#i was searching for something specific and then i saw that and immediately was seized by the need to make this

[bloodborne-on-pc]

[mystra-midnight]

Haunted Hoedown - DAY FOUR

summary: it felt like a thunderstorm was roaring in your head. Yyu heard him, but his words didn't register in your brain the way they should have. there was only building, mounting, and ruining pleasure that was spreading through your organs and seizing your limbs.

warnings: 18+ only. ghost!eddie x reader. mentions of an unsatisfying sex life/readers ex being a douche. masturbation. voyeurism. somnophilia. eddie being a tad mean/dom.

words: 5.7k

notes: day four of the haunted hoedown challenge being hosted by @inklore and @psychedelic-ink. a bit delayed because i was away seeing amy lee live and in person and fangirling. i tried a different style here with that i'm not 100% sure i love but i hope you enjoy reading.

prompt: american horror story Inspired + “i would burn the world for you.”

May 7th. 2001.

"Tell me why this place is so cheap."

You looked wide-eyed around the apartment. It was utterly perfect—exactly what you'd been hoping for when moving to Hawkins, Indiana. The walls were painted off-white, there were brand-new stainless steel appliances, and there were timber floors throughout. The ceilings were high, and there was a little reading nook, two large bedrooms, and a large clawed bathtub.

But the best part was that it was advertised at more than half the true market value. It was absolutely ridiculous, crazy, and completely illogical, and you couldn't understand why.

You saw the realtor flinch at the question, which immediately brought you down from the clouds. Shit. Of course, it was too good to be true. There had to be something wrong with the property for the owner to sell it for practically next to nothing.

With a sigh, you faced him. His expression was grim.

"Well, you see, um, there was, uh," he stammered, tripping over his words as he searched for the right ones, the ones that wouldn't scare you away. "About fifteen years ago, before the urban development and technology boom came to Hawkins, a young man died in the trailer park that used to be on this lot."

Your heart dropped as the horror of his words sank in, but the feeling was fleeting. Someone who was a stranger to you died ten years ago. They hadn't even lived in the apartment, so that didn't explain the next-to-nothing price. You said as much to the realtor, pressing him for more information.

"The owners want to sell the property quickly, rather than for money. They've explained that there were some... how do I put this? Some strange events occurred while they were living here."

"Such as?"

"Things would move when no one was around. There were always problems with the central heating. The televisions and radios would change channels in the middle of programmes or turn on in the middle of the night. I assume most of this is because of defective wiring somewhere in the building, but none of the electricians were able to find the cause."

You watched him cringe, as though saying the words aloud was physically painful to him. It all sounded ridiculous. And none of it was enough to make you turn down such a fantastic property for such a stupidly low price.

"That's all?" You teased, flashing the man a smile. "Consider the place sold.

June 11th. 2001.

Despite the realtor double-checking and then triple-checking, you crossed your T's and dotted your I's and bought the apartment that same day. You moved in the following month, piling boxes upon boxes, each one with a specific room written on it in your scribble: kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, guest room, reading. You bought new furniture and decorated the walls with pictures of your family and the knick-knacks you'd accumulated after college.

It had taken weeks to sort out all the rooms and empty all the boxes, but the apartment finally felt like a real home, and you'd completely forgotten what the realtor had said when showing you the property: strange events.

It started after three blissful and uneventful weeks. Things had started to go missing, just like he said. It wasn't anything overly important, just small things like your rings, your glasses, or sometimes even your panties. Things would go missing for days at a time before reappearing in locations that they had no business being in.

And then the cold started. Not just cold, but freezing cold.

It got so bad that some nights you would see your own breath misting in the air. It never seemed to matter how high you set the thermostat or how many blankets you piled on top of you—you couldn't stop shivering.

But while all these things were certainly strange, they weren't illogical. You could explain each of them: you misplaced things because you'd moved towns—hell, you'd moved states—and were getting used to living somewhere new. It was also cold because the central heating was faulty. The lights would flicker because the wiring was done wrong. All of that made perfect sense.

But what didn't make a lick of logical sense was when things started to move while you were staring right at them. Hallway doors would swing wide open, slamming into the walls as though they'd been ripped open violently in fits of rage. Shadows would creep along the walls when you weren't looking. You'd catch a glimpse from the corner of your eyes of these stalking shapes, only for them to be gone when you turned to look at them.

Then the photos started to fall from their hooks on the wall, sometimes thrown across the room, so that the frames broke and glass shards littered the floors. You make yourself a meal only for the plate to be thrown off the table and against the wall, leaving the paint stained with splotches. It frightened you, leaving you turning off the lights, running to bed, and hiding under the covers like you were suddenly twelve years old again.

The worst of it was when the dissonant whispering started. It would wake you in the middle of the night, leaving you clutching a baseball bat for dear life. Your co-workers all agreed that you were stressed and overworked, probably exhausted from uprooting your entire life and moving across the country. None of them believed in ghosts, horror stories, or haunted houses.

You thought you might be going insane until you saw him.

July 4th. 2001.

Eddie Munson.

"Hey!" You called, startling the boy standing in front of your dresser. The top right drawer was opened, and your panties were on full display. Hidden beneath them was your vibrator, and you found yourself flustered, angry, embarrassed, and scared.

He looked at you with wide doe-eyes, swimming pools of brown that you could easily get lost in if he wasn't holding a pair of your panties to his nose like some god-damn pervert. You held a bat in your hand, ready to swing, when he turned and ran. You give chase, following him around the queen bed with fresh sheets and into the bathroom that joined the two bedrooms.

By the time you rounded the bed and made it through the doorway, he was gone, seemingly having vanished into thin air. Your panties were on the ground. You spent hours checking rooms, closets, and any nook and cranny a boy of his size could hide in. You even called the police and filed a report, but there was no evidence of forced entry.

In the days that followed, you took to sleeping with the bat besides the bed and a kitchen knife beneath your pillows. It was childish, but having them so close made you feel safer.

The next few weeks were surprisingly and uneventful, and soon you settled back into a familiar routine. Work five days a week, from eight in the morning until five in the afternoon, come home and eat, channel surf for a few hours, shower, and sleep. You were even able to have friends over without anything weird ruining the atmosphere.

It was as you were chancel surfing that you saw him again. You were looking through the music stations for something to listen to while you showered; you skimmed through the pop stations and skipped over the metal stations before setting on one that was playing When It's Over by Sugar Ray. The song was catchy and tended to get stuck in your head with how much it played on the radio, but it was a good one.

"Wait! Go back!"

You screamed.

With your heart pounding wildly in your chest and your stomach having fallen out of your arse, you stared at him. He seemed entirely unaware of your fright, instead gesturing frantically at the television. "Turn it back!"

This was the first time you'd gotten an up-close look at him. He was dressed in black jeans with rips in the knees and a shirt that said Hellfire Club. As he motioned between the remote in your hand and the television, it rode up, revealing a trail of hair that started at his navel and disappeared into his jeans. He had a leather jacket on and a denim Dio vest over it.

He looked like something straight out of the 80's.

"Back!" He yelled louder this time. He sounded panicked and frantic, and that was what snapped you from your stupor. You flicked backwards through the channels, finding the metal music one, when he ordered you to stop. He stared wide-eyed at the television, where Metallica was playing a live concert. You recognised the song; it was Fuel.

"That's James Hetfield," he said, his tone disbelieving. He flopped open-mouthed onto the couch as Kirk Hammett and Lars Ulrich began the opening rift. "This is Metallica."

"Yeah?"

"I don't know this song."

"It was released about four years ago; how can you not have heard it?"

You pressed yourself tightly into the arm of the couch, feeling it dig painfully into your back, when he whirled around to face you. His face was overcome with surprise, shock, and something else you'd yet to comprehend. Wild curls bounced around his face before settling into place.

"Four years?"

You shivered beneath the intensity of his stare and his emotions; even his presence in your apartment sent a chill down your spine. You nodded quickly, clutching the television to your chest like it was a weapon. Your grip was so tight that your knuckles ached.

"That's not possible," he whispered, turning back to the television as the lyrics started. "They look different. They sound different. This is crazy. They just released Master of Puppets?"

That caught your attention, and it was then your turn to be surprised.

"That was fifteen years ago."

"What?" He rounded on you a second time.

Over the next few weeks, you learned more about him. He’d lived in the trailer park with his uncle Wayne, and he’d passed in a tragic accident, an earthquake; his uncle had never found his body. You suspected there was more to it, but he was unwilling to give more details.

That accident had happened fifteen years ago, and the trailer park had been demolished about seven years later. A development block had been built to replace it, which eventually turned into an apartment complex as Hawkins expanded.

Eddie had only been twenty-one when he died. You learned that he liked music. Well, no, you learned that he loved Metallica and Dio. So you started to leave the television on when you went to work, letting it play from dusk to dawn to keep him entertained. Then you started buying magazines and comics to leave them open for him to read; you even bought home Metallica's latest CD.

And as the weeks dragged on, his presence in your apartment became less terrifying, except for the times he would seemingly materialise from nowhere. You even started asking him to hang out with you at night. The two of you would spend hours watching movies and music videos and just talking.

September 19th. 2001.

"Come on, Eddie!" You whined. He was behaving like a child, and you were exasperated and fed up with his antics. He was standing in front of the door with his arms crossed over his chest, obscuring the words on the front of his shirt.

"Don't you 'Eddie' me," he cautioned, his brown eyes narrowing into a glare. He hated the idea that you were mocking him, though he was smart enough to realise that wasn't what you were doing right now. "He's an asshole. I don't understand why you can't see it."

"Because I know him! You've only ever seen him! Briefly, I might add!"

Eddie threw his hands up in frustration; the sound that left his mouth was all but a growl. He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake you until your brains leaked out of your ears. Then you might be smart enough to realise that Michael was a fucking douchebag. "And I see you too!" Eddie spat, the fieriness in his tone making you roll your eyes and shiver simultaneously.

"Every time you've seen him, you come home frustrated, like the man doesn't know how to fuck or something! You always come back bitchier than when you left!"

"Eddie!"

If you could have hit him, you would have. His words hit too close to home for comfort. Michael was nice enough, if not vain and at times arrogant. He came from money, and he often acted and thought that money would carry him through the world. But he treated you well enough, and you enjoyed his company most of the time.

Except Eddie's intuition hit the nail on the head—Michael didn't know how to fuck. At least, not well. Each time you felt the familiar warmth of orgasm approaching, the same thing happened. It didn't matter that you'd be crying out his name and clawing at his back, begging him not to stop; he'd move, change his angle, change his pace, change his position, and you would be left a frustrated mess.

On the rare occasions he cared, he was able to make you cum. He'd work you over until you tumbled into oblivion, his fingers buried in your pussy as it clenched and spasmed around them, your back arched off the mattress. But he cared for his own pleasure above all others, and nine times out of ten, you didn't finish.

"Eddie!" He mocked. "Is my name the only thing you can say, sweetheart?"

"I'm not taking dating advice from a dead man!"

You regretted the words the moment they left your mouth. Tears burned in the back of your throat from how you swallowed the urge to cry, your emotions reaching a fever pitch as you walked through him. And as you passed, the cold of his presence enveloped you in a frigid hug but didn't stop you.

Instead, you left.

You drank too much that night; said too much, and let Michael work you over for far longer than you normally would. After being compliant and patient all night, he draped your legs over his shoulders, grunting and groaning as he fucked you, only to cum on your stomach before kissing you goodnight and slipping away. That had been the boiling point.

The relationship ended with you slapping Michael so hard that your hand hurt.

When you made it back home, the apartment was dark, cold, and empty. The television had turned off automatically at some point in the evening, and none of the lights were on. You’d expected him to be waiting for you with a smug smirk and an I told you so attitude, but Eddie wasn’t there, and that hurt more than the disappointing sex.

September 26th. 2001.

Six days later, you still hadn't seen him. Each night you tossed and turned, his absence from your life a gaping wound that often left you bleeding out and gasping for air. The apartment felt too large without him—too quiet and too empty. But you resigned yourself to the fact that you'd chased him away. He'd have found someone else to haunt, someone who appreciated him instead of insulting him. So you found something else to occupy your mind.

Except while you were settling into the mountain of pillows on your bed, the scent of clean linen and vanilla swirling around the room, he decided to make his grand reappearance. Well, no, not exactly.

The moment he chose to reappear was when you were sprawled on the bed, thighs spread wide, and heels dug into the mattress as you worked the tips of your fingers over your aching clit and into your leaking hole. You hadn't had sex since breaking up with Michael, but the ache had been in your belly long before that. The knot between your hips was pulled taut when you saw Eddie standing at the foot of the bed, panic bursting to life inside your chest. You snapped your thighs tight together, your hand flying to press into the sheets to hide the sticky evidence of your arousal.

"Don't stop," he said softly, his voice breathy and light. His wide-doe eyes meet yours. "Please."

"Eddie," you whispered as your face warmed with embarrassment. He didn't miss the way you rubbed your thighs together, desperate to stifle the ache between them. In that moment, you wanted him to be the one touching you. You wanted to feel the warmth and weight of his palms as he held you down and his breath on your neck as he kissed, bit, and sucked. You wanted him in the worst way, and it hurt you beyond words that you couldn't have him.

"Open them." His tone was harsh this time—forceful and demanding, enticing a soft whine from your parted lips. The smirk that found its way to his plump lips was sinful. "No wonder he couldn't get you off. Was he too soft, sweetheart? You need to be told what you want to do, fucked like a whore, to be able to cum?"

Eddie wanted to grab your ankles and drag you to him. Your little nub was so sensitive that he wanted to spread you open and rub the tip of his tongue against it until you were begging for him. He wanted to watch you cum on his cock, his fingers, his thigh, his tongue, and his cock again. He wanted to feel you with every fibre of his ghostly being. "Be a good girl and open your legs, yeah?"

You were slow to react. You parted your thighs slowly and shyly until you were exposed to his hungry gaze. The insides of your thighs were sticky and shiny with the evidence of your first orgasm; your puffy folds were still slick as you parted them with your fingers, moving to rub one on either side of your clit. Your breath hitched at the sensation and the way his eyes followed your movements.

"Eddie," you whined his name softly while your head tipped back, your throat exposed, and your chest heaving with each sharp intake of air. The crown of your head mashed against the pillows, leaving your hair a mess. You imagined the way his hands would feel—rough and calloused. He'd played guitar before his death; you knew he'd be good with his fingers. He'd be able to find that spot deep inside your gummy walls that made stars, no, galaxies, burst to life inside your veins.

"What a fucking prick." He spat the words through his teeth, each syllable filled with venom. "Didn't know how good of a thing he had until it was gone. Never even deserved to have such a pretty pussy if he couldn't get you off. I bet he couldn't even do it with his fingers buried in there or with his tongue, either. Bet he just rammed his dick in without getting you worked up first."

"He doesn’t.." You sighed, your breath airy and full of arousal. "He... he never tasted me."

If it were possible, Eddie would have cum in his pants like a fucking virgin. Not only had that asshole left you a worked-up and unsatisfied mess because he didn't know how to fuck you right, he'd never even tasted you, which was a crying shame. Right now, all Eddie wanted to do was have your sweet cunt beneath his mouth. You were a feast on display, and he was forbidden from tasting, touching, and fucking.

Eddie watched as you pushed your fingers into your clenching hole, chasing the orgasm that was starting to sear through your veins. You were so wet, your slick dripping down the crack of your ass, only to be lost in the bed sheets. "Forget about him," he followed up with a gentler tone, the cold of his presence enveloping the air around you until your nipples turned to hardened peaks that crowned your tits. "Forget about him. Just touch that hot cunt for me, sweetheart."

You answered him with a whimper, your lower lip quivering before being captured between your teeth as your fingers moved deeper, seeking and searching for that sweet stop. You heard his sharp intake of breath as you fingered yourself; the schlick sounds echoing around the room were obscene and pornographic. Your slick arousal coated your fingers, your hand, your palm, and your thighs, shining beneath the dull glow of moonlight that peaked through the windows.

"Harder," he barked, and you obeyed. The heel of your palm slapped against your clit with each thrust of your fingers. "Faster."

It felt like a thunderstorm was roaring in your head. You heard him, but his words didn't register in your brain as they should have. There was only building, mounting, and ruining pleasure that was spreading through your organs and seizing your limbs. You come hard and long, crying a pretty symphony made up entirely of his name.

October 31st. 2001.

It worked for a while.

In spite of the entire situation making your face burn, you couldn't say no to him, not when he looked at you with those pretty doe-eyes or when he called you his good little whore. Thus, Eddie watched as you masturbated for him every night. He would tell you when to cum and how to touch yourself. You'd be told how many fingers to use and watched as you fucked yourself open.

It worked—until it didn’t.

After days and weeks, it wasn't enough to just touch yourself. You wanted him to touch you, but that was entirely impossible. So you threw yourself into your work and your social life to distract your melancholy heart. But each night, in the privacy of your apartment, you belonged entirely to him. You worked a double shift today in preparation for Halloween. Eddie hadn't said anything when you'd come home exhausted. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep like the dead.

And that was exactly what you'd done.

You didn't remember falling asleep, but you knew you weren't awake yet—you were floating on clouds in that blissful in-between. It was 3:15 a.m. in the morning, and you vaguely recognised the blurry red outline of the digital clock on the bedside table. The witching hour on All Hallows' Eve.

It was only the sudden, sharp zing of pleasure that woke you.

You cried out. Your voice was hoarse, and your vocal cords were thick with a myriad of emotions: sleep, confusion, panic, and sudden desperation. Reality finally dawned upon you as honey-sweet pleasure swept through your limbs, making them feel heavy and sluggish even as you grabbed a handful of the thick mop curls between your spread thighs.

You bucked your hips without intention, pushing his face deeper between your sticky folds until he grabbed your waist and pinned you to the mattress. When he pulled back and wrapped his wet lips around your throbbing clit, you could feel him smiling. A deep hum rumbled through his vocal cords and vibrated through your core until you were moaning out loud, your back in a perfect arch as red-hot lightning sizzled through your veins.

"E-Eddie?"

The panic in your voice finally encouraged him to lift his head. His doe-eyes were blown wide with lust, almost entirely black. You saw the way his chin dripped with a mixture of his saliva and your slick; he was a vision of ecstasy that made your brain short-circuit. This wasn't possible—it literally wasn't possible. But it was real. You felt the weight of his hands on your waist, the way his fingertips dug into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, and the way his weight dipped into the mattress.

"Was wondering when you'd wake up, sweets," he mumbled, his breath hot against your mound. Your thighs trembled and squeezed around his head when he dipped his head to lick from your quivering hole to your clit, lapping at the slick that practically leaked from you. There was a part of you screaming, wanting to rage and be angry at him for doing something like this while you were sleeping. There was also a part of you that wanted to be as distraught now as you had been the day you found him sniffing your panties.

Both parts were quiet, making room for the horny, touch-starved part of yourself to come to the surface. Your nails scratched his scalp when you tugged hard on his hair. Eddie tightened his hold on your waist to stop your impatient squirming as he kitten-licked your folds. You were already embarrassingly close, and he knew. It was obvious from the way you were squeezing your thighs around his head until his hearing muffled and how you squirmed and wriggled as the pressure in your belly built.

You made this sound—a little gasp of pleasure—that sent arousal rocketing through his veins and straight to his cock when he pushed two fingers into your tight pussy. His fingers were thicker than yours, larger and longer, reaching deep and rubbing against all of your nerves. You came without warning, slick walls clamping rightly around his thrusting fingers as the world shattered around you into sweet oblivion. Eddie kept his lips wrapped around your little nub, sucking and flicking his tongue against it as crystal shards of pleasure shot through her entire being. It felt like a bolt of white-hot lightning had struck your soul and set her world ablaze.

When you sagged against the mattress, Eddie climbed the length of your body, his lips leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses from your clit and up your belly, through the valley of your tits, until you were tasting yourself on his tongue. You touched him for the first time with shaking hands, feeling his skin against your palms, tracing the outline of each tattoo, and feeling how his muscles shifted and tensed beneath his skin as he settled between your thighs.

He was real; he was here, and he was yours.

As Eddie rubbed his cock against your sticky folds to get himself slick and lubricated, he groaned into your mouth. The flushed tip nudged your clit, causing you to gasp and arch beneath him. "Eddie," you moaned softly, your entire body burning and your eyes pleading for more.

"Say it." He growled. His breath was hot on your neck as he smeared open-mouth kisses along the column of your throat. He already knew what you wanted, but he wanted you to say it. He had to hear you say it. When you bucked up against him, desperate to feel him fill you or for friction of any kind, he pinned your hips down, refusing to give into your demands.

"Eddie," you whined. "Eddie, please, please, fuck me—ah!"

The stretch as he pushed inside was intense and immediate, more so than anything you'd ever felt. But it wasn't painful. No, it was deliciously mind-numbing. Your nails dug deep into his shoulders as you threw your head back. Your lips parted in breathless cries when he bottomed out, filling you so completely. The two of you have never talked about this moment, his size, or what to expect when having sex. Mostly because neither of you had expected this to ever happen.

Now that he was between your legs, holding them open with heavy palms, you knew that he was big—bigger than Michael and your other ex's. Eddie watched the way your lips clung to him as he pulled back, leaving only the crown of his cock nestled in your tight walls, and he moaned as you sucked in each inch of him when he snapped his hips forward. It felt like he was carving his way into your guts, rearranging your organs, or hitting the back of your throat. Maybe that was over dramatic; you were cock-drunk and delusional already. Maybe it was just the intensity with which you wanted him to act that made you irrational.

All that you knew for certain was that he was here, and he was fucking you, and you never wanted him to stop. You were crying, the tears having finally fallen, and you couldn’t stop shaking as lava pooled in your stomach. Eddie grabbed you by the chin, his thumb and forefinger pressing into your cheeks, so that you were pouting when he kissed her again. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

Your eyes snapped open. When did you close them? You didn't know.

"This is what you needed, huh? You just needed a cock inside you—someone to fuck the attitude out of you. You're just a cockwhore, aren't you, baby?" His voice was rough as he growled the words through his teeth. He was hovering over you, hands on the mattress either side of your head, trapping you in the shelter of his body. You cried out when he made a particularly deep thrust; his aim never faltered. He found that spot that made galaxies come to life and made your thighs tremble around his slim waist.

"Answer me!" He repeated it louder this time.

"Yes!" You wailed. You felt racked with pleasure when he put a hand on your tit, palming it roughly and pinching your nipple to bring your attention to him. "Yes, yes, I'm a whore, just a cockwhore—of god, right there, right there."

"Whose whore?"

"Eddie, Eddie, please, need to cum—"

"You wanna cum?"

"Yes, yes, please." He was holding you at the edge of the world, leaving you staring into the abyss. You were buzzing with excitement, entirely ready and willing to take a leap of faith with him. You needed to free-fall; you needed to float through the clouds, and he wasn't letting you. Not yet. Not until you gave him what he wanted.

"Then tell me whose whore you are."

"Yours! Your whore! Just yours!"

Now that you'd given him what he wanted, he fucked you harder, impossibly so. The sound of his pelvis hitting the backs of your thighs was a constant smack, smack, smack. The headboard hit the wall with a resounding thud, thud, thud. The neighbours would surely complain, but you don't care because he's going to break you, ruin you, and wreck you.

The knot in your stomach unrolled quickly and all at once. A fresh wave of rapture raced through you like lightening arching through your veins, leaving you staring at the roof with wide-open eyes that took in nothing that they saw. Your back bowed into a perfect arch as you came harder than you thought was ever possible—even harder than you had the first time he'd watched you touch yourself.

Eddie buried his face against your neck, his abdomen dipping in and out as he chased his own release, his breath superheated against your skin while he panted. He was lost in you—the smell of your shampoo, the taste of your chapstick—utterly and hopelessly lost. Eddie came only a moment later, long and hard, painting thick ivory ropes along your quivering walls.

"So fucking good, baby. Pussy was made for me." He rambled between kisses, licks, and bites along your neck. Your nails scratched down his back as you preened beneath his praise, your mind somewhere in the clouds, no higher, in the thermosphere. "You're squeezing me like a damn vice. Fuck, you're perfect. I would burn the world for you. You're mine, aren't you, baby? My desperate whore. All mine."

Eddie kept you pinned to the mattress, legs still thrown over his shoulders as he huddled over you, almost folding you in half. He grabbed you roughly by the chin, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were unfocused, and your face was streaked with tears. He felt your pussy still fluttering around his softening cock as you rode the coattails of your orgasm, each aftershock making you twitch and shake. He kissed you hard until you were breathless. You mewled into his mouth and pawed at him.

And you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were his.

[soupandsimple]

Forgotten Soulmate (with Sirius Black)

[ being Sirius’s muggle soulmate who was bewitched to forget him upon his arrest then Sirius finding you once free to see if he can get you to remember him ]

* fluff?

** the legality of magic in the presence of a muggle doesn’t apply if they’re your soulmate okay?

This was requested: see the ask here

………..

He had found you; your soulmate, Sirius Black, had finally managed to locate you. When he was arrested for James and Lily’s murder, the Ministry had instantly bewitched his muggle soulmate, you, with a memory charm to forget about him and all things magic as there was no reason for you to continue knowing the secret of the Wizarding World since Sirius was to be locked away forever.

There wasn’t a day Sirius didn’t think of you while being imprisoned and vowed to himself that the first thing he’d do if he was ever free, would be to search for you. He knew it would be difficult, seeing as you were a muggle and the list of possibilities of what you could have done with your life was endless but he started his search with what he knew you had always wanted to do more than anything else in the world; to own a bookstore.

You had always loved books and told him your dream was to open a book shop someday, something quiet and cozy. So he went to every private owned bookstore he could come across in hopes of finding you and one lucky day, he finally did.

The first time he looked through your store window and saw you, he swore his knees almost gave out. His heart skipped a beat, his breath seized for a moment and the ache in his soul finally rested upon seeing it’s matching mate again. You were assisting a customer but as soon as he walked in and the little bell above the door rung you turned, “Hello, welcome” you said happily.

Sirius bowed his head in place of a proper hello and turned to start looking at the nearby books. He wished he could have run up, embraced you and kissed those lips he had terribly been missing but he knew he couldn’t; he didn’t want to scare you. Not only that but Sirius wanted you to remember him on your own. If he wanted to reclaim you, he’d have to wake up your memory somehow, which meant he’d have to take things slow and have patience.

That first day, he ended up buying a book. Sirius remembered all your favorite books and came up with the plan of buying all of them in hopes that maybe, just maybe you’d remember something.

Sirius would have to buy your favorites one by one to buy more time and space the visits too as he couldn’t visit your shop everyday either, it’d be too weird. Patience was key.

——————————————————————————

Since then, a couple of visits had come and gone, and today, he was headed there again. So far, his book plan wasn’t really working but maybe it just needed more time, he thought.

“Hi” Sirius casually said as he closed the shop door behind him. Like with every visit, he felt his heart overflow with joy at getting to see you.

“Hello” you politely said, as you always did.

Although you didn’t know his name, Sirius wasn’t just any ordinary customer to you anymore. This man had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and came to your store quite frequently. He quickly had become one of your top purchasers as he had yet to ever come without buying something. Not only that but weirdly enough, he was buying a lot of your own personal favorites.

You watched as he walked to a specific spot. Like always, he must have already known exactly what he wanted as he immediately pulled the book off the shelf and slowly stroked his finger along the spine.

You recognized it was yet again, another one of your favorites. You instantly looked back at the papers scattered in front of you when he made his way over to you.

“Are you ready?” you asked once he got to the counter.

“Yes, I am” Sirius said calmly, setting the book down in front of you.

As you calmly rung up the book, he thought he’d bring up his motorcycle to see if that rattled anything in your memory. If the book thing wasn’t working he had to start finding other ways, right?

“That’s my motorcycle out there..” he said tilting his head a bit towards the window, “ever been on one?”

“No, I haven’t” you replied and told him the price of the book.

He felt a little pang in his heart as he knew you had ridden a motorcycle, many times, you just didn’t remember it.

Handing you the money and trying his best to conceal the pain of you not being able to recall your past with him, he continued on, “Really? I think everyone should ride on one at least once in their life, it’s such a thrill.”

You giggled, “Is it? Maybe one day I will” you said, taking the money from his hand.

To hear you giggle again was like music to his ears, if that’s all he managed to accomplish today he’d be okay, but he still hoped for more, “Well, why don’t you come on a ride with me” Sirius asked.

“You must be joking…” you snorted, as you picked out his change from the register. Other than knowing he had a good, no- great taste in books, you barely knew this guy and yet here he was asking you to take a ride with him.

Sirius endearingly chuckled at your snort; oh how he had missed hearing it, it was something you had always done when he’d say something you found ridiculous. You were still just the same girl he had left which made his heart melt at the thought. Dare he say he was almost even glad you had been bewitched to forget it all as that meant you hadn’t been suffering all these years for him as he had been for you.

“I’m not joking” Sirius said proudly. “What time do you get off, I’ll come pick you up then.”

You contemplated giving this man any information; he was a stranger yes, but for some reason something inside you was telling you this was okay.

“We close at six” you said not looking up at him.

Sirius chuckled, “You close at six do you? Is this your way of telling me yes?”

You looked up at him assertively, trying hard not to break into a smile of your own, “We close at six. Do what you want with that information.”

He let out a breathy laugh and began walking to the door but then quickly turned and held up the book he had bought, “Oh and, thank you.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. Sirius left and you stood wondering for a second, what it was about him that made him seem so…magical.

——————————————————————————

Sirius arrived back at your store at exactly six. You were just turning the ‘Open’ sign to the ‘Closed’ side when he pulled up. You smiled to yourself at his promptness and went out to greet him.

“It’s exactly six o’clock” you said giggling.

“Yes well, I’ve never been one for being late” he happily replied.

You nodded, “Let me just go get my bag and I’ll be right out” you said heading back into your shop.

Now out of sight, Sirius let out a huge sigh. He was scared, what if you never remembered? Would he have to accept the fact that you’d forever be oblivious of your past with him?

You came out, locked the door and walked up towards him and the bike. “Okay, I’m here. What now?”

Sirius patted the spot behind him, “Hop on.”

You bit your lip and swung one of your legs over the seat. You scooted yourself closer to him and hesitantly wrapped your arms around him. Being so close to him, you noticed he smelled like something of your past, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on but you liked it nonetheless.

Sirius’s breath shook a little at the feel of your arms around him for the first time in years, and then turned his head back a little, “You ready?”

You nodded.

He smiled as he noticed you were a little nervous about being on the bike just the same as you were years ago, when he had first ever convinced you to get on one. “Okay, let’s go” he said revving the motor and taking off into the street.

The wind gushed against the bike, you ducked your face into his back at the feeling at first but then once you grew accustomed to the sound and wind, looked back up. It was a thrill for sure, but for some reason it didn’t feel foreign.

After riding through the main road of the city, Sirius decided to turn into a smaller road that led to the outskirts as he had suddenly got an idea; he was going to make the motorcycle fly.

The idea was very risky but his want to get you to remember was bigger than the fear of the risk. After making sure there was no one in sight, he diverted from the road and began flying over the trees.

Upon being lifted in the air, you released a small gasp and suddenly all the memories that had been wiped by the memory charm, most importantly, all your memories of Sirius, returned at once. It was as if a part of your soul awakened and you could feel it bursting with warmth within.

You now held onto Sirius tighter than before and rested your cheek into his back with eyes closed as tears gently trickled down. He felt your hold on him become your same hold from the past and immediately knew you had become aware.

As soon as he could, he landed somewhere in the woods, turned off the bike and let his hands rest on your clasped hands still around his center.

“Sirius…” you quietly released, “Sirius Black.”

He nodded slowly and then in a quick movement, removed your hands from around him and turned to envelope you in his arms, “Y/N, my love” he said burying his face to the top of your head, heavily taking in your scent as you let your head rest on his chest.

“I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you so much and I didn’t even know it” you sobbed.

“Shh, I know, I know love” he said caressing the side of your head.

You looked up at him, “I’m sorry it took me so long to remember…“

Slowly, he shook his head and brought a thumb up to your cheek to smear a tear away, “You have nothing to apologize for darling.”

Sirius looked down at your lips and you looked to his, then both passionately collided them into each other. His facial hair scratched around your lips and the surrounding area of your face but you didn’t care. Nothing mattered to either of you at the moment except for each other.

For years, you had always felt a part of you was missing and now you knew why. Your mind may have been bewitched to forget Sirius Black, but your soul had never stopped longing for him and for the first time in years, you finally felt whole again, just as Sirius finally did too. <3

[aquietwritingcorner]

Writers Month Day 7: Feather/Time Loop Word Count: 4859 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: T Characters: Sheska Warning: NA Summary: Sheska is stuck in a time loop and is the only one that realizes it. On top of that, it’s a little hard to convince people to take you seriously when you’re known for being a bit of a conspiracy theorist. She’s just going to have to take things into her own hands this time. Notes: I have no idea if alchemy could work on time. I have no idea if it could work this way. I even have no idea when this is set (which seems appropriate for a story involving time). But it still made for a fun story! AO3 || ff.net

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Feather/Time Loop

 When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, everything felt normal. She woke up a few minutes late, rushed to get out the door, and barely made the bus on time. When she arrived at Records, she barely had a minute to hang up her purse and coat before she was thrown into the fray, searching and pulling records for nearly every department. She didn’t have time to read them or find out what it was about. All she had time to do was work. She only stopped when her stomach growled loudly enough for Susan to hear, and the other woman sent her out to get some food, chastising her for not eating breakfast.

Chagrined, Sheska left, carrying her newest book with her, and reading it as she walked. She literally ran into Lieutenant Havoc on her way, who barely took the time to set her on her feet before rushing away. She went to the cafeteria, ate some broccoli and cheese soup, ate the unfortunately stale roll that came with it, took time for a little cup of ice cream, and then went back to work, all while reading her book.

Records was still hopping when she came back, and she was sent to the library to get some very specific books that were needed in an investigation. She left and headed to the library to get the books. It didn’t take her long, as the librarians knew her, and just waved her back to find whatever it was that she wanted to get. She got them and then headed out, back to Command. She was curious about the books, though, and was taking a look at one of them when she nearly tripped over a lady.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Sheska said, “I wasn’t looking where I was going! Here, um, let me help you!”

The woman’s hat had fallen over her eyes, an old-fashioned affair, and its very unusual looking feather fell into Sheska’s hand. Sheska tilted blinked at it, taking it in.

“This is an unusual—” Sheska started, but that was as far as she got. Shouts were heard from around the corner, and Sheska looked up, confused.

The woman saw the feather in her hand, seized upon Sheska, and then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she had a bit of a headache. She woke up a few minutes late, probably due to that headache, and then rushed to get out the door, although she paused long enough to grab a muffin. Something told her she might need that. The bus was starting to leave when she got to it, but it slowed enough for her to get on. Records was already busy when she got there, and Sheska hung up her coat and purse and got right to it. She was able to lay hands on the records they needed much faster today, and eventually Susan told her to go take a break because she had been working so hard.

She left, taking her newest book with her, although it was oddly familiar. Shrugging, Sheska figured that she must have read something similar in the past. She looked up just in time to step back and out of the way of Lieutenant Havoc, who was rushing down the hall with Lieutenant Breda. They seemed to be in a hurry, but Sheska didn’t bother to listen. She went to the cafeteria, got some broccoli and cheese soup, hesitated over the rolls for a moment, taking her time to pick one, and then got herself some ice cream. She flipped through her book, trying to figure out why she knew what was happening in it.

Records was still hopping when she got back, and she was sent to the library to get some very specific books they needed for an investigation. Sheska frowned at the list, certain she hadn’t managed to read them, but finding them familiar all the same. It didn’t matter, though, and she went on, the librarians waving her back, and she finding the books quicker than normal. She left with them, looking one of them over when she ran into a lady.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Sheska said. “I wasn’t looking where I was going! Here, um, let me help you!”

The woman’s hat had fallen over her eyes, and old fashioned thing with an unusual feather secured in it. Sheska frowned. She recognized that feather from somewhere.

“Say, have we met before?”

There was shouting from around the corner, the woman muttered a curse, and then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she felt confused. It was Friday, but it didn’t feel like a Friday to her. It felt like a Sunday, like she should be going to see her mother. Even as she dressed and left her house with a muffin and an apple in tow, the day didn’t feel like it was supposed to be Friday. She couldn’t figure it out, even on the whole bus ride to work.

When she arrived at records, it was busy. She barely had time to hang up her purse and coat before she was put to work. She spent the morning pulling records, almost as soon as they could request them of her. When Susan sent her to lunch, she knew exactly what her new book was about. Even Lieutenants Havoc and Breda rushing down the hall didn’t surprise her. She ate her broccoli and cheese soup, carefully picked out roll, and ice cream all why trying to put her finger on what was so odd about today.

Records was still hopping when she got back, and she was sent to the library to get some very specific books that investigations needed. She was positive she hadn’t read these books before, but she knew exactly where to find them, as if she had. The librarians waved her on back to find them and find them she did. In a daze, she stepped outside, looking over one of the books, trying to figure out how she knew it. She did not see the lady that she ran into.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Sheska said. “I wasn’t looking where I was going! Here, um…” Sheska trailed off, staring at the feather in the lady’s hat. “Have… have we—”

There was time for no more, as there was shouting and then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she felt like something was very off. She looked at the time, not surprised by what her clock said, and got dressed, able to find where she had kicked of her shoes knowing which stack of books had collapsed on them during the night. She took a muffin and an apple with her, as well as some coffee, and made it to the bus on time. She sat there, predicting where every person was going to sit that morning. When she made it into records, she already had her coat and purse ready to hang up, and began pulling records, even before they were asked for. It was as if she knew what was going to be asked of her.

Susan gave her a break, and Sheska left, her book under her arm. She paused in a hallway, waiting a moment, and watched as Lieutenants Havoc and Breda rushed by. She got broccoli and cheese soup, and hesitated over the rolls, picking one that she though was stale. She was right. She ate her ice cream, skimmed the book and found she knew all of it, and returned to Records, where she knew she’d be going after a certain list of books. She was right again, even though she had never read these, and she took off for the library, making predictions as to what she would see along the way. She knew exactly where the books were, and she got them. She stepped outside, glancing at the books, but looked up right before she could run into a lady. She reached out and caught her arm.

Her eyes fixated on the feather on the lady’s hat. “Hey—we’ve met before, right?” Sheska asked. “Recently, right? I—” she wasn’t able to say more, as there were shouts from down the street and then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she was positive she was going crazy. She got dressed, grabbed breakfast, left, and caught the bus. She knew every person that got on, every bit of their conversation, and exactly what would happen. She knew that she would find records busy, knew that she would be put to work immediately, knew what records would be pulled. She knew when Susan would send her to lunch, knew when to move out of the way of Havoc and Breda, knew which bowl of soup she would end up with, knew which was the one stale roll. She knew which ice cream cup she was going to get, knew every word of her book. She knew that she was going to be sent to the library, knew the booklist, and knew where they were. She even knew that she was going to run into that lady again, the one with the strange feather, and hear shouts and then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she knew something was very wrong. She tumbled out of bed, hastily dressing herself, and didn’t bother with breakfast. She rushed out her door, barely doing more than finger combing her hair, and took the early bus into work. Records was already busy when she got there, but she skipped past it and managed to find Major Armstrong in investigations instead. They were busy too, but it didn’t stop her.

“Major, Major!” she said. “Major, something’s wrong!”

“Sheska?” he looked at her, his brows creasing in worry. “Are you alright? You look a little… rough.”

“What—no, I’m fine but, Major, there’s something weird going on here!” Sheska insisted.

“What is it, Sheska?” he asked her.

“I—I don’t know how to explain it, sir, but I think I’m becoming psychic or something!” she said. “I know what’s going to happen before it does!”

Major Armstrong blinked at her, and Sheska could feel the rest of the office dismiss her.

“Sheska, I—”

“I’m not crazy!” she insisted.  “I already know what records you’re going to ask for today!” she said, listing them off. “Lieutenants Havoc and Breda are going to come rushing down the hall around lunch time. There’s going to be broccoli and cheese soup today, and only one roll is going to be stale. I know what’s going to happen in my brand-new released book, and then later I’m going to be sent to the library for a list of books! And then—”

“Sheska,” the major interrupted her, gently. “Sheska, that’s enough. It sounds like a normal enough day. Those are all common things, and we haven’t even gotten a list of files or books together yet.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Have you been getting enough sleep, lately, Sheska?”

“I’m not crazy!” Sheska said, her voice rising. “I know there’s something wrong! How else do I know what’s going to happen!”

“Sheska, why don’t you take the day off.”

“I don’t need--!”

“Sheska,” the major’s voice was a little harder this time. “Take the day off.”

She looked up at him, and felt tears enter in her eyes. If the major wouldn’t even believe her, then who would? She set her jaw and looked up at him. “I’m not crazy!” she said. “And I’ll prove it!”

She turned then, pulling herself out from under his hand, and took off.

“Sheska, wait!” she heard him call after her, but she didn’t bother. Instead, she went straight to records, completely ignoring both Susan and Rachel, and started pulling records—all of the ones she could find that she knew they’d need later. Then, without telling anyone what she was doing, she left, and went to the library to pull the books from there. The librarians looked at her a little concerned but let her go ahead anyway. She pulled them, and then went to sit on the stairs and waited.

Sure enough, at 2:07, the lady with the unusual feather in her hat came around the corner. Sheska reached out for her, grabbing her.

“Wait!” she said. “I want to know what’s going on!”

The lady jerked her arm out of Sheska’s grip, there were shouts from around the corner and then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she was wondered if she was wrong. She dressed, left, and caught the bus. She pulled records, went to lunch, stayed out of Havoc and Breda’s way, ate her food, looked through her book, and went back to Records. She went to the library, pulled the books, and then waited. No one made mention of her odd behavior, that she could clearly remember. No one thought she was crazy. It was as if the day before hadn’t happened.

The lady with the feather came by again, and Sheska stood up to block her path. The woman tried to push past her, there were shouts from around the corner and then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, it was with a new theory. She turned on the radio. She dressed and paid attention to everything that she could hear or see. She paid attention to the conversations on the bus. She paid attention to the conversations at work. She paid attention to everything she could. And this time, she didn’t try to stop the lady with the feather in her hat. This time she let it happen and then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she immediately turned on the radio. It was the same as the day before. She dressed and went to work. She didn’t do one thing differently from the day before. And the day worked out just the same. Every conversation, every step, every motion. Even the shouts from around the corner. They were all the same. And then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she called in sick to work. Sheska was, indeed, not sick, but she needed time to figure things out—and right now she wasn’t sure if that was something she didn’t have, or something that she had too much of. All Sheska knew for sure was that time was repeating—and she was stuck in a time loop no one else seemed to notice.

But how? Why? There could be a million reasons as to why this was happening, and she could have very little to do with it. Although…

She thought back to the conversations she had heard before, the files, the books. Everyone was mobilized looking for an alchemist. Sheska wasn’t exactly sure what she was researching, but it was enough to have everyone in a tizzy. Whatever it was, it was dangerous, and they wanted to stop her. But why? What was she doing? And did it have any connection to this time loop? Sheska bit her lip. Okay, it was time to lay out everything she knew.

By the time 2:07 rolled around, Sheska knew one thing for sure—she needed more information. She would get it the next time around. And then--

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, it was with determination. She got up, dressed, went to work, and headed straight for the records that she was asked to pull. Only this time, she read over them before she gave them, something that slowed her down quite a bit. Susan fussed at her for this, but Sheska paid it little mind. She took more records with her when she went to lunch, watching as Havoc and Breda ran by, and read over them. When she returned, she hid in the stacks with more records, reading over them as well. And then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she knew she needed to do more research. She got up, she dressed, she went in, and she proceeded to grab what she could and read over them. She neglected her other duties, and Susan and Rachel both were upset with her. But Sheska kept reading. And then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she went straight to the library. She looked for the books that she had gotten in previous loops and started reading them. She spent three straight loops doing nothing but reading these books. And then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she knew she needed to try again. She got up, she got dressed, and she headed to work. She went straight to Investigations and tried to talk to Major Armstrong. Once again, he listened, but he didn’t seem to believe her. She could feel the rest of the office laughing at her, even if no one physically did. The major said that he’d consider what she said, but Sheska could tell that she was dismissed, as he was more concerned with finding and catching this alchemist than Sheska’s theory on a time loop.

Sheska then went upstairs to talk to Colonel Mustang and his men. The colonel was surprised, but he, too, seemed to dismiss her idea. Even Edward and Alphonse, who were in the office, seemed to think that her theory was out there.

Sheska insisted, not letting up, and she could feel the judgement of all of them on her. Before Mustang could do anything, though a call came through, and everyone rushed off, leaving her there in the office. Not sure what else to do, Sheska followed them, trying to get their attention, and ignoring orders to leave.

To her surprise, the group rounded the corner, and there was the lady with the strange feather on her hat. There was a shout and then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she was disheartened. She didn’t get out of bed, and she didn’t call in. How could this get fixed, if no one would believe her? Would she be stuck like this forever? Forever would really mean forever too, if this was a time loop. Sheska buried her head in her pillow and wallowed in despair. She could take one loop to do this, right? And then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she knew that no one was going to get her out of this, if she didn’t do it herself. So, she stayed home, and laid out a plan. She would need to figure out what this alchemist was doing. She would need to understand it. And she would need to find out where it was happening. She’d also probably need to learn alchemy herself for this to work. It wasn’t something she had done before, but she had read about it. With that in mind, Sheska outlined a plan and committed it to memory. And then—

When Sheska woke up on the next fourteen Friday mornings, she didn’t do her work. Instead, she researched every bit of information she could find on that alchemist as well as all of her works. She didn’t understand them all, but that wasn’t terribly important to Sheska yet. She would recall all the information she could, and then—

When Sheska woke up on the next thirty-eight Friday mornings, she did nothing but study alchemy. She started at the basics and sought out help when needed. She found that she could catch the Elric brothers before they went to Command, and they were very helpful in teaching her things, even if they were always surprised by what she knew. She managed to put most of it off on her memory, saying she just didn’t have the practical part down, but it seemed to work. Between the books she read and their help, she developed a knowledge of the circles and how they worked. It was enough that she thought she might be able to at least comprehend this alchemist’s circles if she came across them. It was after that she could work on developing counter measures. And then—

When Sheska woke up on the next nine Friday mornings, she scoured the city for signs of the alchemist’s work. She found it, and studied it, and realized that it was out of her league. She dedicated it to memory though, so she would have it, and then—

When Sheska woke up on the next sixteen Friday mornings, she worked on developing a counter plan to the alchemist’s. it took a lot of trial and error, and outside help that would never remember helping her, but eventually something that should work was developed. It was just a matter of getting it all in place. If she could do that, then the circle could be broken—and hopefully the time loop too. And then—

When Sheska woke on the next eleven Friday mornings, she tried to implement her plan. But there was never enough time to get things in place herself as well as get to where she could activate it. When it failed for the elventh time, Sheska let out a scream of frustration and then—

When Sheska woke on Friday morning, she knew that to get done what she needed to, she’d have to make a scene. So she got up, pulled on clothes, didn’t bother to brush her hair, and went to work. She stopped in the main hall, took out a knife, and started carving a circle in the floor, which got her more than a little attention. When an MP came to stop her, she cut him off saying that she needed to see every alchemist in the building, and just to prove she wasn’t joking, she activated her circle to make a sculpture that they would have to recognize took some skills.

It did get attention, and she had more alchemists than she realized were on campus show up. There was shouting and yelling and confusion, and Sheska climbed her sculpture and used part of it like a megaphone.

“Everyone be quiet!” she yelled through it, and they all looked at her in shock. “Just shut up and listen to me,” she said, and that raised more than a few eyebrows. “You’re trying to find Miriam Layburg, right? She’s an alchemist that you think is experimenting with states of matter and cosmic forces. Well, you’re almost right.”

Sheska moved one of the pages in the giant book she had created, turning it to show at least part of the research she had done. The fact that she could move a page, had created a sculpture that she could do that with when, apparently, she had developed this skill overnight, raised even more eyebrows.

“What she’s really experimenting with is time itself and the flow of it. And you know what? She succeeds. She succeeds and we’re all caught in this massive time loop. And for whatever reason, I’m the only one that’s noticed!”

“How can we believe you?” someone called out.

“Do you think I can learn how to do this over night?” Sheska snapped out. “I’ve been stuck in this forsaken time loop for 107 days! I’ve had time to learn plenty! And yes—I am rather grouchy about it!”

That seemed to shut him up, and she turned her attention back to the crowd. “I think I’ve devised a way to break this, but I can’t do it on my own. The time loop resets every day at 2:07pm. It goes back to 7:04am. I don’t have enough time to get everything in place and start the process. And I think this would better done with others helping me.”

There was murmuring among the crowd. “If you help me, you can capture her, and break this time loop!”

“What’s this plan of yours look like?” Edward called out, clearly a bit suspicious.

Sheska reached into her bag and pulled out what she had sketched up earlier that morning, tossing it down to him. “Look at that. It has locations and circles that need to be at those locations. They’ll need to be activated at the same time to break it.”

“Big brother, this looks like your work, here,” Alphonse said, pointing at part of the circle.

“That’s because the both of you helped me develop it,” Sheska said. “You just don’t remember it, because it was in other time loops.”

There was murmuring again, although both Elrics, Mustang, and Armstrong stayed bent over her book. They exchanged looks.

“If you know where she’s set up, then how come—”

Sheska interrupted the question. “Can we please save those questions for after this works? There’s no time right now.”

Looks were exchanged again, and the Mustang spoke up. “What do you need us to do?”

Relieved, Sheska let out a sigh. “Alright, I think for this to work best we’re going to need to…”

Sheska laid out the plan, bit by bit, and assigned people to the different tasks. At 2:04 she was standing in front of the library, a circle at her feet, and waiting for the woman to come towards her. And, just as before, the woman did. Only this time, when she saw Sheska, she turned and tried to run away. Sheska cried out, the others tried to catch the woman, she felt the circles activate and then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she screamed. She screamed and pounded her pillow and probably woke her neighbors, but she didn’t care. She dressed, grabbed her book, sketched some things out and headed to Command again. She got every one’s attention again. She convinced them, again. And she set the plan in place, again. And when it came time, she was in place, again. Only, the woman wasn’t, and Sheska needed her in place for this to work, and then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she wailed. And then she got up and got to work again. Only this time, she also got the MPs involved in finding the woman. They weren’t fast enough, but it at least gave Sheska some information, and then—

When Sheska woke up on Friday morning, she was determined not to fail. She walked into Command. She got everyone’s attention and convinced them of what to do in record time. She gave the MPs the information on where the woman was. At 2:04 Sheska was in place. At 2:05 the MPs reported funneling the woman in her direction. At 2:06, the woman was forced around the corner. She tried to stop and backtrack when she saw Sheska, but there were too many soldiers after her.

So, instead, she launched herself at Sheska.

She knocked Sheska down, and the two of them went rolling. The woman fought like a banshee, but Sheska, tired of all of this, fought back fiercely too. And when her hand closed on the feather, Sheska realized something.

“Sheska, now!” Edward’s voice rang out, and Sheska kicked the woman off of her, slammed the feather down on the circle, and activated it. It lit up and then—

When Sheska woke up, she was not in her bed. She turned her head to see a calander, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Monday, the date three days after that Friday she had been stuck in. She heard her door open and turned her head towards it. She blinked in surprise when she saw not just Major Armstrong, but also Edward and Alphonse Elric standing in the doorway.

“Oh—she’s awake!” Alphonse said, smiling at her.

“Oh, Miss Sheska!” Major Armstrong came flying to her side, tears already falling from his face. “We were so worried about you.”

Sheska looked over at the date and nodded. “Is that true?” she asked.

“It is indeed,” he rumbled, putting a gentle hand on her head. “Young Edward’s idea.”

Edward looked a little embarrassed, but he also grinned at her. Sheska smiled back. “What happened?”

“After you activated that circle,” Edward said. “Her alchemy broke. Turns out that weird looking feather was, like… a part of it, somehow. You using it helped to break the effect she had on time.”

“I knew it was important,” Sheska said.

“Honestly, its all a bit confusing,” Alphonse said. “We’re still trying to figure it out. We could probably use your help with that, considering you have all of that knowledge in your head. But not until you’re rested!”

“Why am I here?” Sheska questioned.

“Whatever you did, it drained your body of energy,” Armstrong told her. “You were passed out and haven’t woken up until just now.”

“I see,” Sheska said. She sighed, and then snuggled down further in the blankets. “Well… I think that after 111 loops in time I deserve a bit of a break. I think I’m going to stay right here and enjoy all the wonderful new things that the day brings.”

Armstrong smiled down at her. “I believe that’s reasonable. Rest well, Sheska. There will be time for more later.”

The three left her room, and Sheska settled into the bed with a smile.

She was never going to read another time-travel sci-fi book again.

Well… unless it was really good, anyway.

[whathappenedtomyweekend]

It’s Just A Spark Ch.18 - Home

(TW for this chapter: mentions of blood/violence and mentions of homophobia coming from an abusive father)

It still baffled Astrid how different a place could look by night compared to how it did by day. There was something about the narrow, empty streets of Berk drenched in moonlight that made her feel calm like no other place she'd been to before. Not even back at Puffin Point she'd felt this kind of serenity.

Astrid unlocked her front door and took a deep breath at the sight of her dark and empty flat. It smelled like home. She'd left a place she'd called home out of habit and had arrived in Berk with an odd sense of belonging as soon as she'd set foot outside the bus station into the busy street. She hadn't ever been able to explain it, but something about this place made her feel like she wanted to stay - so she had done just that and made Berk her home.

And despite everything that had happened to lead her here, she'd never regretted it. Her keys landed on the small table next to the entrace, followed by her phone and wallet. Her shoulders were aching as she painstakingly shrugged out of her jacket, the crammed-up three hours of sleep on a frail metal bed she'd got now properly announcing themselves. Astrid grimaced and rolled her shoulders back and forth a couple of times before she peeled herself out of her clothes, threw them into a corner and put on her pajamas. She forced herself to a trip to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face and then - finally - dragged herself back to her bedroom. She'd be able to catch a couple hours of sleep before work. Another three, maybe. Three and a half if she was really lucky and fell asleep right now immediately.

The song she'd set as an alarm tone got gradually more annoying with each and every passing morning. Today, the very thin line between 'strong annoyance' and 'burning, all-consuming hatred' had been finally passed. Astrid forced her eyes open and angrily glared at her phone, only to find the display telling her it was 7 am as if it was mocking her.

"Shut up," she growled into her pillow and hit snooze, turning back around and cuddling into the warmth of her blanket. Why was it that beds were only ever this comfortable when you had to leave it within five minutes?

Said five minutes passed. The alarm went off, once again. Astrid hissed and tried to fight the urge to press the snooze button a second time. She failed.

___________________________________________________

"Excuse me, I'm looking for the cat section."

Astrid's face lit up at the sound of the voice behind her and she turned around, to find Hiccup grin at her, hands in his pockets. She mirrored his expression and decided to play along.

"And are you looking for something specific, sir? Anything I can help you with?"

"Oh yes, actually, now that you mention it - I was looking for my girlfriend. About as tall as you, blonde hair, breathtaking blue eyes-"

His voice trailed off as Astrid, now laughing lightly, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him gently. Hiccup chuckled into the kiss and pulled her in by the waist, flush against him and found that he still couldn't stop smiling, even after days of having kissed her for the first time, somehow still not believing his own luck as his other hand gently cupped her face.

After a few seconds Astrid suddenly pulled back, a frown on her face but a glint in her eyes, her hands stilled on his chest now.

"Hang on - was that another asthma joke?"

Hiccup's grin told her everything she needed to know, so she rolled her eyes and kissed him again.

"So - fancy some non-cardboard ice cream?" she asked after they'd parted (and remembering they were still very much in public), grinning up at him.

Hiccup frowned, smiling apologetically. "Actually, I just dropped by to ask if you're free tonight and would mind cutting my hair? Technically I'm still on my shift, just took a little break."

"Oh," Astrid paused, her expression slipping for a moment, but then shrugged and smiled again. "Sure. I'll be home, just drop by whenever you can, yeah?"

"Amazing," he grinned and pressed a quick kiss on her cheek. "Thank you."

Her hands rested on his chest again as Astrid got on her tiptoes to be on the same level as him. "Anytime. Now go, the city of Berk needs you," she quipped, maybe a bit more dramatically than her smile would make you think. Hiccup rolled his eyes but leaned in for a last kiss and hugged her shortly.

"I'll see you later."

______________________________________________________

Hiccup was still grinning to himself, warmth deeply settled in his chest as he lightly pushed the door of the common room open.

"Hey guys, sorry I-"

He stopped abruptly as he saw Snotlout and Gobber, huddled together on the sofa. His cousin sat there, completely motionless, his head buried in his hands. The other fireman was speaking in hushed tones. Within a heartbeat Hiccup was at the sofa, his eyes searching Gobber's.

"What happened?"

The older man's eyes were dark, but he didn't speak. Instead Snotlout pulled his hands away from his face, almost mechanically, gaze still cast on the floor.

Hiccup's blood froze when he saw the bloodied bruise across his cousin's chin and cheek, his nose crimson red with not-yet dried blood.

"Oh, my God," he breathed out and sank down onto the floor next to him. "What happened?" he repeated, urgently.

Snotlout turned his face away again, baring his bruised cheek.

"Scott, what happened?"

There was an edge to Hiccup's voice now, and finally Snotlout turned to face him and spoke, his eyes dark.

"My Dad."

Hiccup's heart stopped for a second, a curse escaping his lips.

"Fishlegs and I have been texting," Snotlout's voice was hollow as he spoke. "Dad must've got to my phone while I was in the kitchen.

Hiccup's eyes grew wide, his heart painfully seizing, already know what exactly had happened and - more imortantly - why it had happened.

"Shit."

Snotlout nodded grimly and shrugged slightly. "Next thing I know, he's screaming - things and he-" he stopped, his breath hitching in his throat as he fought the fresh tears that were gathering in his eyes. "Threw me out."

The moment the tears were spilling over, he hid his face in his hands again, his shoulders starting to shake violently. Hiccup and Gobber exchanged a short look and a wordless conversation, and then Gobber abruptly got to his feet, his expression grim. There had only been a limited amount of times Hiccup had seen his uncle this furious, and yet dangerously quiet, his fists clenching and opening again as he stood in the middle of the common room. His voice was shaking with held-back rage as he spoke.

"I'm gonna go and pack a few things for you, son. You're staying with your uncle and me."

Hiccup opened his mouth, the words 'Let me go with you' on the tip of his tongue, but Gobber just held up a hand and added, "You're staying here. That bastard wouldn't dare to pick on someone his own size, I'll be fine."

Hiccup gave up quickly, knowing there would be no deterring Gobber in a moment like this, so he nodded firmly and sat down next to Snotlout.

"You're on call response until I get back," Gobber added, addressing Hiccup once more. The younger man nodded a second time.

"We're here," he said, maybe more to Snotlout than to Gobber and slowly, carefully as to not to startle his cousin, laid an arm around him as he silently shook with quiet sobs. "We're here."

____________________________________________________

"I got you some tea."

Hiccup carefully set the steaming mug down in front of his cousin, who had gone back to staring blankly at the floor in complete motionlessness.

He'd let Hiccup tend to his wounds, and the young man had been relieved none of Snotlout's open bruises had required any stitches. He sat back down next to him and after a moment of silence, quietly said, "Don't let it get cold."

Almost automatically, Snotlout reached out and took a sip from the hot beverage, clutching it tightly with both hands as he continued his staring contest with the floor.

Hiccup knew he couldn't force him to talk about anything that had happened. But right now, he wasn't even sure if it was a good idea to even go as far as ask.

Several minutes passed.

"I'm not a piece of shit, am I, Hiccup?" Snotlout's voice was hollow when he finally spoke to the ground. "Just because I'm bi. That doesn't make me a bad person, does it?"

Hiccup's heart broke a little. "Of course not," he said, his hand back on his cousin's shoulder. Snotlout shook it off reluctantly, tears gathering in his eyes again.

"So why did he say that?"

"Say what?" Hiccup probed gently, now keeping his hands away.

"That I'm not his son anymore," Snotlout choked out, eyes desperately glued to the floor. "Why would he say that?"

"I don't know," Hiccup admitted a moment later, his heart aching for his cousin who looked so young and afraid. Looking at him now, the burly young man who carried himself with confident bravado seemed more like a little boy, cowered together to make himself as small as possible. Fragile. Snotlout seemed fragile right now, and Hiccup didn't know what to do.

So he let him cry, let him lean against him and cry into his shoulder until his tears had subsided and his breathing had calmed down again.

"Do you want a sip of water?" Hiccup asked once Snotlout's shoulders had stopped shaking. The dark-haired man wiped his nose with his sleeve and nodded, almost sheepishly. Hiccup nodded and carefully got up and went into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water.

Upon his arrival he found Snotlout staring down at the ground again, resting his chin on his hands now. He shortly looked up as he heard Hiccup enter and tried a small smile.

"Thanks," he muttered as Hiccup handed him the glass and quickly emptied it, now for the first time realising how thirsty he was.

They sat in silence for a while.

"It's like I came to my senses, you know," Snotlout said then, his head in his hands again. "After what you said. About not saying anything. Fishleg's amazing, I'm not the only one who sees that. So what if somebody else does - say something. And then he'd fall for that person. Not me. So I-" he paused, still not looking at Hiccup. "So I texted him again. And we've actually agreed to meet up, after my Friday night shift. Proper dinner as well, restaurant and everything, no alcohol this time."

With this, he finally looked at his cousin, shooting him a small, unsure ever-faltering smile. Hiccup returned the expression and gently nudged his shoulder.

"See, knew you could do it," he paused for a moment, then his grin widened. "Look at you, going to candle light dinners with the guy of your dreams."

Snotlout let out a weak laugh, pretend-pushing him away lightly. "Alright, don't get too excited. Just because I took your advice doesn't mean it was very good, okay?"

"Sure, Snot, whatever you say," Hiccup grinned, making him bark out another hesitant low laugh.

"Shut up."

_______________________________________________________

Gobber returned with clothes and a dark expression.

"Right," he let the pile of clothes fall onto the coffee table and turned to look at the two younger men. "I've phoned Stoick, you can sleep on the sofa until we've cleared the spare room out for you."

"Thank you, Gobber," Snotlout mumbled, a strange mix of relief and shame written over his face. "I'm really sorry for-"

"And you're not finishing that sentence," Gobber interrupted him sharply. "There's nothing to feel sorry for, son. You're welcome to stay at ours for as long as you need and want." His expression softened with every word he spoke, and finally, Snotlout smiled up at his mentor, the shame slowly vanishing.

"Thank you," he repeated, louder this time and - for the first time in hours - got up from the sofa, looking a bit sheepish. "Now I just need a toothbrush."

"I've got a spare one in my bathroom locker," Hiccup offered, relieved at the sight of the smile on his cousin's face at his words.

"Right - it's settled then, I'll get a bag for your things," Gobber decided, rubbing his hands together and giving Snotlout a quick pat on the back before he left.

Snotlout sat back down next to Hiccup, smiling softly to himself.

"Love that guy," he said, weakly pointing to the spot where Gobber had just stood. "And you too, by the way. Never said that, I think. I know I'm always acting like … you know."

"Like you're fearless and untouchable and don't need anyone?"

Snotlout snorted, side-eyeing Hiccup sheepishly and nodded. "Yeah, more or less."

Hiccup shrugged lightly and grinned. "It's okay. Thank you for saying it. And I'll be here for you, okay? Whenever Gobber and Stoick are maybe a bit too much - so maybe after, I don't know, two three … hours or so - you can come crash at my place, yeah? We'll watch those Keanu Reeves movies you like so much."

Snotlout looked at him, and for the first time this evening, felt completely calm and only grateful.

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

[aizawaskittenwhore]

  𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭

words:3.7k

pairing: aizawa x fem!reader

warnings: tw mention of blood, tw mentions of death, mentions of drugs in case you forgot this is a cartel au, murder, swearing, keigo being a cocky lil fucker, sexual harassment towards the end cause yakuza men suck

rating: 18+ cause shit gets real this chapter

a/n: i FINALLY FINISHED IT FUCK YES chapter two mothafuckas!!! i’ve been having so much fun brainstorming everything to come, and here you’re gonna really get a feel for how big this cartel is. player two, f/n l/n, you’re up! <3

all rights reserved ©️aizawaskittenwhore. do not copy, repost, or modify.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝’𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 ↳ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

September 13th, 2181

2:56pm

Musutafu, Japan

“Hold the fuck up. This doesn’t make any sense, I mean—these are Pros. Well known and well respected Pros, at that. The hell would they be tryna’ run a fucking cartel for?!?” Ken Takagi (more commonly known as Rock Lock) rubbed the bridge of his nose in confusion, not understanding the motive or correlation. “I mean think about it. These motherfuckers got more money than they know what to do with. Endeavor is a shareholder in goddamn Nintendo, Hawks owns his own fucking agency and line of sports cars, and I could’ve sworn I saw Eraser getting Shinsou fitted for a fucking Cuban on his birthday a few months ago. It’s not like they’re strapped for cash these days.” Ken huffed, the agent’s arms crossed as he leaned back in the conference chair.

In an attempt to try and broaden the range on your current investigation, your department recruited the help of several Pros to provide reinforcements in Japan, the States, and wherever else sales were being made. Going undercover was already plenty dangerous, and going alone was the equivalent of signing your own death warrant. Enlisting the help of Rock Lock, Ryukyu, Miruko, Fatgum, Edgeshot and plenty of others was relatively easy; these were Heroes that had experience with smugglers and narcotics-based operations, so when you’d approached them with the task at hand, they’d happily agreed.

However, some needed more convincing than others.

“Takagi. Think about it. Sure, they may not be living paycheck to paycheck, but look at the timeline.” You state, looking over your shoulder towards the holographic board displaying an interactive timeline of the investigation, including photos, invoices and even audio recordings pulled from surveillance cameras. “Two years ago, we seized a truck containing approximately 78 kilograms of crack cocaine. When we questioned the driver on where he was taking it and where he got it from, he didn’t budge. Luckily for us, the dumbass wasn’t smart enough to avoid a paper trail, leaving the insurance documents in the glove compartment when we’d taken him into custody. The insurance company was under the name “Target Lance”, but after doing some digging on the name we found out the corporation went bankrupt six months before and was eventually bought out by Chevrolet.” Pausing to return to the screen welded to the wall behind you, your hands swiped as you searched for the file reading December 5th, 2178: A live video feed of a towering skyscraper being built, the building’s name reading “Chevrolet Corvette Inc.” as it hovered above tens of stories above each worker.

“But you all haven’t heard the name Chevy in a while right? That’s because two weeks after that building was built, the hundred-million dollar company was bought out by Takami Corporate-”

“-who owns Takami Motors. Which is the brand associated with the Peregrine Speedsters, Hawks’ damned sports car line.” Ken finished for you, brown spheres twinkling in sudden clarity. “Now you’re speaking my language.” You nod, hands waving as you continue to brief the room of Pros.

“The Todoroki and Nintendo console collaboration didn’t happen until about earlier this year, March to be specific. Which is quite convenient..since around that time the price of cocaine per gram stabilized in both America and Japan, rising from $112 to $138 bucks a pop. I’m nobody to speak on looks either, but for as long as we’ve known of him, Eraser has dressed like a depressed college student with insomnia that doesn’t understand the concept of soap or a pair of clippers. Now he’s got his wife in Cartier bracelets and getting his shirts tailored because the collar “doesn’t allow him enough room for his capture weapon”?!? Bullshit.” You huff, stifling a smile as you watch Miruko and Edgeshot snicker in their seats at your...blunt observation.

“It makes sense. Three years ago all our agencies, including those overseas, started cutting our checks down by half. They can barely afford to pay us a quarter of what we used to make, and these guys are making these lavish purchases while we all starve?? No way. Something’s fishy, and it’s damn sure not this takoyaki.” Fatgum spat, hands quivering with rage as he struggled to grasp the food with his chopsticks.

“Fatgum’s right. Hero unemployment is at a staggering 8.7 percent. Meanwhile, these men are spending money like it’s going out of style. It makes no sense.” Miruko pondered, Ryukyu folding her hands in her lap as she voiced her approval for immediate action. Edgeshot nodded in agreement, brows furrowed in frustration at this blatant disregard for the law. “So we’re all in agreement that our own people have resorted to breaking the law. Cool, got it. Question is, why? And what the hell are we gonna do about it?” Ken demanded, his patience having worn thin from all this speculation.

“Good question. I think they’re trying to take advantage of the tough spot the Hero Commission is in right now, manipulate that vulnerability and use it for their own gain. They’re not invulnerable to the tough times Pros are facing in the workforce. So they’ve gotten together to try and make it work for them, even if it means breaking the law.” You query, hands typing furiously at the virtual screen to pull up the files of each Hero, displaying all the current information on them from their blood type to each known family member. “These three banding together though? Along with other people? There’s no way. They hate each other. Or at the very least couldn’t get anything done even if they did have a common goal in mind.” Edgeshot murmured lowly.

“I thought so too. But then it hit me: it’s not just some flimsy group project. Sure, crime has gone up since the formation of this cartel, but nobody who holds any rank has been murdered or harmed in any way. No no no, these guys are singing in tune for now...which means there’s a damn good choir director among them. So I’ve volunteered to go undercover, work my way through this organization and figure out just how high up this goes.” You assert, shoulders rigid and chin aloft as the harnesses of your costume frame your figure.

“Alone?? Are you outta your goddamn mind? Let me go, you’ll need back up-” Rock Lock sputters, hands fanning out in shock.

“No way. What about your wife, your kid?! This isn’t just some average drug bust, we’re dealing with powerful men in possession of superhuman abilities that have the game on lockdown. You’ve got too much to lose, more than any of us anyway. Edgeshot and I will go, we’ve seen the other side of the law before, and our quirks are better suited for stealth should anything go wrong.” You fire, eyes narrowing into slits. “The rest of you will be working in tandem with the DEA and our resources, and we’ll report back to you with all future developments. We’ll also need you to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice, if we need it.”

A thick silence clogged the air, Ken settling back into his seat across the table. His amber eyes flickered in irritation before huffing in acceptance, the situation being out of his hands. All the conference participants’ gazes fixed in determination, some with anger. The tense aura weighed on everyone present before Miruko cleared her throat, ivory teeth gleaming in a smirk.

“Well we’ve got a solid plan. So all I wanna know is...when do we start?

June 2nd, 2182

In all honesty...you thought the nickname was just a sad attempt to stroke his ego. But seeing the way over seventy commercial-size planes and approximately 30 seaplanes sat aloft balmy concrete in the Guadalajara sun showed you exactly why they called Hawks “Lord of The Skies”. Arrays of laborers with avian-oriented quirks loaded kilo after kilo of coke on to each and every plane, some by hand and others by forklift. Welders were personally hand selected by Keigo himself to eliminate the issue of utilizing every available inch of space; each vessel having been stripped of everything from the seats to the built in mini-bars (much to Keigo’s chagrin). From where you stood in the scalding hot beams, the runway seemed to extend for miles as it brimmed with visible heat-waves.

Dressed in a simple black tank top, black biker type shorts, aluminum plated gauntlets, steel toed combat boots and harnesses that encapsulated the curves of your body before coming to a stop at your thighs, you silently rejoiced in the airflow your gear allowed you in spite of the color. The bandanna atop your hairline helped to absorb some of the sweat, which was a bonus.

“Not bad for a starter fleet huh? The wingspan on these babies almost makes me jealous.” A rich and decadent voice called from your left. Sleek carmine appendages and brassy blond hair entered your peripheral vision, giving way to the man who ran the show: Keigo Takami. Adorned in a pair of low rise denim jeans that were so incomprehensibly tight they accentuated every bit of his dick (which was likely intentional), a plain white tee and ebony cowboy boots that looked like they cost three times what you make in a week; he most definitely looked the part of the People Magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive” and Playboy’s “Player of the Month” titles he’d earned. Luminous olive skin glistened with sweat, droplets sliding down the deep v neck of his shirt with ease; the way the daisy-hued fabric stuck to his crafted abdomen leaving nothing to the imagination. Tourmaline and Argentium piercings dangled effortlessly from both ears, and if you weren’t so hell-bent on putting the motherfucker in jail you would’ve had no problem admitting how attractive he really was.

“Starter fleet? You’re about to put Delta out of business, look at this shit!” You guffaw, arms folded, an eyebrow raised in astonishment at his “humble” admission. “Flattery will get you everywhere, and then some.” Keigo chuckles, breath hot against your ear the instant he bends at the waist, hands settled in his pockets with that cocky aura about him.

“-And having your damn breath against my ear in 107 degree weather will, respectfully, get you my foot up your ass. I didn’t fly down here to get treated like one of your poor interns. I came here to make money, so let’s talk it.” You lash, the climbing tempature slicing your tolerance for bullshit to shreds.

“Shit. Straight to the point huh? I like it. You wanna talk shop, say no more. Over lunch though, I’m starving out here.” Keigo clicks his teeth with a grin, escorting the two of you towards the very jet he’d arrived in. “A little unknown fact about me, usually I hate flying ”conventionally”. Gives me anxiety, and I’m awful company when I’m nervous.”

Settling into the light taupe hued cabin, you observe the not-so-subtle elements of class. Ivory shochu bottles with intricate crystalline glasses to match, the bar fully stocked with gold accents along the upholstery. Plates of costly Kobe style beef rested atop spotless porcelain, romaine lettuce coupled with grilled applewood bacon, chicken, avocado and buttermilk dressing settled into envy-inducing black marble bowls. The plane was spacious, and certainly cost a pretty penny or two. “You’re upfront, so I’ll be honest with you. As of right now, this plane is the last thing I’m worried about-” Hawks mutters lowly, dijon eyelets tapering into thin slivers.

“-It’s the Shie Hassaikai making their encore appearance, and with the Colombians at that.”

You choke on a sip of Vega Sicilia, pupils dilating at the thought. 

“Now you spoke about wanting to make some money, right?” You nod, heart rate steadily rising. 

“What if I could offer you something more? Something of...extensive value.” Keigo drawled, dark undertone flooding the air like a thick smoke.  “Like what, Takami?” You inquire.

“A seat at the table.” He shrugs, like one would if they were discussing something as trivial as ice cream flavors or Friday night plans, not the reorganization of a crime syndicate. “You’ve been workin’ for me shy of a year now right? Somethin’ like that? Anyway..”

He takes a deep, contemplative swig of the chestnut liquid, eyes boring into yours. 

“You’re efficient, and you don’t take anyone’s shit. Good help’s hard to find in our line of work, and before you know it, this little hierarchy is gonna go under some..reorganization. Only the people who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty will have a place in the new order, so I want you there.”

“What’s the catch? I’m not dumb enough to just assume this is some promotion for busting my ass.” You tread, brain working double-time to try and decipher just what Keigo’s getting at. “Clever girl. It’s a simple task, in and out.” He assures, middle and ring finger sliding a matte-finish photo across the mahogany. Displayed was Kinan Zango, a member of the Shie Hassaikai’s middle rankings shaking hands with Joaquin Fuentes, a Columbia native known for having a body count in the double digits. 

“Another fact about me: Only one thing heightens my anxiety more than planes...people who fuck with my money. This asshole Kinan’s been selling my routes to the fucking Columbians and pocketing the profits, and getting 20% of the product as a little “thank you” when he knows nobody moves coke through the Gulf other than Takami fucking Keigo. He’s becoming a problem, and I don't like those.” Kei growls, left eye twitching minutely. His nails are sinking into the polish of the wood, his energy vehemently furious.

“Take care of this for me, and you’ll be my plus one to Guadalajara tomorrow.”

The general public often made the mistake of writing Keigo off as just your average “pretty boy”. Whereas a trained eye could see that while he may be pretty, he was nobody to be tested. The sheer intellect he possesses to seek, hand-craft each and every route, assign planes to their designated locations along with alternatives should there ever be an issue? He just didn’t get enough credit. 

So he took major offense when someone had the audacity to treat his hard work as though it was theirs.

Besides.. you got a man with looks, money and bloodlust? Tch. You’ve just created a monster.

You weren’t necessarily opposed to the idea of ridding the world of another drug-dealing degenerate, but the idea of casually committing a murder as a DEA agent in a foreign country just didn't sit right with you. Undercover agents weren’t permitted a “license to kill” should the investigation call for it either, so it was between committing a murder as government agent, or declining Keigo’s request and missing out on a front row seat to the cartel’s entire operation.

The silence that followed his sentence was deafening. Ice cubes chimed loftily as they swirled around inside his glass, clear liquid sloshing around while he awaited an answer.

Your jaw sets, eyes piercing into his. 

“Consider it done.”

Blood spattered onto the pale concrete, moonlight illuminating the scarlet hues. Your knuckles throbbed with pain, the sensation blossoming through your hand as your lips curled back in a snarl, vigorously ridding your hands of the other man’s bodily fluids. 

“ If you really think coming after me for that bird brained motherfucker is gonna change anything, you got another thing fucking coming.” Kinan spat, nose steadily flowing with red. His lip was busted, face splotched with yellowing purple bruises. Tugging at his restraints he thrashed, mouth spewing white-hot venom.

“You’re talking a lot of shit for a middle-ranking yakuza who thinks some new coke routes is gonna keep the Hassaikai from dumping your body on the side of some road in Zacatecas.” You observe, sending a harsh kick between the mans ribs, steel toed boots making an audible crack. “The Japanese are like Dixie Cups to them...”‘use em’ once, then throw em’ away”, right? You’re a fool if you think your days aren't numbered once you wear out your welcome.”

“Fuck you. You’re little boy toy threw a temper tantrum, so he sent you to “take care of things”, isn’t that right?” Kinan coos, eyes softening in a mocking pout. 

“Trust me, you're not the first slut Takami’s been sticking it in that he’s sent to kill me. Only difference between you and the rest of those bitches-” He huffs, head craning back against the metal chair to let our a soft breath of laughter. “-is that you’re gonna put up a fight.”

Suddenly his bones began to shift, popping and snapping as his skin began to pool below him; you recoiled in fear watching his body slowly slip from his imprisonment like gelatin exits a mold.

“I’ve got elastic bones kid! Whatever breaks just snaps right back into place.”

Skin stretching and pulling as he regained his original form, legs sprinting towards you. Before you could fire off your Quirk’s sonic blast his grip seized the back of your neck, a blade taking residence just below your left eye; it’s tip pressing uncomfortably into your water line. 

“Now, if you're good, I’ll make it quick. Though I’m known for being pretty... through with my toys.” Kinan leers, a hand slowly slithering down your sides to reach for the muscle of your ass. 

“Go to hell, and die there while you’re at it!” You shout.

Bile creeping into your throat, you seize the momentary shift in energy, generating a small sound wave that sent Kinan a few feet to your left; giving the two of you some distance. Your Quirk allowed you to absorb sound to power-up your physical movements, or send it out in the form of sonic blasts or sound waves, so the louder the sound, the more power it gave you. Readying your fists in anticipation for combat, you silently willed for a sudden disruption in the deafening silence as he rushed back to your rigid body. 

What you didn’t anticipate was that the sudden bang that filled the air, and the lifeless body of Kinan dropping to your feet with a thud, his head...

excavated, for lack of a better word.

“Don’t you know the entire point of having backup while under cover is to... call for backup?” Edgeshot snarked, striding towards you, gun settled back into it’s holster. His foot carelessly nudged the bleeding man before removing a Polaroid camera from his knapsack and snapping a photo of the carnage.

“W-what the fuck?! Look, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful when I say this, but what the absolute fuck did you just do??? We’re government agents, in a foreign country, we can’t just fucking murder these assholes nor do we have the license to-” You sputter, brows arching in frustration.

“This was your ticket into Guadalajara. I just secured you box seats when you were this close to getting stuck in the damned nosebleeds. I believe the correct words you’re looking for are thank you.” Kamihara snaps, shoving the photo into your hand. 

“We’re in a world completely different from our own. It’s forgiveness first, and permission later down here. I don’t like it either...but it’s just the way things are.” He sighs, hanging his head while his shoulders settled like the solar system rested on them. 

“I’ll take care of this. Now take that to Hawks, and don’t you dare fuck it up. Don’t let me have killed this poor asshole in vain.” 

You nod, stepping over Kinan’s body. 

Good riddance.

“Thank you, by the way.” You putter. Kamihara returns the sentiment with a nod, before turning to the corpse before him, phone raised to his ear as he spoke with whoever was on the opposite line, eyes that were once grey now swam with deep scarlet.

“Excellent work! I won’t lie, I had a feeling you were hardcore, but damn, this is some seamless shit! You deserve my praise.” Keigo beams, pearly teeth sparkling in the light of the cabin. Nodding in acceptance you grasped his hand upon his offering, permitting him to escort you towards your respective aircraft.

“Well, a promise is a promise. And if nothing else, I’m most certainly a man of my word. Meet me at this airstrip same time tomorrow, 8am. Pack light, Mexico’s a bitch in the summer, though you already know that.”

“Got it. Pleasure doing business with you, Hawks.”

“Call me Keigo, if you want. I hate all the formal shit, long as we got respect, that's all I need.” He shrugs.

“Understood. See you tomorrow, Keigo.” You affirm, climbing the ladder to your jet, body visibly relaxing at the thought of rest.

“Wait--before you go, I wanted to ask ya. What’s with the whole ancient hieroglyphics tat you got goin on, on your spine? It just looks familiar, is all.” He queries.

Home.

November 12th, 2174.

“Y/N! I found somethin’! It’s this super cool protection rune I found in grandma’s things. Check it out! It wards off all evil, and whoever’s in possession of it can, like, balance their energy with the divine power.”

“You’re such a hippie, I swear to god.” You grin.

“Don’t hate because my chakras are balanced and yours aren’t, bitch.” She grinned, index and thumb coming together to flick your forehead. 

“At least take it with you for your exam, for good luck! Pleaseeeee! I think it’ll really help.” Her doe eyes melting your steely resolve. You could never deny her, those eyes constantly solidifying her role as the younger sister. 

“...Only if you’ll clean my room for me when I come back for Christmas.” You demand, an eyebrow raised in mirth.

“Deal.”

And even though you never did admit it to her, that tiny piece of paper tucked into your bra did more for you during that exam than any late night cram session ever could’ve.

“It’s a protection rune. To ward off all evil energies, spirits and all that shit.” You mutter.

“Hm. Looks like it works, seeing how well tonight panned out for ya. Could use me one, would probably keep old man Todoroki out my fuckin’ hair.” He chuckles, hands releasing from the railing as he threw you a wave.

“But I wouldn’t worry too much about tomorrow, anyway. I got a feeling you’re gonna fit in just fine with us.” He smirked.

Ah.

If only that were true, Keigo.

taglist! : @liliesoftherainmain @therealwalmartjesus

[finnyboywolfhard]

Song That The Morning Brings (Chapter Twenty Two)

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

catch up here 

summary: the gang hatch a plan to escape the russian base and a secret is let out. 

warnings: cursing, fluff, angst, violence, spoilers ig 

word count: 4.4k

Y/N climbed her way out first, glancing around the room. Glass cases surround the room, all of which are brimming with canisters of the green liquid. She kept muttering to herself, wondering what the hell it was and cursing some obscenities for the situation she was in. She helped Erica and Dustin out a bit, watching as their eyes looked at everything around them. They all took a moment to look around the room a few times over, scanning for something that would help them. Dustin starts to chuckle a bit, and scurries over to a nearby wall. Both Erica and Y/N follow him over to where one of the little red carts was.

“Do you even know how to drive?” Erica asked Dustin.

“No, he doesn’t. But I do.” Y/N watched as Dustin attempted to turn the key and start the engine.

“You seriously thought they’d just leave keys in there?” Erica pointedly asked Dustin. Y/N agreed with the young girls dumbfounded tone. It was a naïve idea on Dustin’s behalf.

“There’s gotta be a spare.” Dustin said started to search around the cart looking for it. Y/N stays with Dustin at the cart, however she starts to examine it. She looks in the back of the cart and then she looks at some of the walls, shelves and floors around her. She was searching desperately for anything that would help them. Realistically, she had no idea what she was looking for. Maybe a way out, maybe a weapon, maybe the keys to get the hell out.

“Hey guys?”

“Yeah?” Dustin replied for the two.

“How big did you say that Demogorgon was?” Y/N felt her stomach drop. She stood straight up and could only vaguely hear what the other two were saying.

“Big, nine feet or so. Why?” Dustin replied to Erica’s question. All he got was silence in return, this freaked Y/N out a bit, why didn’t she answer? The sound of something unlocking shook her from her daze.

“Holy shit, Dustin.” She said as she saw him opening up a vault where multiple keys were stored, specifically for the cart. “Erica, He found them…” her words trailed off as she turned to look at Erica and she wasn’t there. “Erica?” A loud zapping noise came from behind them, causing the two to leap around in fright.

“What the hell is that?” Dustin screamed toward the smaller girl.

“A deadly weapon, could be useful.” She pressed the button to bring the zap back once more.

“For what?”

“What do you think? Taking down commies, saving your friends.”

“Thought you were more realistic than that, nerd.” Y/N replied, “Besides, we don’t even know where they are.”

“I mean, even if we did, there are a million guards up there with weapons way deadlier than that.” Dustin continued off of his sisters thought. “The best thing we can do for them is get out of here and find help.” This broke Y/N's heart. What if they went and got help, but it was entirely too late? “Our chance of surviving and theirs, rises substantially. Just trust me on this, please?” he pleaded with Erica, and also his sister in a way. He looked to his sister to start and drive the cart. She hesitantly did so, scared for what they might run into.

               They drove for a bit, trying desperately to navigate where to go, with each turn Y/N took she felt more and more helpless. Until she heard shouts in the distance. She turned the engine off and sat for a moment, hearing an ear piercing scream come from Steve. She turned the key back and pressed the pedal to the metal.

“Y/N! What are you doing? We need to get them help, not to get them.”

“Dustin, I love you but you just heard that too. That could not have been good, and if I lose him because I went to get help…” She started saying before tears threatened to spill.

“Let’s go.” Dustin said from next to her. She continued to drive near where the screams and shouts were coming from. On quick thinking, she turned around and went back to the room filled with the mysterious green substance. She had each of them grab a few.

“Listen to me, we’re gonna go near an entrance and we’re gonna smash them all,  create a distraction. Then, we’ll go grab them and get the hell out.”

“Are you sure that’s gonna work?” Erica piped in for the first time in a bit.

“No, but I think it’s worth a shot.” They loaded up the goo and she went to where she could hear the most voices. She had them all toss them out onto the floor, making sure that they shattered. Once one did, a chain reaction started. Guards started to notice the ruckus, and she got out of there as quick as she could. Once back inside the maze of hallways, she listened for the familiar voices of Steve and Robin, and tried desperately to remember where the sound came from. She heard Steve’s chuckle a few rooms down. She didn’t know what took over but she whipped around a corner once the alarm started blaring, signaling all of the men to the source of the alarm. She saw the room ahead. She stopped the cart and turned the engine off, rushing to get out and into the room. Dustin takes the weapon from Erica’s hands and charges into the room with it already turned out. He lets the weapon shock the man in front of Steve for a long time before eventually stopping as the man was seizing on the floor. Y/N immediately got to work on the ropes that were tying them together. She could barely see either of their faces, but she knew she needed to get them out of these first. Once the knots were undone, she looked up at Steve.

“Stevie, your face.” It was the worst it’s been after a fight yet. Blood was stained against his face, with fresh blood coating the top. There was blood soaked into the uniform across his chest.

“Hey! Y/N! I was just talking about you.”

“Get ready to run. Both of you” Y/N said looking up at the two sitting in front of her. She got them completely undone and reached out her hand to help him up. He was stumbling a bit, but she thought he might just be concussed. “Come on! We gotta get out of here.” She helped Dustin and Erica load the two gangly teenagers into the back of the cart. Y/N got into the driver’s seat once again, and began maneuvering her way out immediately.

“Jesus! Slow down!” Steve yelled from the back.

“Yeah! What is this? Is it the Indy 500?” Robin quipped up alongside Steve.

“It’s the Indy 300.” Steve corrected her.

“No dingus! It’s 500!”

“It’s 300!”

“Let’s say a million!” Robin responded once more. The two both started uproariously laughing at that mediocre joke. Y/N couldn’t help but turn around to peer through the grate at the two in the back. Something was up with them.

“What is wrong with them?” Erica yelled.

“I don’t know!” Y/N responded in a scared voice.

“Y/N, watch out!” Y/N let her worry get the better of her as she crashed the cart into a bunch of the same metal barrels Steve knocked guards over with earlier. Everyone slammed  forward, the two in the back causing the metal grate to reverberate sound. Groans filled the stale air.

“You guys alright back there?” Dustin asked nonchalantly. The three upfront grabbed the two from the back despite their desperate protests to stay back there. Y/N was attempting to stabilize them as they were walking. Dustin walked over and used the keycard to open the elevator. They all climbed aboard, except Y/N was worried about her two coworkers. With one more swipe, the elevator began hoisting itself upwards to the surface once again. Robin and Steve were goofing around on some of the trolleys that were in the elevator. They couldn’t stop laughing.

“You look like you’re surfing!” Robin shouted directly to Steve.

“Woah! Yeah!” He said, trying to emulate the motions of surfing more extravagantly.

“They seem drunk.” Erica said.

“Why would they be drunk?” Dustin asked in response.

“This certainly isn’t as simple as drunk.” Y/N said dismissing both of their responses. She gets cut off by Steve falling off the trolley into a bunch of boxes. She immediately ran over to him, her brother following closely behind.

“Stevie, oh my god.” Y/N let the words fall from her mouth. Dustin laid his hand across Steve’s forehead.

“He’s burning up.”

“You’re burning up.” Steve slurred back. Dustin started examining other parts of Steve’s face, especially looking deep into his eyes. Steve kept trying to squirm away and whispered no, but Dustin just proceeded.

“His pupils are super dilated.” Dustin exclaimed towards both Y/N and Erica.

“Maybe he’s drugged.” Erica responded out. Steve’s hand came forward towards Y/N’s face.

“Boop!” Steve said after touching his finger to her nose.

“Stevie, are you and Robin drugged?”

“How many times dad? Y/N and I don’t do drugs, it’s only marijuana.” Steve let out in response. The girl cringed at the fact that he just said that aloud. Dustin took quick glances to both Steve and Y/N, while her shoulders tensed up and her face became scrunched.

“This isn’t funny okay, We need to know what they did to you.” Dustin demanded Steve. “Are you gonna die on us?”

“Boop!” Steve once again tapped Y/N’s nose, ignoring Dustin’s question completely. From the other corner, Robin finally spoke again.

“We all die, my strange little child friend. It’s just a matter of how and when.” She smiled towards Dustin, twirling her hair while she said it.

“They’re gonna be looking for us up there, so I need you to tell me where you parked your car.”

“Oh, can we make a pit stop at the food court?” Steve and Robin discussed food for a second.

“Wait! My car! Um, the keys are in Scoops I think.”

“We’re not gonna have time to go there and get out, we need his keys.” He turned away from Y/N and back to Steve. “yes, you can have as much food as you want, but only if you tell where your car is parked.”

“Uh-Oh!” Steve said in a sad manner.

“What do you mean uh-Oh?” Y/N asked gently.

“The car’s off the board.” Dustin responded with a what and Steve continued, “they took the keys. The Russians, they took the keys.” Steve started messing around with his pockets, showing how empty they were. Both Steve and Robin start laughing at the misfortune once again. “That’s a bummer right?”

Erica, Dustin and Y/N share a few looks before attempting to get the other two off of the floor so they can get the hell out of the elevator. The only problem was the next course of action. As they walked into the fresh air, robin began cheering out.

“Oh my god! That tastes so good!” The girl began to lap up the air with her tongue. “Steve, can you taste the air?” Not long after the boy joined her in eating the air. They start walking towards the exit gate when multiple armed men start walking into it. Dustin turns everyone around, and they wrangle the two drugged ones. They race into the mall, once inside Dustin leads them all into the movie theater to hide.

“Where are we going?” Erica yells to him.

“Just trust me!” The group sneaks into the complex and then into a theater showing Back to The Future. No one even noticed when Steve grabbed a bag of popcorn right from the trash can. The movie is playing on the big screen, just as Dustin drags Steve and Robin to open seats in the front row. He turns to his sister and says,

“You sit here with them, make sure nothing happens.” She takes on the job with her complete energy. Him and Erica disappear to the other side of the theater. Y/N watched as the two stared at the screen with glazed over eyes and open mouthed smiles. They were transfixed. Even all bloodied up and bruised, Steve was still the most attractive man she had ever seen.  However, the rush of having to pee came into her system fast and hard. She hadn’t even noticed that she hasn’t peed in nearly two days. She turned to the two beside her.

“Do not move. I will be right back, I have to pee.”

“Okay, Y/N/N we won’t.” Steve replied with an overbearing softness.

“Yeah Y/N/N, we won’t!” Robin repeated Steve.

The girl found her way out of the theater without being seen and ran right to the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet and let it all out. She put her uniform back on, and then sat down again. She needed a moment of peace. A break from the hecticness of the evening. She took a few deep breaths before she heard the door slam against the walls and multiple footsteps running in. Soon enough she heard retching in the stalls beside her. She ran out of her stall and saw both Steve and Robin throwing up. She ran beside Robin to hold her hair back. The two puked for a bit before both of their nausea dissipated. She stayed silent, letting them have a few moments to breath and relax from what just happened. She stood up and walked to sit against the wall outside of the stall. Robin sprawled herself out on the floor and Steve sat comfortably against the toilet.

“The ceiling stopped spinning for me.” Robin broke the silence. “Is it still spinning for you?”

“Holy shit, no.” Steve replied out.

“Do you guys think you puked it all up?” Y/N asked them, gauging how they were doing.

“Maybe, ask me something.” Robin said in a calm tone. “Interrogate me.”

“Okay, interrogate you, sure.” Steve said, sounding more like him by the second. “When was the last time you peed your pants?”

“Today.” She let out blankly.

“What?”

“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw.” They both started giggling, and Y/N joined in as well without even realizing it. “It was just a little bit though!” Robin said through laughter.

“Yeah, it’s definitely still in her system.” Steve said rubbing his eyes.

“Alright! My turn!”

“Okay, hit me.”

“Have you…” Robin pulls in a harsh breath, “Ever been in love?” Y/N’s whole body tensed. She didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want to hear that he had only ever loved Nancy and that he didn’t love her as well. Even if he did, he wouldn’t say it right now would he? Y/N adjusted the way she was sitting, in case she had to get up and leave in the middle of his answer.

“Uhh, yeah, I have. Twice.”

“Twice?” Y/N spoke back.

“First, Nancy Wheeler, first semester, senior year.” He fakes a gun shot sound as he points his hand to his chest. This is what she was waiting for. This was the pain she knew she would feel.

“Oh, my god. She’s such a priss.”

“Turns out, not really.” Steve added dully.

“She’s actually kinda badass.” Y/N adds in.

“Are you still in love with Nancy?” Robin asked. ‘Yes.’ Y/N thought to herself.

“No. I’m not.” Y/N felt her whole body tense. No?

“Why not?”

“I realized that I’ve been in love with someone longer. It just took me too long to realize it. You see, there’s this girl. And we had a falling out for a bit. But then, she came back in my life full swing. She’s so smart, and funny, and strong. She’s so gorgeous. Dustin keeps telling me to find my Suzie.”

“Who is Suzie?”

“This girl from camp, I guess she’s his girlfriend. Anyway, I don’t think I need to find her. I already did. She just…She’s different and I fucked it up the first time. But there was this night back in December where it just clicked. She’s the only one who has ever believed in me, and I love her so much.”

Y/N thought back to the night of the snowball. She thought back to the moments they were talking about what happened between the two of them, and how they reconnected.

“I’ve apologized for what I said. I don’t even know why I said it. Maybe I thought that it would snap you back to reality. Even then, I didn’t hate you. I don’t think I’ll ever hate you. I believe in you too much.” Y/N wrapped her arms around herself and waited for his response.

“You’re the only one who ever has.” Steve said quietly.

It didn’t take a genius to realize who Steve was talking about, but rather than face it now, Steve instead said, “What about you Robin?” She didn’t answer Steve at first, rather she tucked her face between her legs. “Robin? Did you just OD in there?” Steve said from the other side of the stall. Steve slid down under the stall to sit across from her and Y/N moved closer to the stall.

“The floors disgusting.” Robin finally spoke again.

“Yeah, well, I’ve already got a bunch of blood and puke on me so.”

“Rob? Have you ever been in love?” Y/N asked, setting her hand on Robin’s shoulder.

“Maybe not love, but really strong like.” She spoke quietly.

“Who is it?”

“Do you remember what I said about Clicks class? About me being jealous and like, obsessed?” Y/N looked between Robin and Steve, clearly missing a piece of the puzzle. She knew that they had had that class with one another, but she couldn’t figure out where this was going. Steve shakes his head.

“It isn’t because I had a crush on you.” Robin takes a breath, trying to calm down her nerves which were clearly skyrocketing. “It’s because…she wouldn’t stop staring at you.” Y/N felt her whole body go still, Robin was coming out to them. She was endlessly proud and happy for Robin that she was letting it all out.

“Mrs. Click?” Steve asked, almost causing Y/N to laugh, but she stopped herself and let Robin take over once more.

“Tammy Thompson.” Robin let out in a hushed sentence. Y/N let her hand go to grab Robin’s, giving it a soft squeeze, to show that she was there for her. “I wanted her to look at me. But she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair.” This caused Y/N to let out a soft laugh. “And I didn’t understand because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor. And you asked dumb questions. And you were a douchebag! And you didn’t even like her and … I would go home and just scream into my pillow.” Robin finally concluded her story. Steve still had a confused look on his face.

“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.” He said in return.

“Steve.” Robin whispered and looked into his eyes, yet he still looked confused.

“Yeah?”

“Stevie…” Y/N said at the same whisper and inflection. That’s when it clicked for him.

“Oh…” He sat for a second, as she repeated the word. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit.” The three sat in awkward silence for a moment, all thinking about the confessions that were left on the table.

“Steve, did you OD over there?” Robin asked, reciting his joke from earlier.

“No, I just, uh- just thinking.”

“What’re you thinking about?” Y/N asked him.

“I mean, yeah. Tammy Thompson, you know, she’s cute and all, but…I mean…she’s a total dud.” Steve spoke out. Y/N cracked a smile for that one, noticing Robin’s quick defenses.

“She is not.”

“Yes she is! She wants to be like a singer. She wants to move to like Nashville and shit.”

“She has dreams!” Robin said in attempts to defend her again.

“Except she can’t even hold a tune! She’s basically tone deaf. She can barely sing without sounding like…like…” Y/N said, trying desperately to think of what she sounded like. Steve began mocking how she sings, Y/N joining in. Robin started laughing telling both of them to shut up.

“She doesn’t sound like that!”

“She sounds exactly like that.”

“We were doing a great impression of her.” Y/N said applauding her and Steve’s imitation.

“You both sounded like muppets!”

“That’s it! She sounds like a muppet!” Y/N said, finally completing her thought from earlier.

“She sounds like a muppet giving birth!” Steve exclaimed as well. The three all started laughing before Steve started the song once again to mock Tammy’s awful voice. They were cut off from their laughter and singing by Dustin slamming the door open and storming into the bathroom.

“Okay! What the hell!” Dustin shouted at them. All three of them started laughing once more, unable to take Dustin seriously after what just happened.

“Calm down Dusty, I went pee and then they came in and threw up. I have been taking care of them and I made sure I wasn’t seen. It’s okay, I promise.”

“Well we need to get out of here and fast or else they will find us.”

“The movie is probably almost over, let’s just get out then.” Robin said, trying to calm Dustin down a bit.

They surrounded the door, leaning against one another in attempts to see when the crowd was leaving the theater. A swarm of people started to exit the theater doors.

“And…blend.” Dustin said leaving the bathroom. The rest of the group immersed themselves in the crowd, trying to look as normal as possible. They kept up the pace of the rest of the crowd her were swiftly approaching the exit.

“Well, shit. That worked.” Erica stated, clearly not thinking it was going to.

“Of course it worked.” Dustin’s voice was laced with confidence. “We just have to get on the bus with the rest of these plebes, and home sweet home here we come.” Y/N was excited at the thought of all of this being over, at least for a night. She knew that it was never gonna be fully over seeing as they were opening the gate, but that was a problem for tomorrow. A problem for after sleep.

“Uh, Dustin?” Steve said just as Y/N was about to say something.

“What?”

“We might not want to go to your guys’ house.”

“And why is that?” Y/N said voice laced with concerns.

“Well, I might have told them Dustin’s full name.”

“You did what?” Y/N said, voice rising a bit higher than she should’ve.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Dude! I was drugged.” Steve said in attempts to find some innocence.

“So?”

“So?” “SO you resist! You tough it out. You tough it out like a man.” Dustin claimed.

“Dusty, how would you even know how to tough it out like a man?” Y/N mocked her little brother.

“Seriously, that’s easy for you to say.” Steve said trying to defend himself. Y/N could tell that he was getting a little worked up. He had the tendency to do that with Dustin, they would bicker and get heated. Y/N was usually the mediator, and more than likely in charge of calming them both down.

“Guys?” Robin spoke up from the other side of the pack, her voice filled with concern. She grabbed Dustin and Erica and pulled them back gently. Y/N and Steve stopped in their tracks as they noticed what she did. Standing only a few feet in front of them there was a few of the Russian men checking ID’s and asking people questions as they were leaving. There would be no way that they could get past them.

“Abort.” Dustin spoke, slightly too loud. The man looked over and noticed the group standing there. Fear flooded through each and every single one of their bodies. The group started to slowly back away from the crowd, in attempts to get themselves away from the Russian guards blocking the exit.

“Abort! Abort!” Dustin kept yelling to the group. Robin led the way, weaving through all of the people trying to find somewhere to go. They all ran to the escalators, thinking maybe they could find a way out from down there.

“Shit.” Steve whispered yelled right behind Y/N. They got to the escalators and they were turned off and roped off.

“Uh, okay.” Robin said in a fearful tone. Her language was becoming sparse and scared, something none of them had heard from Robin yet. Steve looked back and saw the men finding their way through the crowd just the same as they had. Y/N looked over to him, seeing it in his face how truly scared her was. But her attention was pulled away by Robin going down the center of the escalator like a slide.

“Okay, come on, let’s go!” Steve said, rushing everyone to do the same. One by one they flung themselves down the makeshift slide. They all rushed to hide behind the counter of The Great Cookie. Once hidden, they could hear the guards speaking thick Russian into their walkies. Every second felt like it was one second closer to death. The men’s footsteps were very prominent. The thick black boots they were wearing essentially pounded against the floor. Suddenly, one of the men’s voice was heard far closer than it had yet.

Y/N instinctively grabbed for both Steve and Dustin’s hands, clutching them both as if it was the last time she was doing so. Her breathing became unsteady and inconsistent. They had been found and there was no way that they could escape this. The guards footsteps took on a synchronized pattern as they stepped closer and closer to the counter they were behind. Everyone jumped as the sound of a car alarm started wailing in the court. It was going crazy, drawing the attention away from the hidden group. The car was bouncing and honking, it was uncontrollable and an out of this world phenomenon. The car flew across the food court, knocking down the guards as it flung across. All of the men, knocked cold and presumably dead. The group rises up slowly from behind the counter, Y/N still clutching one of Steve’s hands. Their eyes slowly panned around to look at the men on the floor, the still rattling, yet torn off cap, to the car that was now overturned and finally up to the balcony where the party was standing as well as Jonathan and Nancy. Smiles of relief took over Dustin and Y/N’s face.

 taglist: @mochminnie @queen1054 @prettysbliss @voidnarnia

[laineybug04]

A Helping Hand

Amy has a hard time being taken seriously after Chaos destroyed Station Square. So when she has a vision of a boy stuck in a capsule who may be the key to Eggman's next big scheme, no one is willing to listen or help her. Determined to help save the day this time, Amy strikes out on her own to save the mysterious black hedgehog from her dreams 

Chapter 1- Next Chapter

I saw this concept while browsing tumblr. Special thanks to mewmewhakusho and another-sonic-blog for letting me play around with this idea. I've been a Shad/Amy shipper for YEARS and I've never seen this idea play out before. Here's my take.

Extra special thanks to Nothin' Fancy for beta reading for me once again!

Visions of Grandeur

A delicate white-gloved hand hovered over a deck of cards spread in an arc on a table covered in red lace. The cards were shiny and looked almost brand new. Amy knew better- they were a family heirloom passed down from generation to generation for hundreds of years. If her mother was to be believed, they were almost as old as the chaos emeralds! The candle sat to the right of the cards- its flickering light dancing against the shadows, causing the patterns on the cards to sway with them.

A young pink hedgehog stared with green eyes bright from excitement, and glowed in contrast to the dark, ominous mist which surrounded her. The mist was thick with sinister whispers, yet the girl hardly heard or cared to listen. Her anticipation at what was in store trumped any caution she may have had.

She greedily took three cards from the deck and laid them hastily but neatly in front of her. One straight horizontal line that would reveal her destiny. Her hands gently laid them perfectly straight, over the first to the left that represented the past that she needed to know. She continued over the present that the unknown past had affected. Finally she caressed the final one on the right- the future! She twirled in place, her joy was just too much! Sure the last one tended to be fuzzy, but she could usually guess based on the first two, so it was mostly just to complete the rule of three.

Amy Rose was no stranger to tarot readings, in fact she had even used them to find out how to be with her hero, Sonic! They'd shown her Little Planet, where Sonic had bravely saved her life. They'd shown her future- a life of adventure, thrill, new friends and becoming a hero alongside her Sonic in their fight against the old, and nasty, Dr. Eggman.

A gleeful smile took over as she imagined what the cards would show her now! Their first date? Kiss? Wedding day? THEIR CHILDREN? She giggled in sheer delight at the prospects of her happy future. But even as her heart pounded, demanding she quickly reveal her fate, she took a shaky breath to calm her nerves. She wanted to retain some adult-like dignity- this was her future after all! Amy steadied her hand, and flipped over the first card on the left.

The shadowy mist that surrounded her table converged on her and turned to an unforgiving steel color. Her smile faded and her happiness ebbed away- the past was almost never this cryptic. Not unless something horrible had happened. She searched through the fog but only found a large window with thick glass and a foggy reflection. Immediately her heart began to thump painfully, and so quickly, she felt it could give Sonic a run for his money. She pressed her hand to the cold glass and listened to the horrors going on behind her. She heard screaming, gun-shots, and shouted orders over stomping boots. When she inhaled, her nose was assaulted with an unfamiliar scent, it was a sharp coppery smell, with a dark, burnt undertone to it. Her whole body hummed with fear and hopelessness, a heavy weight of despair pressed down on her from all sides.

Amy tried to breathe, and her throat seized, so desperate to help, but with no way to know what was wrong, she floundered. Even in a lucid dream, it was so hard to make out the view behind the glass. It was blurred at first, but as she strained her eyes, she started to make out small white dots within a deep velvety black. The sounds behind her muted slightly as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. And then she realized, she was staring out into the void of space. She looked down, and to her despair, she saw her beautiful home planet of Mobius being drenched in blood that was flowing from the window.

She stared on in horror- she had no way to fix this. Worse still, she hadn't seen Sonic, or really anyone who could help her. She turned back into the fog, trying to see something, anything that the fog could show her how to stop the blood. She searched but still saw nothing and only heard the same conniving whispers under the sounds of the invaders. She growled in frustration and just jumped into the fog. She cried out, "Where are you!? Please, I can-"

She heard a gunshot, one that was louder than the rest, almost as though it was by her head. That wasn't what stopped her in her tracks. No- it was a scream that was so broken and filled with such heartbreak that she'd never heard in her life. The voice was young, maybe only a few years older than her, and it was deep and gravely with fear. Tears burst from her eyes as her heart broke from the anguish in his scream.

"MARIA!"

Amy could feel herself being pulled back out of the dream but she fought it, bringing herself back to the table and looking at the face of the card. She rolled her eyes, she should have known- Eggman's emblem was plastered over the dark background of space- it's eyes bleeding down to the earth below.

"The Death Egg," she decided, shaking her head, "Like that's a big surprise."

Still, her whole body shook. She knew the terrors Eggman had brought onto the world- the Great War between mobians and humans had been unkind to both sides. Eggman, specifically, had chosen himself over either side. It was only recently that Princess Sally and King Nigel had reached out and cultivated a more friendly relationship with them. But the history between the two people was still painful. Even with Eggman as a common enemy...

"I wonder if the United Federation will be involved," she murmured cryptically.

She glared skeptically at the second card, her excitement from earlier had been murdered and thrown out into a ditch. Now she was hesitant to see what else these cards had in store for her. Her frown deepened and she squared her shoulders- she knew how her tarot worked. It would not show her the past unless it was going to have a huge impact on the unseen present.

Amy flipped the card.

This time the mist retreated entirely and she found herself deep in the heart of a jungle. Lush greenery surrounded her, and the warm, tropical wind rushed around her, making the leaves rustle in a soothing lullaby. Her head bent backwards and she saw small twinkles of the afternoon sky between the gaps in the thick canopy above. Her eyes closed for a moment, as she felt peace enter her troubled heart and chase away the horror from the previous vision. She took a deep breath, allowing the damp, warm air to embrace her. She felt light, joyful, and her feet started to move in rhythm with her happiness. As she twirled, her eyes caught the glimmer of gun-metal that froze her heart.

She fell before she could get a better look at it.

A gasp ripped out of her throat as she fell into darkness, but then there was a glow of harsh chalk on a concrete background, 'Was that red chalk?'.

Her fall slowed to a stop before she hit the ground and the writing on the wall was gone. Before her was what looked like some medical, mechanical monstrosity. She looked around to try and get a grip on where she was, but found only more rusted metal, abused cables, and neglected machinery around her. She looked up and saw the ceiling so far ahead, she wondered if she wouldn't die from the fall, normally. The walls were an uninteresting metal grey, and Amy decided to move her attention back to the console in the middle of the room.

As she got closer, she found the thing was so old and covered with dust, she couldn't quite see into the capsule. But she could see the outline of someone inside. She rubbed at the glass desperately, calling out to them. She let out a frustrated huff when she couldn't get them to respond. Instead she made her way to the console attached to it. She ran her hands over the dusty console and saw four buttons specifically that glowed through the dust on them.

"A... R...I...M..." Amy read out loud, "Arim?"

The scream from earlier ripped into the forefront of her mind and she realized the 'A' key had been pressed twice. She looked on in the capsule in sadness, "Are you Maria?"

The capsule pulsed, not in assent, but in Anger. Red mist seeped from the cracks in the capsule and the walls echoed a scream that was much older than the one she'd heard before. This was the roar of an older man- not a child like before. But before she found herself back in the room with the red table, she felt the room ring with a terrible, evil laugh- very much like the one she'd heard come out of Eggman before.

When she was back in the red room, she looked down at the card. It showed multiple strings of chains, some an old, but strong metal and others almost see-through. They were wrapped around a black arm that clung to them so tightly they practically bit into the skin. Over all of the chains was stamped what she recognized as Eggman's insignia. She scoffed in annoyance and confusion, "What the heck is Eggman up to this time?"

A small, scared part of her wondered if it would be worse than what had happened with Chaos and Station Square. Using a literal god of destruction hadn't been enough to take Sonic down. What else was that crazy old doctor willing to do in order to win against the Hero of Mobius?

Her jaw set as she looked at the final card on the table. She knew she wasn't going to get too many answers from it- the future was never truly set in stone after all. This time the main character of the cards was not Sonic or her, but Eggman. She was worried about what the future may hold, but she shook her head. Amy still had no idea what Eggman was up to and she knew she couldn't leave here without at least a tiny clue about what he was up to.

She flipped the card.

Now she was in a new, dark room. The walls were scrawled with the same crazed red chalk she'd seen earlier that seemed to pulsate with malicious intent. In the center of the room sat a lone black hedgehog, curled into a ball with his hands over his ears.

"Hey!" she called out as she ran to his side, "Are you okay?"

The ball unfurled and was on its feet so quickly Amy gasped in surprise. The hedgehog twisted around to face her and Amy was struck by what she saw.

There were dark red streaks in his fur that matched the writing on the wall and his wide eyes. A snarl twitched on his lips as his white gloved fists clenched at his sides, ready for a fight. The white puff over his heart heaved with his labored breathing. To anyone else, this creature would be terrifying. Who on earth had naturally red eyes that seemed to permanently glare into your soul? However, Amy's heart broke for him- the hedgehog was barely out of boyhood, almost Sonic's age, chained to the floor of the room by his wrists and ankles.

"Here," she reached out gently, "Let me help you."

The hedgehog's eyes widened in surprise and he seemed to lean forward for a brief moment. But the next second his sneer deepened and he swung his arms out, "Don't touch me. This is where I belong!"

Amy looked around incredulously before shooting him her own shocked look, "You... don't look happy being here."

"Tch," he scoffed as he folded his arms, "It's not about happiness. It's about what they deserve. What I deserve."

Now the walls seeped with a red mist that the boy was starting to choke on and walls rumbled ominously. Still she stared on at the shadowed hedgehog in front of her and all she could think about was how to get them out of there. She reached into her pockets and was amazed and elated to feel her fingers brush against the cold, metal shape of a key. Amy smiled- she knew this was the key to the hedgehog's chains.

"Nobody belongs in a place like this," she called out in spite of the poison surrounding them, "Come on! Just give me your hand and we can get out of here."

The boy growled and lashed out with the chains, "I said NO!"

Amy dodged the chains and now she was angry, "Stop being silly! This place is going to kill you!"

"You're too weak to stop it!" he growled out, his sneer turning into a soft but cruel smile, "You're pathetic!"

Now Amy's cheeks puffed out in rage. She clenched the key in her hands and she lunged for the hedgehog, "I'LL SHOW YOU WEAK!"

She was pinned to the ground before she'd reached him. As the hedgehog stood over her, holding her down by her throat and his other arm pressing down on her chest, the room began to collapse around them. The mist surrounded them and was only pierced by the glow of seven bright lights that circled around them ominously. The boy's red markings faded into a shadowy mist and his whole body blurred into a vague black monster that held her down and kept her from breathing. As the world faded around her, Amy saw the final card float in front of her- the earth and moon shattered against the backdrop of space.

She heard a sad sigh reverberate in her mind...

Amy found herself on her back, in her bed, with the shadow creature still trying to choke her.

She groaned lowly in frustration. This creature was not the same boy she was trying to save in her vision but some vague dark monster that would try to "choke" her while she woke from her lucid dreams.

"Ugh," she thought as she began to hold her breath, "Sleep paralysis. My favorite."

Amy held her breath for what felt like forever- even as her body shook with desperation and fear of the monster in front of her, she knew there was only one way to escape the beast. She waited as her body slowly woke from the hell, first with tingling sensations in her toes. It was not a pleasant feeling, it felt like tiny, heated needles poking into the pores of her skin. It slowly gravitated up her legs and when she attempted to move her feet to quicken the process, she found she couldn't move them.

Maybe twenty seconds later she finally felt herself wake up and she shot up from her bed with a gasp. After several harrowing seconds of catching her breath she searched the room for the shadow demon from earlier. Only when she found no signs of it did she rest her head in her hands with a groan. Normally she loved being able to consult her tarot cards, even if it always ended in her being caught in sleep paralysis. They tended to show her premonitions of hope, happiness and adventure!

Tonight though...

Amy shook her head, she knew she wouldn't get another wink of sleep tonight. She turned to the window and saw the soft light of the night just before dawn. Amy heaved a large yawn and got up anyway. She dressed in her signature red dress in the dark of her small windowed tent, bemoaning the loss of her apartment six months earlier. As she picked up a bucket from the corner of her room she dreamed about the running water she used to enjoy. She walked out into the pre-dawn landscape, swinging her bucket despite her conflicted mind and got ready for the day.

She walked out into the cleared ruins of the outskirts of Station Square. As desolate as the area was, she couldn't help but give a small smile. The tents each represented at least one person from Knothole Village who chose to help in rebuilding Station Square. At a glance, Amy counted well over three dozen tents- almost a third of the population of Knothole. Amy scanned the horizon- the work on the city was slow going but it was coming along. The water had been completely drained since about a month after the god, Chaos, had wreaked havoc to the city and the buildings were now mostly safely demolished. Despite the devastation, the Mobians were determined to help rebuild what the human's had lost to be better and stronger than before.

"Not to mention learning more about human building techniques," Amy thought with an eye roll. She'd overheard Sally bring that up at the beginning of the rebuilding project. She couldn't argue with how smart it was, and it had gotten so many more volunteers out. Amy couldn't help but feel a bit leery at the phrasing, however, "It's like people can't just help because they can."

Speaking of helping, as Amy filled her bucket from the well- a mechanical marvel very unlike the traditional wells they'd had to use in the past- she couldn't help but think back to the poor boy she'd tried to save in her dream.

"I wonder what Eggman wants with him," she murmured under her breath, "And why he's okay with it...

"If he was okay with it," she corrected herself, a sad weight clutching her heart, "What was that writing on the wall, anyway. Part of the curse...?"

"Hun?"

"I wonder if those lights were the chaos emeralds," she continued to mutter under breath with a shrug, "Wouldn't surprise me if they were involved, somehow."

"Rosie!"

"There's always got to be some sort of magic when it comes to Eggman," she sighed as she stretched her neck mindlessly, "For a mechanical genius, he sure relies on the supernatural a LOT."

"Amy!"

Amy was pulled out of her reverie and shrieked when she saw her bucket was overflowing and she was wasting so much water. She scrambled to shut the water off and turned apologetically towards the person behind her.

Bunnie Rabbot looked on at Amy with a concerned raised brow over sharp green eyes, one mechanical hand resting on her hip and the other holding her bucket. One mechanical foot tapped methodically against the silence before she pointed to Amy with her good arm. But before she could say anything, Amy gave a little chuckle,

"Hey... Bunnie!" Amy smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, I got a bit distracted."

"Y'all right, there Rosie Cheeks? It's awful early in the morning for you to be up. You sleep alright?"

Amy stood aside to let Bunnie get her water before shaking her hand in a 'so-so' motion, "Could have been better. I... I drew my cards today"

Again, Bunnie raised her brow, "Drew your cards? That a Station Square sayin'?"

Amy shot her a deadpan look, "My tarot cards? The ones I used to find Sonic? The ones that told me to move to Station Square?"

"Right, right. Sorry Rosie-Cheeks, I forgot," Bunnie shut off the water and gave her own sheepish look, "My stahs, I've been runnin' mahself ragged out here. 'Tween helping Sugah 'Twan with the soup kitchen and the main construction site I've been getting pulled in all sorts a ways..."

She giggled but then blanched at her joke, "Don't read too far into that, I shouldn'ta said that..."

Amy rolled her eyes- at twelve years old, she was way too used to hearing the older crowd telling her what she should or shouldn't hear, "Sure... anyway... have you heard anything about where Sonic is? I need to talk to him about what I saw."

Bunnie winced with a small sympathetic hiss, "Ah'm sorry, hun, but Sugah Hog left to go chase a rumor about Doctor Eggman. He left a while ago for Oil Ocean Zone just a few minutes ago..."

Amy's cheeks puffed out and her hands found her hips, "UGH, SERIOUSLY!? He didn't even say goodbye?!"

Bunnie sighed, "Ah'm sure if you called him he'd answer. Or you could talk to Sally..."

Amy's arms crossed and she scoffed, "Please, he never answers his calls. And Sally's been too busy rubbing elbows with the President. Rotor and NICOLE don't believe in my 'mumbo jumbo' and Tails has been loosing it over his stupid project..."

"Now, Amy," Bunnie chided while picking up her bucket and pointing at Amy in a scolding manner, "He helped save the city from Doctor Eggman, too, you know. He deserves a rest..."

"He isn't resting though!" Amy cried, "And I helped save the city too!"

"Of course you did, Rosie-Cheeks. Takin' down that Zero fella really took a lot outta you... but, we're all doing our part," Bunnie chided dismissively, "Look... I get that you had a bad dream..."

"Vision."

"Yea... that," Bunnie took a deep breath, "If it's that important to you I can listen for a bit. I don't need to check into the kitchens for a while..."

Amy stared her down in frustration before she sighed, "Yea... okay... So you know how Tarot readings usually include a past, present, and future card?"

"Can't say I do, but I believe you!"

"Okay... Anyway, the past card had me in space and... I think it was another Death Egg."

Bunnie gasped, "You don't say..."

Amy nodded, "So at first I thought Eggman was hiding in space, but that's in the past. So the present one had me in a jungle and I dropped into a cave with really creepy red writing on the walls and I thought maybe that's where Eggman is hiding."

"Right, okay..."

"But the last card, the future card, didn't have anything to do with Eggman at all!" Amy ranted, "It was a black hedgehog... I think Eggman's going to use him for something really bad..."

"Oh, really? Who was the hedgehog?"

Amy shrugged, "I don't know. I've never seen a hedgehog with red tiger stripes in their quills like that, and the way his quills bent is like I've never seen before... and his eyes... he looked so angry and sad..."

Now Bunnie gave a knowing smile, "Well I'll be, I never thought it'd happen!"

Amy shot her a confused look, "What?"

"I didn't think you'd get over Sonic so quickly, Rosie-Cheeks!"

Amy's eyes widened, "Weren't you listening? This isn't about him!"

Bunnie rolled her eyes, "Sure it isn't. Look, hun, I don't think it's about Eggman. AH think, yer getting a lil crush on someone else and you're feel'n guilty 'bout leaving Sonic behind..."

"But I'm not..."

"And y'all shouldn't!" Bunnie put her bucket down and grabbed Amy by the shoulders gently, "Yer growing up now and that comes with a lot-ah complicated feelings. It's okay ta look a lil closer and see what happens! Don't ya feel bad about chasin' yer happiness Rosie-Cheeks! Yer still so young. Don' be afraid ta go chat up your lil friend when you see him 'round the camp again. I'm sure he'd really like a nice chat with a cute lil lady such as yerself!"

"But I haven't even... I don't have any..." Amy, enraged, stumbled over her words, "You're not even listening to me!"

"Aw, Ah'm sorry I couldn't help you more sweetheart," Bunnie said glumly before gasping, "Oh, I gotta go! Sugah 'Twan's waitin' on me and I still haven't gotten myself presentable yet!"

Amy huffed and sputtered as Bunnie waved goodbye and called out, "Go talk to Sally-girl if you need more help! She'll help y'all with your new boyfriend!."

Amy shook with frustration and her cheeks burned red-hot. She gave a growling shriek and kicked her bucket of water over. Too late, she realized she would have to wait in a now much longer line for water to brush her teeth and wash her hands. As she grumbled under her breath over not being taken seriously, again, she resigned herself to a long drive to Central City and a meeting with one Princess Sally Acorn.

White House-Central City, United Federation

10:16

Amy's mood had not gotten any better after her journey to Central City. Not that she was surprised, she'd had to walk the entire way to the other city because the buses to the other cities wouldn't let her on without permission from her mommy.

Amy growled in her seat in the waiting room of the White House, practically grinding her teeth down to the root. While she'd only been there a grand total of ten minutes, each moment seemed to tick by at a snail's pace and she was left consumed in such an angry aura that no one wanted to be anywhere near her.

"I swear, if Sally keeps me waiting just one second more, this whole house is going to be nothing but rubble when I'm done with it!"

"Miss?"

Amy's eyes shot the older human man, who dared to interrupt her incensed thoughts, with such a withering look she made the rest of his group flinch in fear. She was both angered and relieved to see the older gentleman was entirely unphased by this and even seemed mildly amused by her pouting.

Amy took a deep breath to reign in her temper, but her voice still came out curtly, "Yea, what do you want?"

The man raised one brow and replied, "I was hoping to ask you the same question. Are you lost?"

Amy's pout deepened but rather than give into her rising rage, she smoothed out her dress and held her nose up at him with an air of importance, "I'm waiting to see Princess Sally Acorn. I have important information about Dr. Eggman's whereabouts that I need to share with her."

Amy raised her eyes smugly to him, only to see that man's eyes widen only ever so slightly. She was even more infuriated when he folded his hands behind his back and leveled her with a condescending look, "Oh? That's odd. We've just gotten very reliable intel on his location. I imagine you've done your own well-founded research to come to your conclusions?"

Amy's cheeks puffed out. To be honest, she didn't have a reliable source and all she really had to go on was a jungle...

But her heart never steered her wrong- she knew she had to talk to Sally as soon as she could, "Call it a woman's intuition. I need to talk to her. Tell her it's Amy Rose."

His brows crinkled slightly and Amy was struck by the man's eyes. She'd never seen eyes that were different colors- one green, one brown. Something stirred in her heart and told her to be kinder to him. She took in his clothes- a deep green, almost black military jacket with matching slacks and the shiniest black shoes Amy had ever seen. Two stripes over his left breast pocket and the numerous medals put him high in the chain of command, although Amy had no clue where exactly. He was conspicuously missing a name tag on his uniform- a bit annoying but then she could always ask.

Finally the man offered a kind smile, "I recognize you now- you were with the princess upon her arrival a few months ago. I'm on my way to a meeting with her and the President. I'm sure we can spare a few moments for you two to... have a little chat before our meeting..."

If looks could kill, the old man would have keeled over from the terrifying glare she shot his way. He had turned and began to walk away by the time she took a few deep breaths and began to follow him. Slowly but surely, she soothed her irritation as they briskly strolled through the winding corridors of the mansion. Through it all, a persistent feeling thumped in her chest- a sort of deja vu that refused to let her go. Finally she turned to the old man, "I'm... sorry, I never got your name."

"Lieutenant Commander Towers," The man said with a restrained smile, "I'm with the G.U.N."

"...The...?"

"The Guardian Unit of Nations," he answered, "We oversee the defense of the United Federation against her enemies."

Amy frowned in confusion- the feeling of deja vu was just getting stronger, "...Did you... fight in the Great War at all? I feel like I know you from somewhere..."

The man stopped in his tracks and eyed her with concern, "Did you?"

Amy shook her head, "I was only three when Eggman took over. My parents did. Sorry, I thought I'd maybe seen you or your name in one of the old history books. It's starting to bug me, actually."

The man sized her up and Amy couldn't help but straighten her back and face him head on. For all that he'd made a poor impression, Amy still wanted to measure up. Finally, he offered a sad smile and a nod, "We're almost there, right this way."

He moved, and Amy was immediately gripped by tunnel vision. Her eyes honed in on a map of what she presumed to be the entirety of the United Federation from the Western shores of Soleanna to the Eastern most tip of Chun-An up to Holoska and down all the way to the most Southern edge of Mazuri. Amy scrambled to get a closer look at the map and zone in immediately on a tiny spot of an island almost 100 miles off the coast of the Mystic Ruins. Amy was just taking in the latitude and longitude of the island when the man came up ever so silently behind her, "Ms. Rose? Something the matter?"

Amy pointed to the island immediately, "Does this island have a jungle on it?"

The man frowned in confusion before deciding to humor her. His face quickly hardened then smoothed over when he had a moment to realize what island she was talking about. Despite his brief unrest, his voice was smooth and seemingly unconcerned, "I couldn't say- I've never been."

Amy huffed then gave a small determined grin, "It's off the coast of the Mystic Ruins... it has to."

The man shrugged, "I believe you. Now, if you'll follow me, I believe you have important information to share?"

Amy pouted and folded her arms over her chest, "Yea, yea, I'm coming, Abe..."

Now the man froze completely and halted Amy with a look that was both highly suspicious and entirely ill at ease, "What did you just call me?"

Before Amy could answer, someone called from around the corner, "Lieutenant Commander! There you are!"

They both turned to see a broad, stout man with an impressive beard in a similar military outfit to Towers. He clapped the tall, lanky Towers on the back and started to guide him away, "Abraham, you won't believe the progress the young princess has made in her little country, and so close to enemy lines! My dear, Knothole village has been in very impressive hands!"

"Thank you, Commander Thunderstrike," Amy heard the smooth, but very tired tones of Sally's voice and her heart lifted in relief, "That is very high praise coming from..."

She turned the corner and her eyes widened in surprise, "Amy! What are you doing here?"

If Amy had been the type to look before she leapt, she would have seen Sally was in no position to entertain any surprises. The princess looked tired, her hair, while not technically out of place, was drooping. It was clear to almost everyone that Sally had been in the middle of meetings with barely a chance to change clothes before the next stage of plans. All for the sake of having a mutually beneficial relationship with the humans that the mobians hadn't seen in literal centuries. It was clear that such lofty goals bore a heavy price. As determined as Princess Sally was, she was at the edge of her good graces.

It was a shame Amy caught none of this. She pointed immediately to the map, "I know where Eggman's hiding!"

Sally frowned in confusion while Amy lunged towards her and grabbed Sally's hand. The Commander and Towers looked on as Amy dragged Sally to the map.

"Oh? Do you, young lady?" Now the Commander turned his amused gaze to Sally, "Another savant in your entourage? Wonders never cease with you young critters, isn't that right Towers?"

Towers only gave an uneasy nod as Amy pointed to the island she'd been so fixated on moments before.

"There! Right there! He's on that island!"

There was a pause just before Sally gently massaged her temples and the Commander began to roar with laughter, "Oh, there's a good one. Trust me, my dear, no one is on that island."

"I know Eggman is!" Amy retorted, "Or at the very least he plans on being there soon!"

Towers' frowned down his nose at her, "And your sources?"

"None," Sally groaned, "Amy, please. We don't have time for this. We're in the middle of planning something. Go back to Station Square. We have everything under control here."

"Sally, please, you have to believe me! Something is going on on that island and we have to send Sonic there to check it out!"

"No, we don't," Sally countered, "We know where Eggman is and he's not on some desert island-"

"Jungle island."

"-WHATEVER island in the middle of nowhere!"

"Then let me go and check it out!" Amy begged, "Please, I know I can handle it, and I can at least see what's going on!"

"Absolutely not!" The Commander thundered, "Your Highness, I can allow some modicum of freedom within the country but..."

The Commander began to stumble over his words as he realized he couldn't very well explain how he knew Eggman wasn't there in the first place. In answer to his prayers, Towers took a step forward and offered, "This is within our sphere of influence and if Ms. Rose's information is even remotely legitimate, it's worth at least a cursory investigation. Allow us to look into this on our own while we work together on our separate venture to bring Dr. Eggman to justice."

Sally sighed, "Thank you, Lieutenant Commander. I appreciate your diligence and kindness in this matter. I suggest we consider this settled."

She shot Amy a look that made the pink hedgehog's blood run hot with embarrassment, "You don't believe me, do you?"

Now Sally's eyes flashed with anger and she grabbed Amy's arm roughly in turn.

"Excuse us for a moment gentleman, I'll return for the second meeting shortly," the princess said hurriedly as she dragged Amy around the corner into a room.

The room was filled with a series of maps and blueprints on it. The room had only two others in it, another tall man that Amy recognized as the President of the United Federation, and a white bat, with bright teal eyes that looked on in the barest hint of interest. Sally let go of Amy just long enough to grab a small pile of papers and slam them in front of her. Amy looked down, her heart frozen in shock as Sally revealed the pictures of a clearly reactivated Eggman base in the middle of Oil Ocean zone near Shamar. As Amy's hands gently hovered over the pictures, at one point even hovering over one of Eggman himself, Sally spoke to her in low but harsh tones.

"I understand that you want to be a Freedom Fighter. I admit we've given Tails a lot more leniency and responsibility that we've given you. And I promise once this is over we will be taking your training much more seriously than we have in the past-"

"I don't need training, I need you to listen to me!" Amy growled, "There's a boy who needs our help! A black hedgehog with red eyes!"

Sally continued unimpeded, "You're being incredibly childish and nearsighted if you really think you're the only one doing anything about all of this."

"Eggman has to be tricking you! Just let me go with them to the island and I can..."

Sally's fist clenched and she barely stopped herself from slamming it on the table. She took several deep breaths behind clasped hands before she tried again, "I believe you have visions. I believe you have insight into things that we don't. But this is hard evidence that anyone can see while yours are just vague apparitions that we can't analyze the way we can with these. There are only so many resources we can spare and frankly- I can't focus on some unknown black hedgehog, and Eggman, and rebuilding at the same time. So please… just..."

Now Sally drew close and her voice was now a harsh whisper, "Go back to Station Square. Stop throwing a tantrum and help where you're needed."

Amy stared into the cold, hard blue eyes of the princess, and she felt tears begin to burn at the corners of her eyes as she realized that once again Sally insisted on treating her like a small child. Sally put her hand on Amy's back and opened the door to the room, and with a gentle push, ushered the young girl from the room. Mortified, she saw the commanders had been right behind them, faces pale but unmoving. Amy only started down the hall when the door was closed softly behind her and she was left alone and with a pounding sense of anger and determination.

Back inside the room, Sally took several more deep breaths before she addressed the President directly, "Forgive me, sir. That was one of our trainees. She's... very excited to officially join our ranks."

As the President waved off her apologies, Sally failed to notice the stoic, almost fearful silence between the two commanders of the G.U.N and the bright, interested look of the President's mobian guest.

Mystic Ruins-Tails' workshop

15:22

Tails was in the middle of the most peaceful sleep of his life. For days before this, he'd stayed up late into the wee hours of the night- tinkering with the chaos emerald he'd been awarded for his part in saving Station Square. It was all worth it. If everything went as planned, the days of Eggman getting the jump on them or someone using the chaos emeralds for their own nefarious purposes would be a thing for the history books. He dreamed of being awarded the World Genius prize, the parades in his honor, and best of all- the thumbs up and hair ruffles he'd get from Sonic. He could practically hear the magic words come out of his mouth, "I'm proud of you, buddy!"

Just as he was about to get the key to the world and a solution to grow four, no, FIVE inches taller- he heard a frantic pounding at the door of his house. He gave a loud shriek as he was pulled from slumber and jumped from his bed. He fell, in a tangle of blankets and tails, to the floor below him. His eyes were so heavy, he could barely keep them open as he wrestled with the fabric prison that kept him from shutting the incessant pounding up. He groaned pitifully as he stumbled his way through his house and towards the door. He opened the door and was immediately blinded by the light of the summer afternoon. Tails adjusted his eyes and found, not Sonic, or a key to the world, or even a tiny emergency. To his dismay, he only found one Amy Rose at his doorstep with a wicked smile on her face and a full backpack behind her.

"Hey, Taaails... whatcha doin'?" She said in a cloying sing-song voice.

Tails glared at her pathetically before rubbing his eyes, "What'dyou wan'?" he whined.

"I need a faaavor~"

"I'm not driving you anywhere and I don't know where Sonic is," Tails quickly ground out while rubbing his poor blood-shot eyes, "Tools are over there, take whatever you want, just let me sleep and don't break anything."

Amy frowned, "You sure? I need to..."

"Please... Amy," he shot her a look that was practically in tears, he was so exhausted, "I... need to sleep. I don't even care if it's the Tornado. Just bring it back when you're done and let me sleep..."

As Tails stumbled into the wall a few times, Amy gently took him by the shoulders and guided him back to his room. Tails whined under his breath but allowed her to tuck him in and tousle his hair gently, "Sleep tight, Tails. And thanks for your help!"

Tails yawned and grumbled something under his breath before snuggling into his pillow with a smile. He was snoring by the time Amy marched back through his kitchen and into the basement area that led to his garage. She turned on the lights and was amazed by the absolute armory this kid had in his hangar. The walls cut deep into the cliff side, using the natural formation of the cliff to provide protection against the elements. Cables and rebar laced the walls from the ceiling all the way down to the water and they were lined with tables laden with gadgets, and experiments. The water, at high tide at that moment, was snaked purposefully around the machines like a moat. When she looked up to the ceiling, she saw the outlines of trapdoors that would open and lead up to the runway just outside his house. She ooh'd and aww'd over the planes for a moment before she stopped and frowned.

"These are great... but I don't know how to fly." She grumbled a little bitterly. She hadn't asked for flight training, but then Tails' hadn't either, if she remembered correctly. The empty promises of the princess, the Freedom Fighters, and even Sonic to teach her the basics mocked her at the edges of her mind.

"Why does Tails get to learn all the cool stuff? He gets to go on missions, be involved in planning… but I'm the one too young for that?" She thought, a little jealousy bubbling to the surface.

Amy shook out those miserable thoughts. Now wasn't the time to wallow in self pity or petty jealousy. She had a mission to complete. Someone had to look out for that haunted boy from her vision, and if everyone refused to help, she'd do it herself.

"Just like Birdy, and his family," she decided with a resigned nod.

She huffed in frustration but eyed the ATVs and the two cars Tails built and her frown deepened, "Those won't work..."

Her eyes feel on a three half-built boards on display over his workstation that sent her foot tapping in frustration, "I could boogie board my way there, I guess, but once I get to the island I'll be too tired to spy on Eggman!"

She pursed her lips and looked around the garage some more before she leaned against one of the cars. To her horror, the car actually started to slide. Before she could stop it, she had fallen over and the car had slipped and crashed into the moat of water around its display. She scrambled to try and get the thing back out of the water. As she pulled it back she realized that rather than sinking, the large car had started to float?

Upon closer inspection, she realized the car had a point in the front with a white bottom and bright golden yellow stripes on its sides. The seats were shaped like regular seats in a car, but the bottoms were now exposed so they could swivel and the floor was replaced with a hard wood deck. The clear black writing on the side declared this vessel to be dubbed, "The ROS Tsunami MKII". There was a lot of room to move about the cabin turned deck and Amy's smile grew brighter. She clapped and squealed with glee as she threw her bag inside and climbed aboard.

"I can't fly. But I can drive!" she crowed, "A boat can't be much different than a car! How bad could it be?"

She looked over the console and studied the buttons before her eyes fell on something that made her gasp, "A chaos emerald?"

And there it was, in all its golden yellow glory, sitting in the center console under a glass display dome that secured it into the boat. She smiled at this, "Great! No need to worry about running out of fuel! Now... where's the... AH HA!"

Amy found the button that displayed the map and fumbled through putting in the coordinates that she remembered from the map. She gave a victorious whoop as the engine roared to life and jerked towards the exit of the workshop. Her whoop turned to shrieks of fear as she barreled headlong towards a wall of rock. Just before she hit the solid wall she lunged towards the bow and summoned her hammer. She swung against the wall with all her might, opening a gaping gash that led out to the ocean. The boat sped out over the waves, leaving Amy to melt in a relieved puddle on the bow. She crawled back gingerly towards the captain's chair and practically slid into it. She wiped her brow and watched the console as it revealed the map to her destination.

"Okay... just a slight bump in the road," she murmured warily, "I can fix that when I get back. Tails never has to know. I can take some pictures, prove that Eggman is on the island, figure out what that capsule thing is and maybe find that boy stuck in the curse room! Easy as pie..."

Little did she know that pie is just... an absolute bitch and a half to make.

[gothgirlmahi]

All That’s Best Chapter Five

Dark!Steve x Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: non con, dub con

Steve woke with a start, searching his surroundings. He was laid on his back, tied down to a metal examination table. Something was lodged in the side of his neck but he couldn’t maneuver to see what it was. A dim light flickered above him and from what he could see there wasn’t anything or anyone else in the room but him. The room was a little box, probably not bigger than fifteen feet in either direction with a door in front of him.

HYDRA. It had to be HYDRA. He had enemies but no one else had incentive or means to actually kidnap him from his home. The fact that he was living in the middle of nowhere surely didn’t help. He had to wonder how they bypassed his security system. There were sensors nearby the house to let him know when people approached and as far as he knew, none of them had gone off. Whatever they were doing, he was sure they were up to no good.

His thoughts immediately jumped to you. You had been in the house with him, looking terrified as he left you in the bathroom. That was all he remembered before he was out. He hoped you were okay. His entire intent had been to protect you and now you were possibly in danger because he was reckless. Because he got too comfortable. It had been stupid to think he could get his happily ever after. Wishful thinking on his part.

A clicking noise came from beyond the door. Mechanical shifting and grinding of metal. The door was opening. He was prepared for any number of scenarios. For a HYDRA agent to come in and demand information from him, torture, someone attempting to murder him...but he couldn’t have been prepared for what he saw.

In walked his girl, looking healthier than ever, holding his shield and a little remote in your hand with a black bag hanging off your shoulder. You had a bounce in your step and a happy little smile on your face. You struck a pose with his shield and laughed.

“This thing is sturdy, but it’s kind of weird how bad guys never aim at your legs.”

“Where am I?” he demanded.

“Disney World. Now say ‘ah.’” You set down his shield dug through your bag until you pulled out a thermometer. He wouldn’t open his mouth when you came close so you put it away.

“I just needed to check something.”

“Who are you?”

“I don’t know how I can make it more clear without tattooing HYDRA on my forehead. Welcome to the organization.”

Steve had shadowed you for weeks. Knew your schedule, what you liked, where you went and who you talked to. This didn’t make sense. You couldn’t have been a HYDRA agent because, for all intents and purposes, there was no HYDRA. At least not one cohesive group anymore. The Avengers made sure of that.

Furthermore, if you were a HYDRA agent at the time he met you, why were you lying half dead in one of their bases, tied to a chair? Maybe they had broken into the house and convinced you to do this. Convinced you to turn against him. He supposed you would have been easy to turn against him, considering recent events. But did you hate him enough to pledge allegiance to HYDRA? There were a million questions swirling in his mind.

“I’m not joining you.” You had welcomed him to the organization. Whether it was a petty jab or a genuine offer, he didn’t care.

You didn’t say anything, just dug around in your bag again. He heard the noise of metal sliding against something and saw you pulling out a knife. You made no move to use it and set it on the table next to him. You hardly looked at him as you spoke.

“You like rules, right? When I’m talking, that means you’re not. Rule 2, you try to escape, you get punished and I really don’t think you want me to be the one to punish you. Rule 3, you do what I tell you when I tell you. Do you understand?”

Steve didn’t say anything. His only response was a defiant glare in your direction. You nodded, taking his silence as an answer.

“Try again.” You hit a button on a remote and it sent Steve’s body into uncontrollable spasms. He was crying out in pain as the piece lodged in his neck made him seize. You hit it again and it stopped.

“Either you understand or I’m electrocuting you until you piss yourself or pass out. Your choice.”

“When I get out of here, you cunt—“

You hit the button again and this time let it go until he screamed and begged for you to stop. At least a minute or so. He swore he would follow the rules. You let it go a bit longer just to indulge yourself. The tears of pain welling in his eyes were all you needed and you stopped with a big smile.

“I’ll follow the rules.” His voice was low and hoarse from screaming and you smiled, very content with your work.

“Neat,” was all you said before picking up your knife, leaving and closing the door behind you. Steve heard some mechanical locking and some lights flashing on the other side.

He was beyond angry with you. After all he had done to protect you and care for you, here you were working for the enemy. He couldn’t even guess at what your intent was. Left alone with his thoughts, he toyed with the idea that this all could have been an elaborate set up. Did HYDRA know he would get attached to you? No, they couldn’t have possibly planned such a thing out.

Even if it was a set up to get to him, wouldn’t you have been more receptive to him? Though, he supposed he didn’t give you much of a chance before taking you from your home. He was suddenly reminded of the look on your face when you said you thought he was a better person than you.

He didn’t know why he did that to you. Any of it. Hindsight is 20/20 but he had to have known it would have blown up in his face. Life didn’t usually work out in his favor. Now he was here tied down at your mercy and you were the one with rules, wielding a knife and with very legitimate grievances against him.

No amount of analysis was making this make sense. He couldn’t reconcile you being tied up and nearly dead in a HYDRA base with you actually being a member. He also couldn’t figure out how, if you were a member, how you had correspondence with them without him noticing or, the alternative, why you weren’t having correspondence with them at all. How did they even know where to find you? Had they been specifically looking for you, or where they looking for him?

You came back later. Steve could assume an hour or so had passed. You walked through the door and it slid closed behind you.

Frustration was plain on your face.

“Contrary to what you may believe, I gather no schadenfreude from this, but I’m starting to think things happened like this for a reason,” you explained, pacing in front of the door.

“And that reason was?”

“You tell me, Steve. Why did you kidnap me?” 

“I wanted to protect you.”

You smiled at that, holding back a laugh like an inside joke with yourself. In the dim light of the room, your eyes met.

“And so you will.”

You approached the table he was on, staring him over once. You climbed on the table and straddled him, settling yourself directly on his crotch.

Steve jerked against the heat of your core against him. Your hips slid against his, slowly grinding. The two of you never broke eye contact.

Steve wished he could have his hands on your hips, guiding you against him. You were gorgeous, even in the dim lights of this awful room. Eyes still sparkling and filling him with hope. Your bodies were in sync. His hard length caressed your soaking core through the layers of clothing you all wore. Soft breaths left both of you as you ground against him. A perfect and natural rhythm until you pulled away suddenly.

Before Steve could utter any complaint, you were pulling off your pants and your underwear before sliding his own down to reveal his cock. Your hand wrapped around it, squeezing lightly and jerking him off. He threw his hand back on the table, pushing himself up into your hand as best as he could with the restraints holding him down. Your eyes were hazy and lust filled as you stared down at him.

You stopped again and adjusted so you could slide down onto him. The moan that left your throat had him wild for you. Once he was completely sheathed in you, you both cried out. He bucked his hips up and you whimpered before taking up your own rhythm against him.

The look of you on top of him was something else. A great view he couldn’t have expected in this situation. Although the whole thing was less than ideal, this had to be a perk. Another odd behavior of yours that didn’t fit in with the rest of the information he knew. But he couldn’t focus on your motives right now. He could only focus on how tight you were around him. Memorizing the look of delight on your face while you rode him.

“Oh, fuck, Steve.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Shut up—fuck!”

He was jerking his hips up into you at a violent pace. One of your hands slid down to your clit, rubbing against yourself fiercely.

“I hate you, I hate you so fucking much,” you whined. Steve smirked.

“You look like you’re enjoying riding my dick.”

You slapped him as hard as you could with your free hand. His head jerked back against the table but it seemed to make him all the more determined to fuck you harder. After all, that was the extent of what he could do in his current position. It was sad. He was so starved for your touch that even that felt good. Any time you chose to touch him just set his body alight.

You were close to orgasm, legs shaking and your body losing its rhythm above him. It was no matter because he was steadily pushing into from below. Slamming into that spot you needed him most while your clit was stimulated from your own touch.

He was panting, eyes rolling back as you bounced on top of him. He was close, too. A giggle left your throat.

“Are you gonna come for me? You wanna come in my pussy?”

Just your words were enough to send him over the edge. He groaned, releasing inside you and trying to pump himself deeper. You rubbed your clit quickly, getting off on how good he looked below you. Powerless. Submissive. Completely yours to control.

You came, squeezing around his oversensitive cock and moaning his name. By the time you climbed off of him, Steve’s eyes were closed and his body was relaxed. You stood near his face and caressed his cheek.

“Good boy.”

.....

Taglist: @princessdancingonthesunshine @sllooney @americasass81 @shippers-heart @villanellevi @boinkybornes @imrachellester @xoxabs88xox @momc95

Masterlist // Chapter Six

[wordslikeskyscrapers-blog]

Nildur

From Narrow Lands Saga, Book One: Light’s Splendour

Nildur cursed all the deities they could think of, all at once.  At this point they didn't really care what happened to them for blaspheming an entire pantheon, and then some.  They were far beyond giving a single shite about any of this really – the kingdom, the treasure, the company – all of them could go straight to any one of the nine hells as far as they cared. They would likely be better off actually, come to think of it.  Certainly it would be a good deal warmer.   "Maybe I will go there next" they thought, "Straight to Malkor.  I will march right up to her royal heinous queen of all that is unspeakable and horny and let her smack my tiny bony ass in exchange for some of that brimstone and fire" Their teeth chattered in the cold icy depths as they ruminated. "Provided I still have feet to march on after this..."

They trudged methodically through the dark, their breath harried, labored and practically turning to ice in thier mouth as they exhaled.  The straps of their backpack had long been busily sawing off their arms with every step, accompanied by the slap of their scabbarded knife on their hip, the leather chaffing their side through their shift.  As they considered their poor condition a moment longer then they likely should have, they slipped, and the jangling and din of their misstep echoed menacingly in the darkness.  Normally the dark didn't bother them but this abyssal darkness was something else.  In their line of work, spelunking in dungeons or relieving the rich of their trinkets in the deep of night, Nildur could rely on the gifts of the ancestors, in this case the ability to see in darkness, to augment their skills and give them an edge in this business. The trick however is that there had to be some light; starlight, moonlight, the reflecting light of a torch a mile down an underground corridor.  In this, this utter darkness,  it was of no use.  No amount of additional photoreceptors in their overly large eyes could help in a realm completely devoid of light.  So, using a frost burned hand along the wall to guide them, they carefully placed one foot in front of the other so as not to slip and lose the precious ground they had covered.  There was no promise that there was sanctuary at the end of this climb, no portend of salvation, no real idea at all where they were going.  There was a vague incline which certainly seemed a better idea than the depths of the dungeons they had found themselves fleeing from.  And up, they hoped, meant out.   Said incline had already caused them to fall multiple times, sliding back a ways into the darker dark of before.  Incline it was however, and that meant up.  Each time they fell, there was a brief shadow that crossed their mind as pain wracked them from tiny feet to the tips of their pointed ears, to just lie still and let the cold take them.  If their companions were still alive, or still in possession of all their limbs, they had no idea, no inkling of this bitter cold that lead an onslaught over their heads. The frost giants they had encountered should have been the first clue they were definitely not in Kandids anymore.  

An eternity passed.  One tiny foot.  Then the other.  A slip.  The creaking of frozen leather pants and straps threatening to seize completely.  Steadied with cold, dead, frost bitten hands. Then one foot.  Every step was agony.  Each small piece of progress a sacrifice. Nildur thought perhaps they had already walked all the way to Hell, and this was thier torturous reward.  Wait... ...was it getting lighter?  

They shook their head to clear the perceived fog, a sodden and frozen pony tail of brown hair swaying heavily behind their head.  No, that was actual fog.  Just at the edge of the darkness, Nildur thought they saw a glint off the frost covered wall.  For the first time, they realized that the corridor they had been ascending also had a spiraling curve, and somehow this sparked an irrational sense of hope.  They chose to believe that this was by someone's design, that a spiraling corridor that ascended meant there was a specific destination, an intent to rise from the depths. Their pace quickened with their heart rate, as they leaned forward, propelling themselves by sheer will, in hope their torturous journey was near its end.  

The passageway continued to brighten as it carried them ever up.  The fog they had thought a trick of their icy psychosis was in fact sublimation as the frost covered walls became increasingly free from the icy fingers of winter once exposed to the light of some distant reflected sun.  Their feet's purchase became more sure, allowing them to take bigger steps without fear of falling.  The light swelled, searing their eyes as they blinked back tears.  Nildur let the wall go, crossing their arm over their brow, shielding their eyes from the supernova blooming with every foot fall. Suddenly, vengefully, the cavernous dark gave way to daylight.  With their last step past the threshold of the mountain passage, they were inundated by a chill wind. They gasped.  All was light and cold.  It took a moment for their eyes to adjust, a bit of overload from the prolonged utter darkness in the depths of the mountain.  Slowly their eyesight cleared.  A grand mountain vista greeted them, blanketed in snow and ice as far as they could see.  Jagged peaks raked the sky, pointed and broken like the bony corpse of some great wurm.  Far in the distance, perhaps a score of leagues or more, a single great peak rose into the sky, it's top obscurred by clouds.  Some lighting broke in the distance, followed by the inevitable boom of thunder, the delay signalling it was still a ways off, but the warning was clear.  Things were about to get much worse.   Some very little scrub and brushes clung desperately to the sides, smashed on all sides by buffeting winds.  Desperately they hung on to the side of the mountain, some still with leaves, which if they'd thought about it would be very odd indeed at this altitude, but for the moment the only idea that came to Nildur was that it would make a great source of fuel.  They grabbed a handful nearest the ground and yanked, their numb fingers completely devoid of feeling.  They were certain they still had flint and steel in the bottom of their backpack. If they could get back to the turn in the corridor right before the light slapped them, then the approaching storm would likely by weatherable.

They moved back into the maw of the corridor's entrance.   They took one, maybe two steps and were immediately greeted by cold stone.  'Wait... ...what?' They took a step back out onto the ledge to check for alternate openings.  This crack in the mountain was the only one.  The rest of the mountain face stretched up and to either side.  The platform they were on was perhaps only 15 feet wide before it dove off into the canyon beneath them.  They had heard no scrapping, no machinery, no rock sliding or creaking.  Just the wind, the endless wind.   They clutched their precious fuel under one arm and reached out both hands as they retraced their steps and tried to enter the corridor once more.  Their cold numb fingers were greeted almost immediately with the unmistakable and unyielding mountain .  They frantically dug around the mountain face, practically unprotected from the wind by the tiny alcove that remained.  Desperate, they clawed at the wall, searching for any edge, any discernable crevasse or seam, but it was no use.  After another minute of scrabbling their fingers across the mountainside, Nildur took a step back, their nails broken, their fingers bloodied, defeated.      

The passageway back into the mountain was gone.  

[juju-on-that-yeet]

Catch

Whumptober 2020 Day 1: Let’s Hang Out Sometime Prompt: Waking Up Restrained

Summary: MarkBop wakes to find himself kidnapped, and soon realizes he's only there as bait for someone else.

Warnings: Violence, non-main character death (one offscreen, one onscreen but non-graphic)

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober Series)

Enjoy!

~

A moment ago, MarkBop was taking a walk in the city, not far from Ego Inc. Now, he’s groggily waking up in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by an unfamiliar pair of people, tied to a chair and gagged. He tries to scream, but the gag smothers the sound. His side stings like it’s been burned, his head aches. He doesn’t recognize either person in front of him; one a severe-looking man and one a short and prim woman, both dressed like scientists, complete with lab coats. They stare at him without emotion in the face of Bop’s growing panic.

“Good, you’re awake,” says the man. “Perhaps my associate and I can ask some questions while we’re waiting for your friend to arrive.”

Friend? It’s then that Bop notices a table beyond the two people, where an object is vibrating loudly. Bop recognizes the sound of his phone, buzzing as someone tries to contact him. Probably Bing, Bop guesses. Are these people trying to get Bing? Also on the table is a folder, a laptop, and a couple harsh-looking tasers. One is a simple stun gun, the other a high-tech, futuristic-looking device. Bop is certain that the pair used the stun gun on him, for the fancier taser looks as though it would’ve stopped his heart in an instant.

A taser like that could cause Bing serious damage.

“I’ll take your gag out if you agree not to scream,” says the man. “If you do scream, we’ll very easily make you quiet again.”

Bop doesn’t doubt them. He nods numbly. His mind is swimming, not just from his headache. He hardly knows what’s going on, nearly too overwhelmed to think. The gag is removed from his mouth and he whimpers.

“What–” he gasps, “Why, what–”

“How much do you know about the androids?” the man asks.

“A bit too on the nose, don’t you think?” pipes up the woman, speaking for the first time. She’s moved to the laptop, and is looking at the screen as she talks. “This is a top-secret mission, after all.”

“It won’t matter what he knows,” the man replies, “It’s not as if we’ll leave witnesses.”

Oh, that’s not a good sign. Bop whimpers again and starts to cry.

“Answer the question,” the man says, unmoved. He takes out a clipboard from his lab coat. “Or you’ll be re-gagged or worse.”

“I-I don’t know,” Bop sobs, “They, I mean, they’re stronger and faster than people, and B–Bing is, um, he h-has malfunctions sometimes b-but he’s still really strong–”

“Confirms our haunch,” the man hums to himself, writing on his clipboard. “Anything else? Anything more specific?”

Bop realizes it’d be a bad idea to say anything more. He continues to cry, but shakes his head. The man frowns.

“Did I not just tell you–”

“Let it go,” interrupts the woman, “The target’s incoming. I’m getting into position.” She grabs the mean-looking taser off the table and walks away, leaving the room through a side door.

“Who’s the target??” Bop cries, even though he already knows.

“You’ll see,” the man says. He quickly re-gags Bop, and Bop is too overwhelmed to try struggling. He trembles in his chair, waiting and hoping.

He hears a door open from somewhere a distance behind him. Bop doesn’t know what the space behind himself looks like, but he can tell by how the sound is muffled that there’s still one more door between him and Bing. He hears a hair-raising crackle of electricity, a bang, a thud, a series of cracks, and a pop. Each sound makes him cringe. It’s hard to breathe through the gag, through his sobs. The slam of a door makes him jump, and he looks over his shoulder, afraid of what he’ll see.

It’s Bing, unscathed, but angrier than Bop has ever seen him. His eyes are neon orange, so bright they hurt to look at. His hands are clenched in fists. From the hallway he just traversed to get here comes a strange smell, not unlike burnt pork. Despite how relieved he is to see Bing, Bop can’t help but feel a little sick.

“How did you get past the taser??” cries the scientist, finally expressing emotion.

“I’m a fucking android, dude,” Bing snaps, “I heard your accomplice or whatever from a mile away. The taser never even touched me. It got her pretty good, though.” Bing takes a few steps into the room. “The real question is what you wanted me here for in the first place. That giant taser must’ve been for me, right?”

“I’ll never talk,” the scientist says. Bop looks back to him to see him backing away. Bing advances, walking past Bop to confront the scientist.

“You and that woman underestimated me, didn’t you?” Bing asks, intensely angry. “You guys thought I’d be an easy target for whatever the fuck you wanted from me, huh? Your mind’s about to be blown, dickhead.”

The scientist tries to run, but Bing grabs him, seizing him by his shirt color and slamming him against the wall. His head makes a loud smack as it hits the wall and snaps forward after. He’s too dazed to even cry out as Bing reels him back, getting in his face.

“Why did you guys bait me?” Bing asks. Bop can see him shaking with rage. “Why’d you take Bop?”

“No,” is all the scientist says, voice thready and weak. Bop suspects he couldn’t say more if he tried.

Bing yells in frustration and slams him against the wall again. This time, Bop hears a deep cracking as the man’s head hits the wall, and when Bing pulls him back, his body is limp and his head lolls. Bing pauses.

“Aw shit,” he mumbles, “I think I killed him.”

Bop starts sobbing again, thoroughly overwhelmed, and Bing immediately tosses the body aside to rush to him. He pulls the gag out of his mouth and breaks the ropes keeping him in the chair. As soon as he can, Bop throws his arms around Bing’s neck and buries his face in his shoulder. Bing hugs him back tight and begins stroking his hair.

“It’s okay, Bop,” Bing murmurs, “We’re okay, we’re both safe now.”

“They, th-they were gonna hurt you,” Bop sobs, “They were g-gonna hurt me, or kill me, I-I don’t know–”

“Shh, babe, it’s alright. Don’t cry, no one’s gonna hurt us now.” Bing sighs. “I wish you didn’t have to see all that, Bop, I’m sorry. And I wish I’d been able to figure out who they worked for or something before I killed them.”

“Th-There’s a file,” Bop sniffles, “On the t-table, maybe there’s s-something…”

“Oh nice, good eye,” Bing says, encouraged. He kisses Bop gently before helping him up from the chair and striding to the table.

Bing quickly finds the folder Bop mentioned, and opens it up to read as Bop follows more slowly, still regaining his bearings. He leans against Bing as Bing reads over the folder’s contents.

“‘Project Sunset’?” Bing mumbles, reading the first sheet. “What the hell is that?”

“I th-think those people wanted you more than m-me,” Bop offers, “With the taser, they must’ve wanted to…to do something to you.”

“Lemme see…” Bing continues reading. His eyes widen. “Woah, ‘android recovery’…‘observational research’…‘conditioning of first unit in-progress’…‘execute second unit recovery on…’”

“On what?” Bop asks, confused and unnerved.

“Today’s date,” Bing gasps. “Bop, if I’m the second one they wanted, and they already got one, I think…” His face falls. “I think these are the people who took Oliver.”

Bop can’t help but cover his mouth in surprise. Oliver went missing weeks ago, and not even endless searching by the other egos, the other Googles included, have succeeded in finding him. It would take an extremely well-executed plan to make him disappear, but a group of scientists with access to the kind of tech Bop saw in that awful taser could probably do it.

“Who are they?” Bop asks. Bing searches everything over, and grunts in annoyance.

“I can’t tell,” he mutters, “There’s no company names, no corporate logos, no nothing. I can check the pockets of the guys who kidnapped you, but if their docs don’t have company names, their IDs might not have them either. Or they could have fake names.”

“Maybe there’s something on their computer,” Bop suggests, looking over at the laptop, still closed after the female scientists shut it down to confront Bing.

“Good call, babe!” Bing exclaims, kissing Bop again and making him blush. “It’s gotta be encrypted to hell and back, but I bet the Googles can break into it. I’ll take the folder too, those guys’ IDs, the taser too…”

Bing does find an ID on the male scientist, but it’s not conclusive on its own. Still, Bing pockets it and leaves into the hallway. Bop is about to follow when Bing stops him with a raised hand.

“Wait for me a bit, alright?” Bing says. “I mean, you already saw what I did to the guy, and you really don’t wanna see what I did to the girl.”

It’s a little terrifying for Bop, sometimes, to remember how strong Bing is. To remember that Bing is an android with the power to kill in the blink of an eye. Bop’s never felt unsafe around him, and he knows Bing would never hurt him, but it’s scary to know what Bing can do. So Bop only nods and lets Bing go into the hallway alone.

He returns with one more inclusive ID in his pocket and the taser, now turned-off, in one hand. He holds the laptop and folder in the other arm. He turns around, back to Bop, and looks at him over his shoulder.

“Hold onto me and close your eyes,” Bing says, “And I’ll lead you out of here so you don’t have to see…anything.”

Bop only nods, and obeys. He holds onto Bing’s shoulders and shuts his eyes, following Bing’s slow footsteps down the hall. It’s horribly unnerving to hear nothing but both their footsteps on the ground, to smell that awful burnt-pork scent still in the air, and to see nothing at all. Bop knows Bing is walking slowly for his benefit, but he wishes Bing would hurry up so they could get out faster. Finally, he feels Bing stop and hears him open a door. Bop follows him out and feels the sun on his face. When he opens his eyes, they’re outside, and the door to the building – an abandoned warehouse – has shut behind him.

“Hey, we made it!” Bing says, smiling brightly, trying to be encouraging. “C’mon, babe, let’s go home.”

Bop doesn’t have to be told twice.

As he walks alongside Bing, though, he can’t help but keep glancing at the objects in Bing’s arms, and wonder what they’ll lead to.

[sides-of-demigods]

Emile and Remy

EMILE PICANI (20)

Oracle of Delphi

The Oracle of Delphi is a mortal with the sight that Apollo blessed with the gift of prophecy, specifically making them the vessel of the spirit of Delphi.

I know, I know, plenty of problems with that, but we'll get to those later I swear, just wanna get through the basic stuff.

Emile is influenced by the spirit of Delphi, giving him visions and occasionally possessing him to provide prophecies.

The visions can happen in dreams or when awake and are not always helpful. Sometimes they're full-on visions, but often they're symbolic or just short flashes or don't make sense with no context.

So, you know how in the PJO books, Rachel Dare painted her visions? Emile writes them.

And not in an "Oh this is what happened" like he's taking notes, he writes them like a story to get down every detail possible.

As for prophecies, well there's a risk that every time he's asked a question the spirit of Delphi will take control and give an entire freaking prophecy, but usually she only does that when the person actually needs a prophecy.

Sometimes it will come completely unprompted though, he'll just go into Prophecy Mode for like no reason and confuse everyone.

He doesn't do a lot of fighting and prefers to talk his way through things, but he does have a dagger that Roman and Logan helped teach him to use just in case.

Emile has dirty blonde hair, so dark that sometimes it can pass as a really light brown.

His eyes are bright blue, but when he's having a vision or giving a prophecy they'll glow an eerie sickly green color.

As for height, he's just taller than Patton, but comfortable at 5'9" (175 cm).

Besides, his boyfriend is way taller, and he actually quite enjoys the height difference.

Since he doesn't actually train with everyone, he isn't as well built, but he can hold his own.

Sort of.

Now for the question I'm sure you're asking: "Hey, Sara, why the fuck is Emile the Oracle of Delphi. She's supposed to be a woman. Is your head broken?"

Well here's the thing...he was.

That's right y'all, Emile Picani is transgender.

He became the Oracle of Delphi and arrived at camp around 4 years ago when he was sixteen.

It wasn't until a year later that he realized shit...he was a boy.

Cue internal freakout for a MULTITUDE of reasons.

He knew that only a woman was supposed to be the Oracle of Delphi, and without the spirit of Delphi he was just a random mortal who for some reason could see through the mist.

He wouldn't be able to stay at Camp.

He didn't want to do that!

He had friends, and he just loved Camp.

He and Remy had just said "I love you" a few months ago, and he'd already made arrangements with Chiron to take up permanent residence once he graduated high school.

Should he just deal with it? Should he really just risk all that just because he felt a little dysphoric everytime someone called him Amelia?

Thankfully Remy noticed something was up and the two talked all through the night about what to do, names, and things like that.

Technically Remy was supposed to go back to his cabin, but Chiron let him stay.

The next day, during announcements at dinner, Emile went up and announced that he was a boy and that he'd be going by Emile now.

Almost the entire camp cheered.

Remy announced that anyone who had a problem with it would have to deal with him.

Suddenly everyone was clapping.

Apollo showed up a few days later to sort everything out.

Apparently, you were the Oracle of Delphi until death, so Emile got to stay at Camp and everything was perfect.

Back to his powers for a second.

His powers have an effect on his body.

When having a vision, Emile will stop whatever he's doing or saying and just stand there, his eyes glowing.

Afterward, he'd feel lightheaded, dizzy, and dazed, which was where Remy came in.

Usually Emile would stumble a bit and Remy would be there to catch him every single time without fail. He'd take the shorter boy somewhere to sit down for a minute while he recovered and Emile would write down what he saw.

As for prophecies, those were worse.

Emile wouldn't be able to stand so Remy would grab one of the stools they keep at key places around camp just for this purpose and situate him on it.

Emile would seize up and speak in a voice that wasn't his. Green smoke would seem to appear from nowhere and his eyes would glow.

Immediately afterward he'd completely pass out sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for hours.

Remy would immediately scoop him up and carry him to his room in the Big House and stay with him until he woke up.

Fun Fact: Emile is a permanent resident of Camp with a room in the Big House ever since he graduated high school. He is taking online classes for a Degree in Psychology in his free time

REMY DORMIR (19)

Son of Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty

Remy has very very basic charmspeak. He can do very basic commands and can really only give people a push.

But however, he is really good with illusions. Not magic in general like the Hecate kids, just illusions and especially glamors.

In his words, the Mist is his bitch.

Remy actually has two signature weapons, because why not? He never adhered to tradition before so why start now?

The first is a stave/staff that the now Head Counselor of Hecate Camden Foote made for him. Not only does it help him focus his spells and control it more but it gives him an extra reserve to draw from other than himself.

His second is a spear but with the way he uses it it's basically a pointy bo staff.

Literally the only reason it has a spearhead is because you can’t kill monsters with a stick.

The staff is made of aspen wood with a black and silver grip, and the top resembles branches with a bright white light in the middle when Remy is using it.

The spear however is ebony with the usual celestial bronze spearhead and a simple black leather grip. Other than that, it’s not really anything special or extravagant.

Remy is a tall boi, he’s the same height as Logan, which means he’s six feet (182 cm)

His hair is jet black, like “holy crap how is it possible for hair to be that dark” black.

His eyes are gray but somehow they aren’t dull and instead intriguing

Emile is so lucky because his boyfriend is hot as hell

Okay moving on before I forget that I’m a lesbian today

Remy is one of those kids who literally had no idea he was a demigod but once he found out everything in his life suddenly made so much sense.

Like, for instance, the fact that girls were always all over him and people always seemed to want to hang out with him even though they had never met before.

He came to camp for his first summer at 11 years old, so about 8 years ago and the same year Thomas came to camp.

Since then he’s been coming every summer and switched to year-round literally like the second he graduated High School at 17.

No literally, like he changed out of his cap and gown and then drove to camp.

Then all of a sudden he was living there.

As for his family…

His family was stupid rich, and he still had full access to the money as long as he didn't do anything stupid.

He and his dad weren’t estranged and they definitely cared about each other but they just weren’t that close, and Remy was even more distant from his stepdad.

No mortal siblings or friends, but Remy didn’t really need them either.

He and Emile met for the first time when Remy was on a quest. It wasn’t anything major, in fact, it was just him and Thomas hunting down a rogue monster.

The two cornered the thing in an alley and managed to kill it but not before Emile witnessed the whole thing.

And it wasn’t the boys beating up a homeless dude or something, like the Mist should have made Emile see, but he saw everything, from the monster to Remy’s staff.

Remy managed to calm the freaked out mortal and explained the situation as best he could.

The two kept in touch and when it was announced that a search would begin for a new host for the Oracle Remy knew exactly who to call.

The rest was history.

The weird thing for Remy was that he found himself with a crush on Emile, or Amelia at the time, which was beyond confusing because he could have sworn he was gay. But who knew, maybe he was homoflexible.

What he did know was that he REALLY liked Emile. He confessed this soon after Emile took on the spirit of the Oracle and the two started dating

Remy is scary.

When you meet him or talk to him he seems so laid-back and cool and friendly.

But anyone who’s ever seen him fight can tell you that he is NOT someone you should mess with.

The way he moves and fights and even does magic is so fluid and quick it seems effortless.

It’s not just physical though.

Maybe it’s because he’s a child of Aphrodite or maybe it’s just the way he is, but if he wanted to he could easily verbally eviscerate someone.

He has this uncanny ability to be able to tell what your flaws and insecurities and exactly how to exploit them.

And not to mention that he os like the DEFINITION of protective.

Basically everyone is low-key scared of him and they should be.

Fun fact: Thanks to Remy literally always having Starbucks with him, there’s a rumor around camp hat Children of Aphrodite have the ability to summon Starbucks at any time. This obviously isn’t true but none of the Aphrodite kids are denying it. Honestly, half the time the Starbucks isn’t even real, it’s an illusion.

[eviesmyspiritanimal]

A Black Spot in a Sea of White

Summary: Mal, Evie, and Jay suffer a horrible loss. In memory of Cameron Boyce, forever our one and only Carlos de Vil. He will be forever missed. ❤Familial feels and seemingly unending angst with an unexpected happy ending.

  “How is he? Where is he?!” Mal demanded as her, Evie, Jay, and Dude stormed into the medical wing. The woman at the receptionist desk looked up at the trio, completely unimpressed by Mal’s boisterous entrance.

  “Who exactly are you speaking of?”

  “Just the only guy in this whole hospital that is currently seizing himself to death!” Mal screeched.

  “Are you family?” she questioned, bored with the situation.

  It was like a bomb had gone off. Mal immediately felt such anger and frustration that she almost couldn’t answer the woman. After a moment of her mouth moving in unmentionable words, she finally was able to speak.

  “Of course we are his family. Now tell me where he is!” Mal slammed her fist on the desk, her eyes glowing a dangerous shade of green. Dude barked, emphasizing her hit. The woman immediately looked considerably more afraid.

  “The Intensive Care Unit,” she stuttered, much more respectfully than before. The threesome immediately took off.

  Mal’s mind raced, a million regrets floating through her mind. She should have noticed that he seemed sluggish on the field. She should have insisted that he not go to the tournament. She should have known.

  This was Carlos. That boy was her little brother. She needed him. Evie needed him. Jay needed him. He was the light of hope and humor that shone bright in their lives. And now, all because of their inattentiveness, he could lose his life.

  The three of them burst into the room, an air of purpose surrounding them.

  The room was horrifying, sheets separating individual beds. There were frail bodies lying beneath each of those sheets, and she stared at them with wide eyes.

  There was a doctor as well as several nurses surrounding one particular bed. Mal stepped forward carefully and she felt Evie grab her hand gently. Jay rested his hand on Mal’s shoulder that was opposite to him.

  They slowly made the journey to the bed.

  A floorboard squeaked and the doctor turned to look at them. He was a gray-haired man with a mean receding hairline. His eyes were crystalline blue and his skin was pale. Combined with his snowy white coat, he seemed to be devoid of any and all color.

  Almost like death, Mal couldn’t help but think.

  His eyes softened somewhat when he saw the three VKs, and he moved over to greet them.

  “It’s good that you all are here. I am Doctor Mortem. I already know the three of you, being that the lot of you are such an infamous group.” He shook the bluenette’s hand, and then Evie had to let go of Mal’s hand for a moment so that the purple-haired girl could as well. Evie quickly latched back on as soon as Mal was finished. Jay removed his hand from Mal’s shoulder to exchange his greetings.

  The three of them stared at the man expectantly, simultaneously eager for and dreading the news that was to come.

  He eyed them all in turn very slowly with a gravity in his gaze that left Mal with a deep chill in her bones.

  “We have had to revive him five times since the incident. His body isn’t able to take much more of the stress that comes with the resuscitation, and if we were to attempt it again, it would likely trigger another seizure that would actually succeed in killing him,” the doctor paused, sighing as he rubbed his face with a hand. Mal felt the fear inside of her building rapidly.

  “I am afraid that he won’t make it much longer.”

  It felt like a knife to the stomach. Stabbing again and again and again. Mal flinched as if she had truly been physically hit.

  She was about to lose all circulation in her hand as Evie squeezed tighter than she had ever thought was humanly possible. Mal could feel Jay’s chest just behind her left shoulder blade as it trembled like a leaf. Dude was huddled next to her leg, pressed as closely as he could get.

  “C-can we see him now?” Evie weakly asked, voicing what Mal herself couldn’t say at that moment.

  “Of course,” the doctor nodded his head solemnly and maneuvered around them to leave the room. The nurses surrounding the bed dispersed as well, going to other parts of the room to attend more patients.

  She almost couldn’t even recognize him. The seizure did something to him- it made him look just as frail as the other bodies surrounding them. He was lying there, his eyes glaze over and his chest rising and falling in shaky breaths.

  They moved forward and Jay moved over to grab the girls two chairs. Evie shared a glance with Mal and she opened her arms a bit, offering the purple-haired girl a hug. Mal looked at her with longing, both wanting to be comforted by her sister’s embrace and not wanting to show weakness.

  In the end, she settled for locking arms with Evie and pressing her forehead against the bluenette’s quietly. There was the sound of chairs being dragged around and stopped carefully, and Mal suddenly felt Jay’s hand resting on her shoulder.

  She knew it was time to face the facts. The two girls hesitantly pulled away from one another and split up. Evie and Mal sat down on opposite sides of the bed and Jay stood at the end of the bed, his hands holding the bar at the foot of the bed in a death grip as his knuckles turned white.

  Dude jumped into Mal’s lap, looking at his boy quietly. After a moment, he stepped onto the bed gently and nudged his hand.

  Carlos carefully and slowly moved his head to look at the dog. A ghost of a smile appeared, and he feebly raised his hand to pet Dude’s head.

  “Hey, Lil’ C,” Mal spoke, forcing her voice to sound stronger than she felt. His eyes shifted up to look at her. “We came here to see you,” Mal explained, reaching out and taking his hand gently.

  “Evie’s on your other side and Jay’s right down there,” Mal motioned her head toward Jay at the foot of the bed. Carlos never took his eyes off of Mal. Mal couldn’t help but worry that he might not have heard her. Or worse, that he didn’t have the energy to look at the other two.

  “Mal,” he started and paused for a long moment, the green-eyed girl attentively listening. Evie took his other hand in the time that he was quieted. “Am I dying?” he whispered, looking Mal straight in the eyes.

  Her mouth immediately went dry, and her heart almost felt like it stopped beating as she avoided his gaze to consider her response to his question. He had asked her specifically. He knew that Mal wouldn’t keep the truth from him. He knew she wouldn’t lie.

  Mal hesitantly brought her eyes back to his, hoping that she wouldn’t have to utter the words.

  After a moment, his eyes fell away from her own and she knew he understood. They sat in silence for a moment and she could hear Evie’s whine rise in her throat, that definitive sign that Evie was about to cry.

  But she couldn’t hold her regrets back any longer. She had to tell him. She didn’t care if he’d die hating her, but she had to try to apologize.

  “Carlos… I’m sorry that I didn’t realize you were down today. I should’ve-”

  “Mal. Don’t be sorry. Above anything else, don’t be sorry,” he insisted, a strength in his voice that was completely opposite of his true condition. Mal looked over at Evie, but quickly looked away upon seeing her tearstained face and bloodshot eyes.

  “I love you guys. If it had to happen earlier today or now or sometime in the next few hours, I’m glad that I knew all of you,” Carlos weakly told them, turning his head to look at Evie and looking down his bed at Jay before finally returning his gaze to Mal.

  “You guys were there for me when nobody else was. You helped me,” he turned to look at Evie, “defended me,” he glanced at Jay, “and inspired me,” he looked at Mal. “You three were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I want you all to know that I am so grateful for all that you’ve done.”

  Mal glanced at Jay and saw the glassy sheen to his eyes. She knew Evie was already crying.

  They were quiet together for a few moments before Carlos coughed hard, shaking all over. He lay back down after a second, and Mal had to calm herself after the momentary panic that she endured.

  “I’m scared,” he rasped, looking at the ceiling. “Where will I go?” he asked, trembling a bit.

  “I… I don’t know,” Mal told him, her green eyes searching the side of his face as she attempted to memorize every bit of it.

  “But someplace grand, I’m sure,” Evie piped up suddenly, her voice raw with fresh emotion, and Mal was thankful for the save.

  “Probably lots of dogs,” Jay suddenly spoke, offering a smile.

  “And ice cream. Definitely ice cream,” Mal added. They all, even Carlos, shared a quiet laugh at that.

  “You know, with you guys here to help me face it… it doesn’t seem so bad anymore,” Carlos murmured, his eyelids drooping slowly.

  “I’m going to miss you, though, when I get there,” he whispered. “It won’t be the same without all of you to enjoy it with me.”

  “Yeah… We’re going to miss you, too, bro,” Jay replied, and Mal detected a tightness in his throat that normally wasn’t there as he reached down and gently touched his foot beneath the sheets.

  “We love you more than anything, Carlos,” Evie expressed heartfeltly. It was obvious she was about to lose it again.

  Dude licked Carlos’ hand that was in Mal’s.

  “We’ll see you there one day,” Mal told him, her eyes growing harder and harder to see through the increasing amount of tears.

  His eyelids finally fluttered closed, a small smile on his face as he peacefully breathed his last.

  And Jay, Evie, and Mal collapsed to tears, because that was their brother.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

  Many years passed since Carlos was buried. Along the painful road of life, Jay and Evie left Mal, too, their lives but a wisp. The three remaining VKs had spent their old age together, marveling at how the world had changed and actually had kept on turning for so many years beyond Carlos’ death.

  But eventually, Mal had been left alone to live in the world by herself.

  Until one glorious awakening.

  Mal opened her eyes, but quickly shut them tightly. The sun was so blinding. She must have forgotten to shut the blinds the previous night.

  She eventually squinted, barely opening them as she adjusted to the light. It then occurred to her that she was not lying in her bed, and was instead in the grass.

  Mal’s eyes shot wide open as she gawked at the world around her. There were beautiful trees, the sun was shining brightly, and there were… dogs?

  In the distance, she spotted a whole pack of dogs, wrestling and playing with one another. They romped through the soft grass and rolled carelessly in the mud near a stream.

  After a moment, it became apparent to Mal that she wasn’t feeling any sort of pain in her hand. She had gotten a really bad pain in her hand as of late. She attributed it to many years of overworking her hands and fingers with the pencil.

  She looked at her hand and was completely baffled when she saw smooth, soft skin instead of the usual wrinkles and wornness that comes with old age.

  Mal glanced up, looking around the place once again. However, her searching gaze immediately halted upon the sight of three certain beings that were approaching her.

  It was Jay, Evie, and Carlos. All three of them were as young and healthy as they had been just before Carlos passed away. The threesome helped her up.

  Mal hesitantly reached out to Evie, cradling her cheek in her hands. Evie leaned into the touch, looking at her with adoring eyes. Letting go of Evie, Mal then turned to Jay, holding his shoulders in both of her hands. Her face lit up in the biggest grin she had in years. Mal flung her arms around Jay, Evie, and Carlos the best that she could and they all held each other in a tight hug.

  After a moment of reveling in the touch of her family, she raised her tear-filled gaze to look at Carlos. He had a wide smile on his face. Oh, how she had missed that smile.

  “You were right, Mal.”

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 4: False Alarm

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which their cat’s gone missing and Y/N doesn’t know what to do.

Word count: 3.7k

Chapter 3: Handcuffs - Niall can only think of one way to solve his best friends’ conflict.

Wattpad link

A/N: For those who did not know, I went through a terrible week and couldn't write, so I had to postpone this update until Sunday. This chapter is shorter than the previous ones, but the next will be as long as usual. Thank you for reading! Love, Allie. (Btw, who loves Breakfast At Tiffany’s and Audrey Hepburn?)

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“No, no, no, this is not happening to me!”

When Layla heard Y/N’s scream, she was in the living room watching Breakfast At Tiffany’s. Normally she would just shrug it off because it could be another cockroach in the tub. But as Y/N shouted out her name specifically, she had no choice but to click pause and go see what it was.

Her best friend was sitting on the bedroom floor, back pressed against the closet. Once she spotted Layla, she rose immediately to show her the phone. “I missed my period,” she cried out, looking utterly distraught. “I haven’t checked the app in so long and just now realized I’m two weeks late. I can’t even remember the last time I was late!”

“Okay, calm down.” Layla raised her hands, taking a deep breath. “As far as I know, stress can cause irregular and missed periods, and you’ve been working your ass off lately. No wonder.”

“But I threw up yesterday and this morning too.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that...” Y/N paused, shutting her eyes as if she was afraid if she said it, it would come true. But she couldn’t avoid the thought forever, she had to tell somebody. “I think I’m pregnant.”

“Don’t joke like that.” Layla snorted, but Y/N was quick to seize her arm.

“Harry and I had sex without a condom on our honeymoon once and I forgot that I wasn’t on the pills!” The girl said in one single breath, but Layla could hear every word loud and clear. Her eyes bulged out as her jaw dropped. She took a few seconds to figure out how to react to this news.

“How could you fucking forget, dumbass?!” She raised her voice, smacking her best friend on the arm. Y/N jumped away, rubbing the sore spot as she pouted. “We were on the beach and...and there were stars and...it was very romantic and—”

Layla cut her off by putting up one hand. “Spare me the details, please. I’ve seen enough in the last five years, I’m surprised I’m not traumatized yet.”

Y/N huffed and ignored that joke as she went on, “but the point is, I already took the emergency pill in the morning!”

“Those pills don’t always work you know.”

“I know, I just...don’t know what to do now?” The distressed girl collapsed onto her bed, her face was pallid, and her heart was pounding so hard that her chest might explode. “I can’t...I can’t get pregnant now. My husband is drowning under a pile of work, and I just got promoted.”

Standing with her back against the closet, Layla glanced up at the ceiling. She thought for two seconds and looked back to Y/N. “Have you taken a test?”

Y/N propped herself up on her elbows, frowning as she mumbled, “n-no.”

With no hesitation, Layla jumped right at her and dragged her straight towards the bathroom door. “Do you have one of those pregnancy sticks?” Y/N nodded, her mouth turned into a frown. “Good. Now get your ass in there and pee on it, then we’ll figure out what to do next.”

“But what if I’m really pregnant?”

“Just fucking get in there!” Layla grumbled as she pushed her best friend into the room and shut the door. The problem was temporarily solved. Now it was time to go back to her favorite movie.

Every one of Layla's friends knew how obsessed she was with Breakfast At Tiffany’s. She couldn’t recall how many times she’d watched that film and fallen in love with Audrey Hepburn all over again. So when Y/N asked her to come over for a movie marathon Sunday, she had been so excited, knowing her best friend had never seen this one before. But here she was, watching it alone because Y/N was taking forever in the bathroom with that pregnancy stick.

“You’re gonna miss the iconic scene! Holly is putting on her lipstick!” Layla shouted with a mouth full of popcorn and muttered along the famous line “a girl doesn’t read this sort of things without her lipstick,” while grinning from ear to ear.

“Layla...”

The soft voice pulled her attention away from the TV screen. She meant to scold at Y/N for interrupting her, but as soon as she saw her best friend’s pouting face, she knew something had gone wrong.

“H-How was it?” She immediately stood up and walked up to Y/N, who gave her a slight shrug. Y/N didn’t say a word, still, Layla already had her answer. What else could it be when Y/N seemed this agitated? A positive. Definitely a positive.

Frowning, she wrapped both arms around Y/N to pull her in and lay a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t worry..." she said. "You’re gonna be a great mum."

“But I—” Y/N could barely begin when Layla shushed her with a wave and turned back to the screen. Audrey’s character Holly was now crying in the rain because she’d lost her yellow cat. This was Layla's favorite scene, there was no way she could miss it.

“Cat! Cat!” She mumbled along with Holly, placing both hands on her chest. No matter how many times she had watched this one, she always got emotional as if it was her first. However, her mood was ruined by another scream so loud, that her ears went deaf for a few seconds. She widened her eyes at Y/N, who was now looking from left to right like she was going insane.

“Where’s Treasure?!” She shouted.

It was then that Layla remembered she hadn’t seen the white cat that entire morning. She scanned her eyes around the room, looking slightly concerned. “You told me you were gonna give the cat a bath. But then you screamed, and I came in to see you on your bedroom floor.”

“Right...I was...I was about to give her a bath...” Y/N tried to steady her breath while pacing back and forth. Immediately, she stopped dead in her tracks, her jaw fell slack as she pointed a finger to the front door which was wide opened. “Who opened that door?!”

“You did!” Layla scoffed. “You told me you burnt something in the kitchen, so you let the door opened for the smoke to fly out.”

“Shit...no, no, no!” Y/N wailed, her face contorted. Nam had been cat-sitting Treasure for so long and never had there been a problem. But as soon as he took a day off and let Y/N do the job, Treasure ended up missing. How could she be so careless? If something happened to her cat, she would hate herself forever. Harry would hate her too. She couldn’t let that happen. And so she freaked out and told her best friend, “We need to go find Treasure!”

“Calm down, she’ll come ba—” Layla didn’t get to finish her sentence. Y/N pushed her aside and ran out of the flat in a heartbeat.

“Meow!” 

The sound caused Layla’s head to spin. For a second there she had hoped it was Treasure. But unfortunately, it was from the movie. Holly Golightly had found her yellow cat in the alley, and while in tears, she hugged her pet as soft music began to play. Layla exhaled, rolling her eyes. She knew she’d be damned if Treasure never came back again, and so she paused the film to follow Y/N out of the flat.

.

.

.

As the girls got to the lobby, they bumped into Ben, who was on his way to visit them. The smile on his face slipped just as Layla screamed “Treasure is missing!” and Y/N pushed him aside to rush towards the door. Confused, he snatched her arm and pulled her right back.

“Let’s all calm down now. Treasure’s a smart cat. She won’t go far,” he tried to reassure the nervous girl, but those words seemed completely useless as she hissed and brushed him off.

“She’s my cat okay? You don’t have a cat, you don’t get it!”

Y/N’s aggressive reaction left Ben confused. Eyes widened, he turned to Layla, shooting her a look of concern as he assumed she would know what was going on. But her mouth snapped shut instead of giving him an answer. Something about their behaviors made Ben think Y/N’s lost cat wasn’t the biggest problem here. He stepped forward, gently rubbing her arm and leaning down so their eyes met.

“Hey, just take a deep breath and—” Y/N barely let him finish. She grabbed his shoulders then shook him violently. “I spent five minutes with my cat and now she’s missing! How am I gonna look after a human baby?!”

“Okay, dude, stop. You’re scaring him.” Layla literally had to drag her away before she ripped off Ben’s shirt. It took the man around five seconds to figure out what she meant, and once realization dawned on his face, he gasped, covering his mouth.

“Are you pregnant?”

“No, I am not!” Y/N answered, but Layla quickly clarified. “She’s still in the denial phase.”

Ben’s reaction to the pregnancy news was entirely different from the girls had expected. He clasped his hands together, bouncing up and down before reaching out to caress Y/N’s belly. His eyes literally lit up when he smiled at her. “Is it a little Y/N or little Harry?”

“Oh my god, does anyone with a dick know how pregnancy works?” Layla cried out as she smacked his hand away, and he instantly shot her a glare.

“Someone with a dick who’s not into dicks might.”

“Enough with the pregnancy talk!” Y/N raised her voice, sounding exhausted and frustrated at the same time. She knew if she let these two argue it would never end, thus the best solution at the moment was to stay calm as Ben had said. There was plenty of time later to worry about being pregnant. “Now.” She sighed. “Let’s split and find Treasure before something happens to her.”

.

.

.

The search had gone on for almost three hours. They had been to every place in their neighborhood where they assumed the cat might be, but it was hopeless. How could they find such a tiny creature in a city as big as London? A child might be easy to spot, but Treasure was a cat. God knew where she might be. She could've been kidnapped and nobody would've cared or noticed. That, however, was the last thing Y/N wanted to think of right now.

Heartbroken and disappointed, Y/N returned to her building, trying to catch her breath while sweat was dripping down from her forehead and soaking her entire back. There she met Layla, who was also in the same nervous state.

“Y/N, I’ve looked everywhere, can’t find her.” Layla breathed, both hands on her hip as she looked around, squinting her eyes. “Let’s just hope Ben returns with good news.”

That didn't calm Y/N's nerves at all. She slowly released a shaky breath and flopped down on the step behind them. Hugging both knees, she muttered, “this is all my fault. How am I supposed to tell Harry?”

Layla could only sigh as she took a seat next to her friend. With both arms around Y/N’s shoulders, she spoke, “this isn’t your fault. It’s just the pregnancy hormones that make you feel this way.”

But Y/N shook her head. Layla didn't understand that response, yet she had a feeling there was something else she did not know. Without waiting for her to wonder, Y/N blurted out, “I...I didn't take the test.”

“What?" Layla’s green eyes shot open. “What the fuck does that mean?!”

“I-I was about to but I got scared...”

“Fuck, dude…” was all Layla could whisper before letting the silence sink in, and they sat like that, both were thinking on their own. It did sound like a bad thing at first. Y/N let Layla and also Ben believe the test was positive, thus they had been worrying all for nothing. But as Layla thought again, she realized this could be better. She tapped her best friend on the shoulder to get her attention. “But hey, it means you might not be pregnant. We still have hope.”

“Actually…” Y/N’s voice was so tiny Layla could barely hear that word. "That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Huh?”

Y/N sighed, chewing on her bottom lip as she pondered before speaking up. “I know this may sound insane but...we had a pregnancy scare before and...and it was a false alarm. So if it happens again, I think...” She paused right there. Just like before, she was afraid to say something and have it become a reality. But she trusted Layla, and she knew if she was going to confide in anyone other than Harry, it should be Layla.

“What if I can’t have babies?” Y/N spoke at last. Her voice shuddered, and the anxiety was clear in her tone. “I know I said I didn’t want to have kids now...but what if when I’m ready, I still can’t?”

Layla’s expression softened at once. She put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder as a tiny smile formed on her lips. “Hey, don’t be so pessimistic, everything will be fi—”

“You don’t get it." Y/N shook her head fast, her chapped lips pressed together as her eyes swam with tears. “That’s all Harry’s talked about since our wedding. How am I supposed to come back tonight and tell him I’ve lost our cat and I cannot have babies?”

“He’s not gonna leave you because you can’t get pregnant. Harry’s not like that.”

“But he’ll be disappointed…” She shook her head, her eyes were filled with tears. “I don’t want Harry to be sad and disappointed. I want him to be happy.”

“Hey.” Layla exhaled as she cupped her best friend’s face. “I’ve known Harry for five years, and I‘ve never seen him happier than when he’s with you. That idiot loves you. He’s gonna love you if you go bald and lose all your teeth. You think he gives a fuck if you cannot have babies?”

“No…”

“Say it with confidence, bitch.”

“No,” Y/N spoke louder, trying not to laugh as she wiped away her tears.

Layla giggled, rolling her eyes. “And let’s not make assumptions so soon. We don’t know for sure if you’re pregnant, or if Treasure is really missing. Want me to call H?”

“No, don't.” Y/N shook her head slowly, now more relaxed than before. “He’s having lunch with his suppliers...I don’t wanna bother him.”

Layla said nothing else as she nodded. They sat there for a little while, watching people passing by and waiting for Ben to come back, hopefully with some good news. But the thing about living in London was that, one second it was sunny, and in a blink of an eye, it was raining cats and dogs. That Sunday was no exception. It began with a raindrop on Layla’s arm which instantly caught her attention as she lifted her face up. She opened her mouth to warn Y/N about what was coming for them, but as soon as the first sound escaped her lips, the rain came down like a giant waterfall.

“Shit!” She cursed, standing up quickly, yet Y/N was still sitting there, unbothered by the unexpected shower.

“Hey, dumbass, stand up!”

“No, Treasure can’t be out there in this rain!” Y/N shrugged her best friend’s arm away, keeping her hands above her eyes so she could with water was splashing down on them. Layla kept repeating that Treasure would be fine, but neither of them knew if that was true anymore. They didn't want to think of the worst scenarios because it would break their hearts to even imagine. However, the rain turned out to be their stroke of luck. A familiar purr made their heads turned to the other side of the road. This time, Layla was sure it wasn’t from any movie scene.

“Treasure!”

“Meow!”

The white fur ball hopped off the brick wall and ran across the street to jump right into Y/N’s arms. Y/N forgot about the cold as she pulled the wet creature to her chest, giving her soft kisses all over. “I will never let you out of sight again,” she promised, squeezing Treasure tightly.

Standing on the sidelines, Layla ignored the rain pouring down on them three. "My favorite scene," she mumbled, her lips curved into a peaceful smile. The moment was beautiful and warm. But then a yellow cat jumped right out from the bush behind them, causing Layla to scream and almost fall down into the puddle at her feet.

“Tiger?” Y/N raised both eyebrows as the creature approached her and rubbed its face against her leg.

“Jesus Christ, how many cats do you secretly own?!” Layla shouted, making her best friend giggle.

“This one isn’t mine, it's Mason’s.”

“Harry's hot cousin?”

“You mean ‘annoying’?” Y/N snorted. “Yeah.”

That was when Ben came back, holding a black umbrella and looking startled to see the girls standing in the rain. All out of breath, he announced with an enormous grin, “that lady over there said that she saw Treasure with a yellow cat, they were heading to the park and—Hold up!” The man halted when he saw those little troublemakers staring back at him. The look on his face made both Y/N and Layla burst out laughing.

“Okay, Romeo and Juliet,” Y/N sighed as she picked Tiger up with her other hand. “Let’s get you both dry and cleaned.”.

.

.

.

As soon as Harry got home, he dashed into the bedroom. His hair was wet from the rain, but fortunately, his clothes were mostly dry. With a sigh of relief, he leaned against the door, smiling as he saw his wife and their cat snuggling up together while watching a movie. As soon as Y/N spotted him, she cheered, “daddy’s home!” And Treasure meowed in joy when he came in to kiss both of their heads.

He stroked his wife’s cheek in concern. “I ran into Ben earlier. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it was a false alarm.” Y/N nodded, pressing her moist lips into a gentle smile. “She was only going on a date with Tiger.”

“Mason’s cat?”

She nodded again, and both of them turned to look at the guilty one.

“Guess I don't have to wait until we have a daughter to worry about her and the boy next door.” Harry chuckled while shaking his head. He expected Y/N to laugh along like she normally would, but instead, she kept a straight face. It wasn’t her not finding his joke funny, it was something else, he could tell.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he met her eyes again. Instead of telling him the reason, she responded with a question which left him surprised.

“Did Ben tell you about the other thing?”

He stuck out his bottom lip, shaking his head slightly. “What other thing?”

“That I thought I was pregnant, but I wasn’t?”

Harry felt his entire body go numb as he heard that. He didn’t know how to respond because he couldn’t read her expression, so all he could do was stutter and end up shaking his head. “He um…no, he didn’t mention…Are you okay, love?”

“Layla took me to the hospital. All those pregnancy symptoms were caused by stress,” she whispered and blinked her sweet eyes at him. Harry had no idea why she seemed so sad. She had been rambling on about how they couldn’t afford a child at this point. He thought she should be happy instead.

“Oh, that’s a relief, right? You don’t want to have kids now,” he said while rubbing her back as she scooted closer to rest her head on his shoulder. She was quiet for a while to think before she spoke. It was always bad news when Y/N was quiet. He knew her well to realize when something was bothering her.

“Yeah, well...I...” She hesitated. “Maybe...I won’t ever...have kids.” As she pulled away to see how he reacted, he tried to remain calm, yet ended up gawking at her. She gulped, reaching out to squeeze the hand he put on her lap. Her voice shuddered as she went on. “I have high FSH levels, which means low chances of getting pregnant.”

“Oh” was his instant reply. That was a terrible comment to your wife saying she might never have children, but he wasn’t in his clear mind to come up with something better. He was shocked, yes, but he wasn’t upset about the news, not even the slightest.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke quietly, giving his hand another squeeze.

That was how he knew, she forgot. She forgot how much he loved her, and they were married, and nothing in this world could change the fact that, they were together in this forever.

“No, don’t be sorry, love.” He pressed his forehead against her, watching her eyelids flutter as she held his gaze. “This doesn’t matter to me, you do. Besides, having low chances doesn’t mean impossible.”

"But it’s still unlikely...I’m so sorry," she apologized once more, despite knowing he hated it when she blamed herself for something that wasn’t her fault. Still, she couldn’t help but feel like it was. "We’ve talked about having kids since forever, and now I’m telling you that it might not happen, I—"

“Hey.” He grabbed her face with both hands, forcing her to pay attention to his words instead of her own. “This isn’t your fault. This doesn’t change how much I love you. Told you at our wedding, didn’t I? I’ll love you forever, and that means with or without babies. We can always adopt ours, like Brad and Angelina, yeah? We’ll be a family of ten if that's what you want.” With tears in her eyes, she nodded fast, exhaling a warm laugh that got him chuckling as well. “Let’s not lose hope,” he reassured her. “I’m sure we’ll get kids of our own one day.”

“You believe that?”

“Yeah.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips. “But I’m happy with the way things are now. We’re already a happy family. You, me, and—” Sighing, he turned to Treasure, who was patiently waiting for her name to get mentioned. “And this little lady who left home with the boy her parents had warned her about.”

Y/N giggled, hugging the cat close to her chest and pulling her husband closer to kiss him passionately. The film on her laptop was still playing, and she knew Layla would be so mad that she didn’t watch until the rolling credits. However, everyone knew how it would end, with Holly Golightly kissing her lover Paul while holding her cat.

[hiredhorse]

Sirry prompt: Harry ressurects sirius with blood magic post ootp and they live together in peace. I've been listening to Hozier recently (specifically 'like real people do' and 'work song') and thats just big sirry energy to me :)

Holy four-letter-word, anon, I am deeply in love with you. 

The soundtrack you gave me is fueling a huge project for which I have absolutely no time but, nonetheless, a sudden furious energy. In short I don’t know when there will ever be more, but because I feel like I can’t go another month without expressly responding to your ask, here’s the first chapter:

Now.

Sirius was slumped over the table in the kitchen, the room where he’d more or less set up camp the past week. He barely left it for the other parts of the house except for when he felt desperate to look out a window. It was a little better than being penned in his room. He’d thought of getting out of Azkaban as coming back to life, and when they’d made him go to the house that time, his old room had seemed like the best option. It made him feel like a teenager. It reminded him of his friends. And though the deepest sorrow of his life was tangled up with James and Lily and Peter, all the joy he’d ever known was there, too, inseparable.

But now that he’d been truly resurrected, and somehow was trapped here again, the last thing he could stand was thinking of James. Not that it could be avoided, with his son —

The Floo chimed and Sirius stood up from the bench, his heart racing even though he’d been expecting Remus, stepping out onto the hearth then just looking at Remus. Harry came through behind him, stumbling up against Remus’ shoulder. Remus turned slightly toward him with a reflexive smile.

“Harry,” he said lowly, “like I said, I’d like to speak to Sirius alone.”

Sirius looked at Harry and then was torn between the urge to look anywhere else or to stare at him forever. Everything about Harry, now, was a wave of commingled delight and horror for Sirius. His shoulders, skinny but suddenly broad enough to stretch out the shoulders of Dudley’s old hand-me-down t-shirt, which was pulled loose around the collar, flashing a prominent clavicle. The belt bunching the waist of his too-large jeans tight around a narrow waist that Sirius wanted to pull loose for a dozen reasons, among them the desire to replace Harry’s every article of clothing with the sort of fine, tailored stuff his posh dad had liked and also to cinch Harry’s wrists together over his head and…

Sirius blinked. He looked at Remus. Remus was staring back with an expression of naked rage, like he’d read each and every one of Sirius’ thoughts. It startled Sirius. He’d never known Remus to get angry, truly, even when he should be. 

“I’ll just be…” Harry gestured vaguely toward the door, sidling toward it as though he wasn’t willing to turn his back on them. “Will you two…?”

“We’re only going to talk,” Remus promised softly, but even though he was speaking to Harry, his voice had an undertone of danger that made Sirius want to flatten his ears and growl.

Harry was frozen with his hand on the door. Sirius looked at him and smiled. Reassuring. He didn’t have to look at Remus to know how this was fanning the flames; he half-expected his oldest living friend to combust in Fiend Fire. But he just looked at Harry, trying to radiate good feelings while fighting the urge to crawl out of his skin, to be a dog and cower or run or raise his hackles and fight. 

Harry swallowed, throat bobbing, managed a shaky answering smile and slipped out the door.

“You piece of shite,” Remus said as soon as the door closed. He took a step toward Sirius, which brought him down off the hearth at last. His footstep seemed to echo in the room; Sirius winced at the sound. “You worthless, cowardly — “

Sirius cut him off, eyes narrowing, “It isn’t like I did the ritual, Moony!”

“Don’t call me that.”

They stared at each other. Remus took a step again, this time sideways, his head lowered. Then another. One at a time, slow and deliberate, like he was stalking something he wanted to kill on the first try. Unthinking, as Remus moved, Sirius did too, so the table stayed between them.

“I know how you are. You’ve already looked everything up, right? You know more about the spell than I ever will? Well, then you know I couldn’t hurt him. I couldn’t do anything he didn’t want…”

“It’s not right,” Remus bit out. “Don’t try to justify it. It’s sick and it’s unforgivable, and I should do him a favor and…” His shoulders went tight, and Sirius realized what was going to happen a moment before it did. Remus leapt onto the table and then back to the floor in two inhuman bounds, putting him face to face with Sirius, his wand suddenly in his hand.

Sirius didn’t draw in return. He did reach out on reflex and grasped Remus by the forearm. Remus’ pupils were huge, his breathing harsh. He looked so old, this close. It made Sirius wonder what James would have looked like, how he would have grown up. It should be him here, murdering Sirius for Harry’s honor. A part of him wanted to bare his neck to Remus, James’ proxy in this righteous execution, and welcome a final ending at last.

But. There had been so much cold darkness. Not just in death, but before. Wandering through the years in Azkaban, then Grimmauld Place, subhuman. A wraith. When Harry had pulled him from the veil it had felt like going into heat and light at last, painfully intense and pathetically welcome. Sirius wanted to live. 

“What was I supposed to do?” he murmured, searching Remus’ face for some shred of understanding. “Was I supposed to just stay dead?”

Their faces were close, and he saw that it cost Remus nothing at all to hiss, “Yes!”

Sirius’ heart seized at that. He shoved Remus with unconscious strength—shoved him harder than should have been possible. His body was so much stronger than it had ever been. Even when he was a perfect, vital twenty-year-old still bright-eyed over a new war.

So strong that he knocked an angry werewolf all the way back against the far wall. There Remus stood, arms spread to either side as though plastered, eyes wide, so pale his scars stood out all over his face in dark red relief. 

A little of the venom went out of Sirius. His hands were fisted, and he flexed them open. His palms were stinging where he’d accidentally cut himself with his fingernails, four bloody crescents on each palm.

“Well,” he said roughly. “If that’s how you feel, I guess you can fuck off.”

Remus shoved himself away from the wall and summoned his wand, which he’d dropped somewhere midway. He didn’t look at Sirius, only at the floor as he strode back to the Floo, grabbed the powder and muttered his destination tersely. Sirius stood transfixed, watching the flames shrink back when he was gone.

Harry came in. Of course he noticed Sirius’ hands immediately, and picked them up with a little cry, rubbing each cut with his thumb. Sirius tried not to wince. It wasn’t hard; though the touch stung, Remus’ words had left deeper wounds.

Or had they? Had he really been surprised?

“You have to be careful with this stuff,” Harry muttered, cleaning the blood with his sleeve. “I don’t want to have to give you any more,” he added, and Sirius was startled enough to look at his face.

Harry smiled wryly.

Sirius snorted. “You have a dark sense of humor,” he noted. “I say that as someone with Black humor, so I should know.”

Harry’s smile deepened. He was swiftly healing each spot on Sirius’ hands with his wand. His magic felt sinfully good on Sirius’ skin. 

“The darkest form of humor is punning, of course,” Sirius said, only half-conscious of what was coming out of his mouth. He grimaced. “How much of that did you hear?” He couldn’t imagine that Harry hadn’t stayed near the door, and Remus had been in such a state it hadn’t occurred to him to cast any spells for privacy.

Harry nodded, finally looking up, though he still held Sirius’ left hand. He put his wand in his pocket. Sirius reached out, helpless against the urge to touch. He cupped his hand over Harry’s neck and rubbed back and forth the way Harry liked. Harry stepped nearer so they were fully in each other’s space and rested his forehead on Sirius’ shoulder.

“He didn’t mean it,” Harry said, sounding sure as anything. Both his hands, and one of Sirius’, were now trapped between their bodies. Harry stroked Sirius’ stomach with his knuckles.

Sirius grunted and didn’t reply. Of course Moony meant it. If their roles were reversed and it was Moony who’d let Harry fuck him back to life — repeatedly — then Sirius would have done more than wish him dead. He’d have killed him.

Here was his final proof, if he needed it: he was as bad as any of his ancestors. Worse, maybe, because there was nothing Sirius loathed more than a hypocrite.

[its-r-i-d-i-c-u-l-o-u-s]

Call Me A Freak- Chapter 2: Mother Knows Best

Words: 1,870

Warnings: death threats, manipulation, physical and emotional abuse

Ch 1 | Ch 3

~ ~ ~

“You will go. You will find the Fairy Godmother. And you will bring me back her magic wand,” my mother snarled.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek. There had to be a way to convince her that this was a bad idea without just telling her that we didn’t want to go.

“The wand is pointless on the Isle. I don’t see why you’d even want it.”

She glared down at me from her throne. “It will work. After you break the barrier from Auradon.”

I felt my stomach drop. This was worse than I thought. This required too much responsibility on my end. Too much pressure. It was all too much.

She must have seen my unease, because she beckoned me closer. “Do you enjoy watching innocent people suffer?”

“Well, yeah,” I chuckled. “I mean, who doesn’t?”

“Well then, get me the wand!” she demanded before I had even finished. “With that wand and my septor, I will be able to bend both good and evil to my will!”

“Our will,” the Evil Queen added.

I could see my mother’s face drop in frustration, but she didn’t argue. “Our will,” she corrected herself. She had to put on a good face. If I knew my mother, she would just as soon get rid of her supposed “friends” and their children to seize power for herself.

She turned her stare back on me. “And if you refuse… you’re dead.”

I widened my eyes. “What? Mom-”

But she snapped her fingers in front of my face and silenced me. I shouldn’t have been surprised. She would do absolutely anything to get what she wanted, but was death just a threat? I was her last remaining child…

She leaned down to me and in a flash, her eyes had lit up with a sickly, emerald color.

My eyes reciprocated before I could stop them, caught in an intense staring contest with my mother. I was bound to lose. Her powers of persuasion were too strong, but I really didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to put my friends through something like this, when I knew they would get nothing in return.

My throat closed up. I was afraid. If I won this, she could simply kill me. Send me out back and have one of her guards crush my skull under his feet. I knew she wouldn’t even kill me herself.

“Fine,” I muttered, looking at the floor. I couldn’t let her see my face right now. It was too hard to veil my disappointment.

“I win,” she gloated.

There was a moment of tense silence. I don’t think anyone in the room had ever heard my mother threaten me with so much, especially not my friends, and they weren’t sure how to respond.

Most of the villains actually cared quite deeply for their kids. This did nothing to make them good parents, but they wouldn’t murder their children for disobediance. But Maleficent… she didn’t have a heart. She wasn’t just evil, she was unstoppable. And it terrified me.

“Evie!” the Evil Queen called behind me. Evie started to bounce over to her mother, as she continued, “My little evillette in training. You must find yourself a prince with a big castle.”

Evie’s face lit up. She worshipped her mother and her mother’s ideology. All Evie could have ever wanted from life was to sit on a throne, surrounded by servants, and riches, and reassurance that she was beautiful.

She giggled in excitement, but her mother shut her down immediately. “No laughing! Wrinkles!”

“Well, they’re not taking my Carlos, because I’d miss him too much,” Cruella cooed.

Carlos’ face morphed between confusion and hope. “Really mom?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Who would touch up my roots, fluff my fur, and scrap the bunyans off my feet?”

His face dropped at the sentiment. “Maybe a new school wouldn’t be the worst thing,” he grumbled, but she shut him down from that thought almost immediately.

“Carlos, they have dogs in Auradon.”

“Oh no, I’m not going!” he insisted.

“Well, Jay isn’t going either!” Jafar cried from the other side of the room. “I need him to stock the shelves in my store.” He then proceeded to shuffle through all the Jay had stolen on our endeavor today.

“What is wrong with you all?” my mother shouted, regaining my attention. She walked down to floor level with us, grabbing my arm as she went and shoving me down into the seat next to her. “For twenty years, I have searched for a way off this island. For twenty years, they have robbed us from our revenge!”

I couldn’t help curling into myself as she yelled and threw me around. I stared down at the table, trying to calm myself, while she continued.

“Revenge on Snow White and her horrible little men. Revenge on Aladdin and his bloated genie!”

“I will-” Jafar started, in a fit of anger, but Jay held him back.

“Revenge on every sneaking dalmation that escaped your clutches! And I, Maleficent, the evilest of them all, I will finally have revenge on Sleeping Beauty… and her relentless little prince,” she said mockingly.

“Villians!” she shouted. They all turned to her, awaiting her command. “Our day has come. E.Q.,” she turned to the queen, “give her the magic mirror.”

The Evil Queen handed her daughter a small object, about the size of Evie’s hand.

“This is your magic mirror?” she questioned.

“Well, it ain’t what it used to be,” her mother responded. “But it will help you find things.”

“My spellbook!” Maleficent remembered. “I need my…” she trailed off, in thought, so the Evil Queen nodded behind her.

My mother flipped around. “Aha! The safe!” She ran over to what was, essentially, a refrigerator, containing her most prized possession.

“Come, darling,” she beckoned me. As I approached, she pulled it out, running her fingers over the cover. “It doesn’t work here, but it will in Auradon.”

Not two seconds later, there was a honking outside, signalling the arrival of our ride. She shoved the book into my arms and guided me out to the balcony.

As I looked over the edge, down at the dirty, crowded streets, I realized I was leaving the Isle. Really leaving. Not just daydreaming about a different world, where there are fields and clean air, but actually going there. Or… somewhat going there.

Whenever I had dreamed of a better world before, it hadn’t been Auradon. I knew that if I were in Auradon, things wouldn’t be better. They would be cleaner, perhaps, but not better. I could never fit into a place like Auradon. It was full of royal people who have learned all their lives how to be proper and just and despise those like me. And if I were truly there, it would mean shunning the Isle. It would mean leaving behind all that I knew and possibly having it turn on me, too.

No, Auradon might have inspired this fake world, but this fantasy of mine was perfect. It was made specifically so that I could feel peace.

“The future of the free world rests on your shoulders,” my mother told me, her arm still wrapped around me, forcing me to look between the shaky apartments of my city and at the green hills of Auradon.

I could just make it out across the ocean. It truly looked like a paradise for all. But my friends and I didn’t deserve paradise. So, what was Auradon going to be for us? Some sort of trap? Punishment? Hell?

“Don’t blow it,” she added, gripping onto my arm, like a threat.

I made eye contact with her and she sent me a tense smile, which did nothing to make me feel better, then turned on her heel and began to walk downstairs.

I hesitated for just a moment, before following her.

Once I had grabbed my bag and made my way downstairs, I took in the car. Many on the streets were swarming it, throwing rocks or banging on the windows. It was obviously a very strong car, to be able to withstand the fury of the Isle.

I lifted my bag in front of my face, to avoid getting hit, but a few rocks still managed to pummel my arms and stomach.

The driver didn’t get out of the car. Probably a smart move on his part. As far as I could tell, he was the first person from Auradon to ever visit the Isle of the Lost and the people weren’t exactly jumping to give him a warm welcome.

I set my bag in the back, along with Evie’s, Jay’s, and Carlos’s. As I shut the trunk, my eyes drifted behind me, and I noticed my mother had made her way back up to the balcony to watch us go.

This unsettled me more, and I looked away quickly. I pushed through the crowd of people and slid into the car, where my friends were already waiting for me.

The minute I shut the door, there was silence among us, aside from the muted yelling outside.

The car started with a jolt, taking us away from our parents. It was just a little too much for all of us. Jay and Carlos slowly started to gorge on the mountains worth of candy they had laid out for us, but neither of them talked. Evie watched as we drifted away from the central part of the Isle, the groups of people watching us lessening as we got farther away. And I was staring at the floor, trying to concentrate. I had to make a plan, someway to get us out of Auradon as soon as possible. Once my mother had what she wanted, I would be off the hook.

The wall between us and the driver slowly descended a minute later. Evie turned around curiously, but all the excitement vanished from her face as she saw what was going on. “Look!”

Attached to the Isle was a bridge. Supposedly it was what had brought all the villains over twenty years ago, but there was no going over it now. It was demolished the minute every villain was off Auradon soil, stranding them there.

We approached this bridge now, no other path to turn on, no slowing down.

“It’s a trap!” Carlos screamed, and my eyes widened. There was no way they had asked for us, just to drive us into the ocean, right?

We all called out in fear, grabbing hold of one another. But the deathly fall we were expecting never came.

With a look around, I came to realize that the bridge had reappeared. Or, at least, a bridge had appeared.

It was gold and circled around us entirely, almost like a tunnel.

“What just happened?” Carlos questioned.

“It must be magic!” Evie giggled from beside me.

I slowly started to realize that we were well past the barrier at this point. This bridge, or tunnel, or whatever it was, seemed to have opened a way for us to safely leave the Isle. And just like that, we were the first villains to get off the Isle in twenty years.