flame is dancing in your palm. Tears running down your face and all you wanted to do was burn these feelings away. How did your days always end up with you crying in your bed? You let the flame die before you pull the covers over your body completely. After a while you fell asleep, tears still running down your face.

Steve stood in the hallway feeling cold, alone and scared. Had he missed his chance? What the hell had he done? He had not just lost the woman he was madly in love with, he had also lost her friendship. This was a situation he never thought he would be in. But now that he thought about it he had never really taken your feelings or the reactions Y/N could have had on him trying to make her jealous. No, all he had thought about was how much easier it would be for him if Y/N came to him instead of him confessing his feelings for her. He had only been thinking about himself, not about her and her feelings. She deserved to be treated well. She deserved to be wowed. To be courted with all kind of romantic gestures. He had seen the fire in her eyes and knew that she had to repress her powers. He could easily be burnt to a crisp by her, but she had kept it in. She had fought it off and he knew from all his late-night talks with her that strong emotions made it hard sometimes to keep her powers in control. That was one of the reasons that she practises yoga and meditation. To keep herself in balanced and centred. She had once told him that it was on Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters that she had gotten the best help to keep her powers in control. She had had some control before because her father had helped her through it and to find a way to calm her down. Steve hated the fact that he was the reason behind her heart-break. He wanted to take her in his arms and make it better. Had it all got better if he had been on his knees begging her for a chance? He had no idea. Steve walked over to his bedroom. He felt more down than he ever been. It all felt hopeless, but deep down he knew that he could not give up on you. Maybe Sam had been right. He needed to give Y/N time. To start with he would do as she had asked and leave her alone. It was the least he could do, for now.  

Part 3

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Promises tag list:  

@njayfbi     @ncrediblelove      @keithseabrook27     @donner5822

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