#i'm genuinely hoping i'm making some sense because i'm really tired but thought of replying to the ask before i fell asleep

[theheirofthesharingan]

Hello...I would like to ask you about Itachi's illness...as we have found out that he was suffering from an auto-immune disease called Microscopic Polyangiitis... No evidence appeared in the manga, anime of his illness, and all that helped us were the symptoms we saw..what do you think? Note that there are other diseases that have similar symptoms to the ones that Itachi was suffering from... and that this disease is a hereditary and rare disease (a recessive trait), so the symptoms of this disease appear early, at a young age... If that were true, his parents would have known that he was sick. From the beginning... I personally believe that he was suffering from (heart failure) or perhaps (unstable angina) and that he was deliberately not treating himself and was drawn to medications that only relieve pain (analgesic) in order to shorten the length of his life.

I'm not at all an expert in medical field, so anything regarding Itachi's illness goes over my head entirely. I've read the essay that discussed his illness being MPA, but as expected, I didn’t understand most of it. All the medical terms you mentioned are quite new to me.

Having said that, I do agree it was probably the heart failure. Or more like, the heartbreak syndrome, in which extreme emotional sufferings can lead to the weakened heart muscles. It wouldn't necessarily kill anyone, but in extreme cases, it can. Itachi's case is a little too extreme.

To me, his illness has held more of a symbolic value than the literal/physical one. He was suffering tremendously and lived with self-loathing that he never even acknowledged his own vicitmhood and sufferings.

The illness was probably the physical manifestation of what he went through emotionally after leaving his home. The way there was no cure for his guilt (because no one could ever convince him to have a normal, happier life) there was no cure for his illness either. Maybe if he didn't feel as guilty as he did, he could have some chance at life.

I also believe he took the medicines to only alleviate his pain. But I don't think he deliberately tried to shorten his life. He would want to live long enough, so Sasuke could come and kill him. Maybe if he were given the options of actually curing himself and only easing the pain but still living a painful life, he would go for later. He would think he deserved the pain and even rationalize this self-inflicted agony on the name of deserving it. This is how I imagine him actually surviving all the years of it without snapping.

[avatarmerida]

Hey fellow losers I’m back with more beta huntlow fluff. I know I’ve written some Paulina/William stuff before but this is based on the most recent even more beta huntlow we got from the leaked show bible. So we’ve gone from awkward little prince and fumbling quirky girl to feral witch hunter and equally feral creepy plant girl and I also love them too so hope ya like it 💛💚

———

“And if the water boils here how do all the plants live?” William asked, balancing on the fence along Paulina’s garden as she did some maintenance and planted some new seeds they had found in the forest. She never tired of answering his many questions about the demon realm, especially about the flora and fauna.

“The same way they do in the human realm I suppose,” she said with a small shrug. “I think the stems here have more coating than the plants you’ve seen, but a lot of plants close up during the rain to protect their petals.”

“Interesting,” he said, jumping down to look at her work closer. “How do you persuade the ones with teeth not to bite you?”

“I just keep them well feed, they don’t nip unless they’re hungry or scared,” she said. “But feeding them the food that helps keep their teeth healthy is tricky because it smells kinda gross.”

“They can smell it?”

“They sure can.”

“Fascinating,” he marveled, looking at them closer to see if he could understand how.

“Can I ask you a question?” Paulina asked, wiping some stray dirt from her glasses.

“Of course you may,” replied William, sitting on the ground beside her.

“Why are you still so upset with Luz?” She asked, changing topics. She saw his body language shift.

“I think it’s very clear why,” he said softly.

“You know she didn’t wake you up early on purpose,” she said gently. “She’s really a very nice person, and she genuinely thought she was helping you. Is there anything she can do to prove she’s sorry?”

“I’m not upset that she woke me from my slumber, I'm upset that she was able to,” sighed William, hugging his knees.

“What do you mean? Do you not want to be here?” Paulina asked, hoping it wasn’t the case. Selfishly, she liked having him around.

“When it happened… my uncle told me I’d awaken to a better world. That the suffering and confusion I was around would be gone. That I’d be awoken gently by my…”

“By who?”

“… by my true love.” He said under his breath, almost as though he was embarrassed to utter the words.

“Oh, so you think that Luz is your-.”

“Ew! Bleh, no!” He exclaimed in disgust. “Er, sorry that was rude. No, no I don’t think that. But I think she able to awaken me the way she did because I don’t have a true love.”

“Oh,” Paulina breathed, seeing the genuine hurt slip though the cracks as he tried to keep his lip from trembling. She ventured this was the first time he had said the sentiment aloud. “Or maybe the spell just wore off.”

“Or maybe it just gave up,” he said with a hurt chuckle. “I mean, it makes sense; maidens didn’t favor me before, why would they ever start now? I was better off sleeping forever, giving the world some peace.”

“William, don't say that,” she said, taking his hand. He didn’t flinch at her dirt covered hands.

“It’s true, is it not?” He sighed, focusing on her knuckles decorated with grass stains and tiny scars from the thorns she did not fear. “I cause you nothing but trouble despite you showing me nothing but kindness.”

“Well technically I did threaten to feed you to my plant,” she reminded him. It was certainly a unique first impression.

“Twas for my own good,” he said. “Plus knowing you as I do now, I know it was merely a jest to teach me a lesson. You are kind and patient and I’m just a nuisance.”

“No you’re not!” She insisted. “Okay, well maybe a little at first, but you’ve changed! You’re still learning and adapting, growth doesn’t happen all at once overnight.” She gestured to her garden as proof, a mixture of progress and color. “Love is the same way, ya know. Usually you have to get to know someone first before you label them as your ‘true love.’” She carefully plucked a vibrant yellow flower and placed it behind his ear.

“So… you don’t believe in love at first sight?” He asked timidly as she went back to her gardening.

He remembered when he first saw her, how there was a rosey spotlight around her like a halo. How time slowed down so he could soak in every detail of her beauty, memorize her voice and her movements before reality set back in and with it brought a new breed of confusion. He didn’t know better, but upon reflection the whole ordeal felt like what the poetry he had read in secret during his studies labeled as the phenomenon of love at first sight. His eyes had not seen such a thing before and ever since.

“Hmmm, not really?” Paulina pondered. “I think it’s different for everyone, but I also don’t think I’d want to marry someone I don’t know who kissed me while I was sleeping.”

“That is a fair point,” William chuckled, leaning over to help her make another hole in the ground for her next round of seeds. “You’re correct, as usual.”

“Exactly, and I’m also correct when I say if you want to fall in love then you will,” said Paulina. “You just have to give it time, it’s not something you can force.”

“You know… much about love then?”

“I mean, my dads really love each other but they didn’t get married the second they met,” she said. “They got to know each other first and they didn’t meet the way they thought they’d meet their spouse. Everyone’s story is different.”

“But it’s also possible that some of us aren’t meant to have a story.”

She couldn’t deny that, but she refused to accept a world where a boy who seemed to cherish love so much wasn’t meant to have it. “Maybe she was able to wake you because she was meant to introduce you to your true love.”

“Perhaps,” he said, his mind fully focusing on how she had been the first person Luz had introduced him to. He couldn’t complain about that logic.

“It also might help if you had a crush first,” added Paulina, carefully pressing the dirt back into the ground as though tucking it into bed.

“Like a duel?”

“Oh well, a crush is like… what comes before someone is your true love,” she tried to explain without divulging how complicated they could truly get. “Like, having positive feelings about someone, and wanting to spend time with them without, like, getting married after a few days. Just like thinking of them romantically.”

“I think I may… have formed this crush.”

“Oh! On who?” She asked with enthusiasm that made him quiet. Paulson wore her heart on her sleeve, but he had trouble expressing anything that was not deeply rooted in fact. Or at least, the facts he had been feed. A few moments ago he didn’t have the words to describe his feelings let alone validation their were sinful. He didn’t know the proper way to share them.

“Wel… um…”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Paulina quickly, sensing the answer was hard for him to bring forth. “I didn’t consider it could be someone from your original time. I’m sorry if that was too forward, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“And… not wanting to share it doesn’t make it wrong?” William asked.

“Of course not,” she assured him. “You’re allowed to have secrets, and if you want to tell me eventually that’s fine too; you decide when and if you’re ready. I mean, I’ve had tons of crushes on very different people but sometimes they’re just something small, ya know? Sometimes they take awhile to figure out and sometimes they go away on their own, each one is different.”

“Has there ever been one you weren’t able to escape?”

“Well, I don’t know if I would word it like that,” she chuckled. “Having a crush is supposed to be fun, it’s exciting. And sometimes scary, but that also makes it fun. Like a rollercoaster.”

“A roller… coaster?”

“Oh yeah I forgot,” she giggled. “I’ll have to show you one.”

“A… crush?”

“No a rollercoaster,” she said.

“Ah, haha yes of course,” he laughed nervously, painfully aware that he could not seem to stop. “So w-what does one do if they don’t wish to have the crush dissolved?”

“Well I guess you could ask the person you have a crush on to go on a date with you.”

“And a date is like… a courtship, yes? I would seek to woo them?”

She giggled. “Yes, you would seek to woo them.”

He didn’t know what he said that was so humorous but he’d say it everyday for the rest of his life it meant getting to hear her laugh like that.

“Ah, well then. That’s another obstacle, as I know not the way to do so,” he said with a slight frown. “Especially in this foreign, modern land I feel that any outing I plan would not be up to her standards.”

Paulina’s ears perked, her first suspicion dashed as William made it clear the person he liked was someone he had met since he had awakened, which meant it was more than likely that she knew the person as well.

She wondered how well she knew them.

“I mean, like you said I still have much to learn about this world and this time,” he sighed. “But regardless, I’m still myself and I can’t help but feel as though someone discovering I have this crush for them would be most unwanted.”

“I don’t think so,” said Paulina. “I think they’ll think it’s sweet.”

“Surely you jest,” he scoffed. “You’re kind to spare my feelings but I’m sure if this person was aware of my thoughts regarding them they’d be repulsed and uncomfortable.”

“Well I’m sure they’d be perfectly fine with it,” she insisted. “After getting to know you these last few months I can tell you’re actually really sweet, even if you don’t think so. Give yourself more credit.”

“Oh so if I were to tell you I fancy you and wish to spend my days with you, you wouldn’t find it revolting?” He asked as though it was the most comical thing he could imagine.

“No.”

“Oh.” He said, surprised at how quickly and confidently she replied. He cleared his throat and dared to continue. “S-so if I were to say that I would consider it an honor to hold your hand and escort you anywhere you wish to go, you wouldn’t find it inappropriate?”

“No.”

“A-and if I told you you have the most captivating, soft eyes I’ve ever seen and that they make precious jewels envious you would be… okay with that?”

“Um…” Paulina found herself speechless, struck by his words like they were an arrow destined for her very heart.

“Oh yes of course that sentiment is made of cheese, as you might say.” He laughed, slightly embarrassed. “I should have realized my attempts at poetry were novice at best. I apologize if the example was offensive, I should have-.”

“No, no it was very nice!” she said quickly, not wanting to prevent him from saying such lovely things. “It was a beautiful thought, Will. I think anyone would like to hear that.”

“Truly? Uh, well thank you,” he said, unable to hide the blush that danced across his freckles. “Eh, but I’m sure you hear things such as that daily from your suitors.”

“My suitors?” She repeated with a snort. “Oof, now that’s a good one.”

But William did not find it humorous. “I’m sorry, I’m confused.”

“Well let’s just say when other witches my age notice me it’s usually not for the best reasons,” she said. “Most of them think I’m weird or creepy.”

“My apologies again, I’m still getting accustomed to the colloquialisms of this time, do those terms mean something different now?”

“No, I’m pretty sure they mean the same thing now as they did back then,” she said with a small smile, secretly recalling how when they first met William had a similar impression of her, though in fairness it was more about the witch aspect than her specifically. She wondered when exactly that had changed. “I’ve never been very popular. In fact, after Amity stopped talking to me and until I met Augustus most of my closest friends were plants.”

“Well perhaps it is because those plants have the sense to appreciate being in the presence of a rose.”

It was her turn to blush now. “Well, aren’t you the secret romantic?” She giggled, impressed with how quickly he had provided the response. They sat in silence a moment as William realized he hadn’t complimented her hypothetically this time and that something in her tone had shifted. As much as Paulina was willing to try and spare his feelings, he knew she would not lead him astray in this manner. She would not lie to him about this, but did that mean her words applied to her?

“Miss Park… I have a favor of sorts to ask of you,” he began, taking a deep breath.

“Of course,” she said, and he was taken back by how quickly she had agreed. She didn’t even ask what was in it for her benefit, like he was worthy of her assistance without any bribery.

“I will admit I know little of the courtship rituals from my time and even less about the present ones and I was hoping that you would be willing to help… educate me.”

“Oh yeah?” She said with a smirk, scooting closer to him. “How so?”

He could feel his hands get sweatier under his gloves. “Well, would I perchance be able to take you on an outing I believe suitable for expressing such… feelings,” he said as he cleared his throat as though the word made him dizzy. “And you advise me on if it was a suitable choice? I can compensate you for your time, I’ve been saving the snails I’ve acquired in exchange for my sewing and tailoring skills. We can have a grand collection of treats!”

“That sounds really nice,” said Paulina, adoring the way his full smile was on display and she could see the gap in his teeth without him shying away, too caught up in his own hypothetical excitement. “I would love to go out with you William.”

“Okay, wonderful,” he managed to squeak, and his eyes lit up in a way Paulina had never seen before. “I will uh I shall make all the arrangements! What day favors your schedule?”

“I’m fine with whatever day works best for you.”

“The sooner the better!” He exclaimed, louder than he intended to. He swiftly adjusted his volume. “I-I just mean for research purposes. I look forward to the learning aspect of the evening, heh.”

“I’m excited too,” she said and he couldn’t control the wide grin that consumed his whole face. She began to pat down the dirt to help support the budding bulb she had been keeping an eye on, ready to bloom any day now. “Do you think at the end you might be ready to tell me who you have a crush on?”

“I think that if everything goes as planned… I will be. Yes.”

[adrealucia]

hii ! ive been obsessing over sean diaz for years and you might have a lot of requests from me soooo, I was wondering if you could do sean diaz (pre-accident) hard on crushing on reader who's like the popular kid who usually doesnt really notice him until he gets their number and turns out reader is actually funny and pretty nice despite popular beliefs :))

ah i have been dying to write this request ever since i got it, this idea is just really cute and i could totally see this being canon !!! I hope you like it

Popular Misconceptions

Sean Diaz glanced across the cafeteria, his eyes locking onto the table where you sat, surrounded by a group of friends. You, the popular girl, laughed and chatted animatedly, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone around you. Sean couldn't help but feel a pang of envy mixed with curiosity. He had always admired you from afar, never quite daring to believe he could be part of your world.

"Hey, Sean, you zoning out again?" Lyla's voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned back to his best friend.

"Yeah, sorry," he mumbled, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Just thinking."

Lyla followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow. "Thinking about her, huh?"

Sean blushed, looking down at his tray. "I mean, she's... interesting."

"Interesting, huh?" Lyla smirked. "Well, why don't you go talk to her? She's not as unapproachable as you think."

Sean shook his head. "Yeah, right. Like she'd even notice me."

"Hey, you'd be surprised. She's in your art class, right? You've got a reason to talk to her."

Sean sighed. "Maybe."

Later that day, Sean found himself in the art room, his sanctuary. He was sketching absentmindedly, lost in the details of his drawing, when he heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, he was surprised to see you standing there, a friendly smile on your face.

"Hey, Sean, right?" you asked, your voice breaking the quiet hum of the room.

Sean's heart skipped a beat. "Uh, yeah. Hi."

You held out your phone. "I was wondering if you could help me with this art project. I heard you're really good."

"Sure," Sean replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "What do you need?"

You sat down next to him, placing your sketchbook on the table. "I need some advice on shading. I can never get it to look right."

Sean glanced at your work and immediately saw the potential. "You're actually really good. Just need a few tweaks here and there."

You smiled, a genuine warmth in your eyes. "Thanks, that means a lot coming from you."

As you both worked on your projects, Sean found himself relaxing. You were genuinely nice, and as you started talking more, he discovered you had a great sense of humor. You cracked jokes and shared stories, making him laugh more than he had in a long time.

"Did you hear about Mr. Johnson's car getting covered in post-it notes?" you asked, giggling.

Sean chuckled. "Yeah, I saw it. Who even has the patience for that?"

You shrugged, grinning. "Probably someone with a lot of time and a lot of post-it notes."

Sean found himself enjoying your company more than he expected. Over the next few weeks, you and Sean grew closer. You'd text each other about everything and nothing, your conversations filled with banter and mutual interests. Sean realized how wrong he'd been about you. Despite your popularity, you were down-to-earth and kind, breaking every stereotype he'd had.

One afternoon, you both sat under a tree in the school courtyard, enjoying the rare sunny day. You were telling a particularly funny story about a recent party, and Sean couldn't stop laughing.

"See? You're not just some quiet artist," you teased, nudging him playfully. "You're actually fun to be around."

Sean's cheeks flushed. "Thanks. You're pretty cool too. I never thought I'd get to know the real you."

You leaned back against the tree, looking thoughtful. "You know, people always assume things about me because I'm 'popular.' But I get tired of all the pretending sometimes. With you, I can just be myself."

Sean's heart swelled at your words. "I'm glad. I like getting to know the real you."

You smiled, a genuine warmth in your eyes. "Well, I'm glad you did. And for the record, I've always noticed you. It just took a while for our paths to cross."

Sean looked at you, surprised. "Really? I thought you were too busy with your friends and... well, everything."

You laughed softly. "Appearances can be deceiving. I've seen your art in the hallways. You're really talented. And you've always seemed like a nice guy."

Sean's heart swelled with happiness. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"Hey, anytime," you said, nudging him gently. "So, you want to hang out more? Outside of art projects, I mean."

Sean's eyes lit up. "I'd like that. A lot."

As the sun set, casting a warm glow over the courtyard, Sean realized that maybe, just maybe, this crush wasn't so impossible after all.

[solei-eclipse]

Sending this as an ask cause I don't think tumblr is going to let me send this full thing in the reply of your last post:

Your wellbeing is more important than anything else! It's okay if you miss stuff or are too tired to participate when things happen within the community; it's okay if you're not as fixated on Alien Stage anymore; just because you are admittedly seen as one of the bigger ALNST bloggers on Tumblr does NOT mean that you owe anyone anything. That goes for the OC stuff too. Sorry if this is a bit too personal, but we enjoy seeing you around not because of what you can provide but because you’re you, and we just enjoy your presence; it's as simple as that. We love you Para, and we just want you to be okay.

It's not too personal at all, no worries :) in fact, it was really nice to read when I first saw it. thank you for all your reassurances, you have no idea the wonders it did for me.

thank you for your kindness, im genuinely really grateful for all this understanding. there's a lot of stuff that I've been forced to deal with lately and while the current issue is thankfully over, I know another one is bound to pop up soon. It's okay, though! I'll manage, it'll just take some time. I hope you guys can forgive me for going silent on occasion... I'm still here! Just busy.

Honestly I've been a little more comfortable on this sideblog than on shkingpardigm... that blog has a great deal of followers and while I will always be grateful for it, admittedly I've been more cautious. I always worry about saying the wrong thing, haha... (I find I still do very often though) The rapid growth of that blog was both fascinating and startling. Now that it's become bigger, I've been worried about whether or not my passion for ALNST is enough. I'm not sure when I'll be able to get to all the requests and thoughts shared with me over there, but I really hope to answer eventually because I want to honor the time and effort others spent into writing them. It's just been so much lately, and I can barely find the right words anymore. I almost always feel guilty for posting when I haven't answered them yet, especially since I love reading them and am really grateful to receive them.

It's been a little easier on here, where I've been creating my own things and sharing these creations with others, building our things around each other and such. Thank you all for being so wonderful and kind.

I hope this doesn't come off as me being ungrateful. I've been worried about voicing these thoughts for a while because I know how disheartening it may sound. I love ALNST, I love every ask and submission I receive no matter if it's a few short words or entire lengthy essays, and I love sharing thoughts and creations with others. There's just so much I want to do and so little time, so little energy I have left especially with my degrading health. All I can do at this point is ask for patience and forgiveness. Me bones don't work like they used to, youngsters.... arghhh my back.... my scoliosis..... my debts..

Once again, still here! Always will be (menacingly), just don't be too worried if I disappear sometimes!! That's me going out there and fighting the Horrors™. I always feel such a sense of joy and relief when I come back to Tumblr and see everyone's posts and creations (ALNST or OC or anything, really). It's like a reprieve for me, seeing all the new things that have been posted.

Thanks again for all your concern and support, I want you guys to know that I return it tenfold and hope you take care of yourselves as well. All the same applies to you! Take a step back whenever necessary, always prioritize yourself and know that you aren't pressured or expected of anything. You will still be loved and cared for no matter what! Always take your time and do what makes you happy :) <3

[greypetrel]

26 for Raina and happy Friday!

Hi Mo, happy next Friday to you!

Super-duper late, but I hope you’ll like it anyway. Merrill finds a stray raccoon on the street and bring her home, back in Act 1.

Tis the prompt list.

Must be you.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that."

“Hawke!”

She didn’t notice the twine. She wasn’t noticing much of anything, except that the corner between two walls she was resting in was more comfortable than her bed in Gamlen’s house. Sure it was less crowded and loud, the smell was debatable. She was sleepy, and she knew she shouldn’t fall asleep. But she was so tired…

“Sylaise’enaste, Hawke, can you hear me?” The voice said, as a hand rested on her shoulder and the other patted her cheek, with more force than one should. It wasn’t delicate, and it made her wince in pain.

“Sorry! I’m sorry… Creators, is that blood?”

Ah. Yes, it was. She hadn’t had the time to actually notice much of it, right now her head felt light and she couldn’t concentrate well. She recognized the voice as Merrill. Yes, that was Merrill, she lived in the alienage that wasn’t that distant… Or so she hoped: Raina had been walking towards her house when her head had started to spin and she fell onto her butt, crawling in a corner to rest a little before making the rest of the way. How much time had passed?

Two arms snaked under her armpits, moving her torso forward and up, with a loud huff of complaint. The elf hauled her up, wobblying and faltering under her weight: she was shorter than her, and lithely built, not used to carry heavy weights nor people around.

“Hawke, do you hear me?” Merrill huffed. “Can you… Can you stand? Please…”

“My legs are wobbly.” She said, trying to stand on her own made her head spin, and blood stopped reaching her eyes for a while. “Must be you.”

“Me?!” Merrill squeaked, shifting with difficulty on her side, still sustaining her as she pulled Raina’s arm over her shoulders and grabbed her waist. “What did I do? Did I… You tripped on my twine, didn’t you? Oh, I told Varric it was a terrible idea…”

The concern in her voice was genuine, and in a better moment Raina would have felt a little guilty of teasing her. They haven’t known each other for so long, and even if they were in good terms... But she wasn’t in a better moment, and her thoughts worked funny, and it seemed crazily funny and clever.

“A cute, pretty girl hauling me up? Enough to make a girl swoon, you see.”

“I’m not-” A pause. The world was deliciously spinning. “-you’re joking.”

“I always am. But I do think you’re pretty.” Raina said, light-heartedly. And light-headedly, she didn’t really know where they were going, she just felt drowsy and followed Merrill around: with her help walking wasn’t half that bad. “Do I put you ill at ease?”

“N-no. But it’s better if you keep talking, I guess, your head looks really bad.”

“Ouch!”

“Creators! Not in that sense!”

Laughing hurt, but Raina did anyway, grunting in pain right after. It made her want to laugh more, if only. Caught in a never-ending circle of hurting and laughing, Raina just took her time to tell the elf to please don’t bring her home. Not in that state.

“Why not? I don’t know many healing spells, Garrett and Bethany-”

“My mother would kill me.” She laughed again, grimacing right after. “She hates when I get beaten up and… And please, take me to the Hanged Man, I’ve got some coin in my pocket for a room… Or well, I had them, I think.”

Merrill didn’t say anything at that. She didn’t reply, and Raina honestly was too dazed to really get where they were going, or to check if she did make some sense in her rambling. She didn’t want to see her mother in that condition, that she was sure of. Staying awake was difficult, she didn’t need the extra pressure of her mother fussing over her and complaining because look at where her brilliant ideas brought her.

And indeed, look at where her brilliant ideas brought her: forcing a relatively new friend to keep her awake, struggling under her weight as she tries not to make the pair of them fall to their doom down a flight of stairs. They made it eventually to the little house that Merrill was occupying, and Raina was left there on her own, sitting down somewhere, not that she minded much the place right there and then, as the elf ran outside to fetch… Something. Or someone, Raina didn’t really understand well. The world was spinning too much, and truth to be told the woman was too confused and drowsy to really think for more than following instructions. It could have been five minutes or five hours when Merrill got back with a healer, and they started fussing over her.

Actually, she protested the fuss, complaining as best as she could that it was too much over her and she just needed to sleep it off, she was fine.

“You’re not fine, serrah. You lost too much blood and you should pray your skull hasn’t broken.”

“Lucky, then, my head is very hard.”

“I can see it.”

And indeed, her head proved to be hard enough: the bone wasn’t broken, she just bumped it very hard -she couldn’t recall exactly against where or how, just that it hurt a lot. Alongside that, a couple of broken ribs and a good deal of other cuts and minor injuries around her body. For Raina, it was all in a haze, she just protested a little when they tried to move her, because movement made her head spin and made her nauseous. The worst of the nausea, tho, came from the herbs that the healer collected and started treating to make a poultice. The smell smelled revolting, and as much as she tried to keep it in, her stomach twisted and turned so much that she met with her dinner all over again, turning abruptly to maybe avoid the healer. She felt warm hands on her shoulder and back, patting soothingly, and Merrill shushing her and saying it was all right.

In the dizziness of everything, she felt shame and a pang of blame that was all what Leandra would have told her: and right then and there, she was very prone to give her right.

They patched her up and she let them, too tired and ashamed to put up a fight or a brave face. Her head was bandaged and cleaned, a bad cut on her left ribcage sewn shut, and between the two of them they managed to bring her in the other room, and in Merrill’s bed. Raina protested weakly to that, but she was too weak to put up a resistance. As soon as her head was lain on the pillow, she fell asleep.

---

When Raina woke up, her head was pounding badly, and some noises from somewhere around her made the pressure get worse. She opened her eyes and tried to blink sleep away, rubbing them with a -bandaged- hand to make her vision less blurry than it was. When it cleared enough to recognize her surroundings, the first thing that came to her mind was that she wasn’t in her bed.

All alarm bells in her head started to trill, and she jumped up on the bed… And had to place both hands on the mattress beside her thighs, because her head started spinning wildly, and her stomach painfully twisted on itself with nausea. Someone took her trousers off and she didn’t think she could stand, let alone get away from… Wherever she was, she couldn’t really remember much about yesterday evening, after those thugs caught her as she was walking home.

Daggers. She had to find her daggers and maybe-

“Oh, you’re awake! Thank Sylaise!”

To her right, Merrill popped in the room, moving a cloth that made for a door and smiling at her. Too bright and too happy, her voice was too shrill and only added to Raina’s headache. Nonetheless, it made her relax instantly, as memories from the night before started to return. Slowly and with difficulty, catching some glimpses was like trying to move through mud.

“I wouldn’t exactly thank her, it doesn’t really feel good, being awake…”

“I’d bet!” She giggled, hopping in the room and sitting on the bed beside her. “You were pretty battered down yesterday, you know.”

“Yeah, somehow I figured it out…”

She let Merrill place a hand over her brow -her fingers were very delicate, and pleasantly cool against her skin, and she sighed at the contact. The elf bid her to return to bed and stay there, and even tucked her in again. Raina protested the thing, saying she wasn’t a child, and it made Merrill laugh, batting off her hand and tucking her in anyway. It was no trouble, the elf said, and somehow the human had not in her to deny it any further. Even if the more she was awake, the more memories got back to her about what exactly happened. It was still all fuzzy and cloudy but…

Merrill got back into the room when Raina let out a long, dragged groan, remembering what happened. The flirting and the puking, in particular. She met her with both her hands covering her face -she could feel bandages over the left side of her head, but didn’t bother to check if they were dry or soaked through. One thing at a time, maybe losing more blood would have eased the pang of guilt that she felt.

“What is it, Hawke? Do you feel so bad?” Merrill said, kneeling beside her, a ceramic mug held in both her hands.

“I’m sorry.”

“About what? Here, drink… Tomas said to make you drink when you woke up.” She took one of Raina’s hands in hers and closed her fingers, always very delicately, over the mug.

Raina sat up, carefully and slowly not to pour the content all over herself and the sheets -she just missed to force poor Merrill to change them and wash not one but two pairs of them. And as she sipped slowly the water, not to trigger any more nausea than what she was feeling, she slowly replied.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, I…” She sighed, deeply. Thinking was difficult, and finding words was like fishing in a frozen lake. “… I’m sorry if I puked on your… Tell me it was the floor and not the bed, please.”

“Don’t mention it!” Merrill giggled again. What was that she found funny? “It was no trouble, really.”

“Tell me I didn’t say anything stupid or too forward.” She groaned again, not finding it particularly funny.

“You were very confused, Hawke, don’t worry. It was no trouble.”

“It was. I occupied your bed the whole… What time is it?”

“It’s the afternoon. You can stay here this night as well, I don’t mind. I placed a cot before the fire, I sleep there anyway when it’s too cold.”

Merrill was happy. Too happy and easygoing for Raina’s taste, and… It was weird. She was kind and gentle, but they weren’t acquainted for so long. Was it normal between elves? Was it her? Or…

“Did you need something from me?” Raina asked, turning to look at the elf, suspiciously.

She was there, smiling happily at her, and just frowned in confusion at the question, the tattoos on her brow scrunching up. It was cute.

“What? No! Why would I need something from you?” She thought about it and continued right after “Is it a human custom I’m not acquainted about? Should I… ask for something now or wait for you to get better?”

And now there were two confused people in the room. Well, that was funny. Raina stopped to look at Merrill, Merrill kept her eyes and… And Raina started to laugh, hard and loud. Or well, she would have, if a wound on her side hadn’t started to pull pretty annoyingly with the movement, and her ribs themselves as well. She curled on herself soon after, groaning in pain.

“Hawke!”

“Oh shit.”

“You should rest, Tomas said to let you rest plenty.”

“I should go back, tho.”

“Nonsense! I don’t mind having you around, really! I…” She sighed, looking down and falling back on her heels. “…I like it here, but it feels a little lonely. I never had that much space on my own, you see. In the clan there was always someone around.”

There was something, about Merrill, that tugged at something deep inside Raina. It wasn’t anything maternal, no, that was reserved for Garrett and Bethany. No, it was… Something that relaxed her. Maybe it was how earnest she was, pushing her to be as well. Raina couldn’t say. What she could do, was showing interest.

“Oh? One would assume that living in the wild made up for more space than in the Alienage…”

“Yes, but no.” She giggled. “It’s not very wise to roam on your own in the wilderness. Bears are not friendly. And aravels are rarely occupied by just one person. I shared the one with the Keeper, as her First and with none of us bonded. This house…” She looked around, with a smile. “…It’s more than I would have thought.”

It wasn’t much, by all means. Two rooms and a smallest one for bathing, few furniture that they had found around town and put together as best as it could be, once cleaned. A hearth. The roof was safe, at least, but it wasn’t much. And, come to think of it, it was still more than what Hawke had, all them cramped in Gamlen’s house… Which wasn’t all that bigger anyway, or more densely furnished. Sure, this smelled better.

“Are you sure I’m not bothering you?”

“Not at all!”

“I puked all over your floor, tho…”

Raina grimaced, and Merrill giggled, shaking her head.

“That’s all right, you didn’t do it on purpose. You’ve helped me a lot since we met… I’m glad to help you in turn.”

It was very weird to hear someone say that they did something for Raina without wanting nothing in return. Actually, it wasn’t something she had heard since… Outside her family, maybe since she came of age and started working in the fields and helping the neighbours out to bring some more coins home. Her body seemed to be made of lead, everything hurt and her head pounded annoyingly: Raina still felt some weight lifting from her shoulders, shily and tentatively. She smiled back, a little ill at ease from the novelty, but… Liking it.

“Anytime, Merrill. Just ask. And, I’ll help you wash the sheets, at least.”

“Sure! But now… Do you think you can manage to stay here alone?”

“I’ll be as quiet as a mouse and make a nap. Go, I don’t want to steal your time as well as your bed. I’m big and strong, I’ll survive.” For once, she didn’t feel like making a show out of it. It was weird, too.

“That’s good. I’ll go fetch Anders. And maybe tell your family you’re here.”

And not before assuring that her guest didn’t want some food -she really felt her stomach was closed and didn’t want to be sick again-, Merrill waved her goodbyes, ready to leave.

“Merrill?” Raina called, hearing her pull the lock.

“Yes?” The elf peeked from the door, wide eyes full with worry.

“Thank you, really.”

She smiled, sweet and all too bright.

“Don’t mention it, Hawke. That’s what friends are for.”

Maybe that was it for real. Come to think of it, Raina never had many friends, outside her family. Not anyone that she could fully call friends, with the implicit rule that a big part of her family had to be kept secret as Apostates. Oh, she had her sympathies and trysts… But friends? People who didn’t mind her puking on their floor, offered their bed and knew that both the brother and sister she had left were mages? Maybe, after all, Kirkwall was good.

[throwaway-yandere]

This is a highly controversial question that could probably get me canceled on this website so I need to be careful with how I word this but please, PLEASE, explain to me why you use they/them pronouns? Is it even rude to ask that?? A little bit of background so you can understand where I'm coming from PLS DON'T COME FOR MY NECK JUST YET BUT I live in Eastern Europe and everything is very conservative here, everything, people are still stuck in the 19th century when it comes to the LGBT community and whatnot. I never knew people used they/them pronouns until I first joined Tumblr back in 2017 and for YEARS I was just like "Ah, ok cool, I'll just call them that. I don't really know and understand why people pick these pronouns but I feel bad for not calling them something they don't like." There are always special snowflakes online that use the pronouns to gain some sort of attention (be it good or bad...) but there seems to be a genuine number of individuals that uses them for a reason, not just to gain petty internet attention or whatever. I trust you so that's why I'm asking you, I'm still a little in the dark when it comes to these things, I hope you see where I'm coming from 🥲

JDKAOWOQO OH NO ACTUALLY I FEEL LIKE MY ANSWER IS MORE CONTROVERSIAL HAHAHAH–

and huhu you're not rude at all!!! I totally get what you mean when you get this feeling that people are doing it for attention huhuhuhu

I feel so flattered that you trust me but I have a feeling I'm not the right person to ask this... um... I use they/them mostly because I just wanna set boundaries, that's all hahaha ;;---;;

"... that's probably the most boring answer you could give huh ansytea" yEAH WELL IT'S THE TRUTH AND I'M A BAD LIAR so yeah this is my honest to God reply

First: I don't want to explicitly give away too much of who I am in the internet like what's my real name, gender, country, etc. I feel like it's not safe at all considering this is a dark content blog huhu. The internet's pretty dang scary. Cuz doxxing and all that...

But I think I can understand where most people are coming from when they use they/them pronouns, they just don't feel like they belong in a certain standard of masculinity or femininity– or at least they feel like they exude both sides enough.

Honestly, I'm not sure if I'm nonbinary at all. All I know is that I'm ace and possibly aro. I have a name that's more common to the opposite gender than "what's in one's pants"– and I feel a strange disconnect with the gender that's given to me?

My reasonings are going to be very specific so it wouldn't really apply to everyone who uses they/them pronouns huhu:

I was raised knowing that my parents wanted me to be the opposite gender since I'm their second child haha. I always end up on the other gender's list when the teacher does a rollcall my whole life, and everytime I introduce myself it's always "Oh I thought you're a ____ because of your name!" and maybe I'm just a weakling but it kinda bugs me to the point that I go "... yeah I wish I was a ____ too."

I don't feel like a boy. I don't feel like a girl. I don't know where I belong between those two sexes and there just comes a point where you're tired of just trying to please whatever perception people have of you? Hahaha I am NOT making sense I am so sorry miss ana 😭

I'm from a very conservative country too so there are times I feel like I'm not feminine/masculine enough compared to people my age and (admittedly) I get a bit irritable/hurt whenever people force those standards on me lol. I just wanna live life without all those things, I guess. It's tiring hearing those aunties say you're not good enough and that you should look more aesthetically pleasing to get the attention of the other gender like auntie I'm asexual I don't wanna get hitched–

I'm honestly fine if people assume that I'm a boy/girl online and call me by other pronouns lololol, but will I ever actually admit what's my assigned gender? Probably not unless we're close my comrades and haha unfortunately I used to have a tendency to trust easily. I feel comfortable being called they/them, and that's just how it is lololol

Ajeioaoa ughhhh im so frustrated that my response probably isn't helpful because I can't explain it myself the only thing I can give you is my experiences ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽ yejakeiaosooaoa iM SO SORRY FOR LETTING YOU DOWN–

[mikewheelertmmoved]

Hi! I hope this doesn't come out as rude but...it's starting to sound like you're getting yourself really overwhelmed with all those drafts. Maybe you should consider stop posting starter calls and memes, at least for a couple or weeks? I'm sure that your mutuals will understand, also because this way you'll be able to get back at them more properly and to continue long term interactions, instead of sticking to random one that rarely get anywhere/ rarely get continued. Just a thought!

hello there !! real talk, i wasn’t going to answer this, but this is not the first message of this kind i’ve got, and honestly? i’m tired. so yeah, it might not sound rude but it does rub off the wrong way, and i’m sorry your ask is the one that got caught in the crossfire, dear anon.

i know what my limits are, and if i get overwhelmed with drafts/askbox things, i have no problems doing a little purge and telling my writing partners that i did so. However I’m also a rather slow writer ( i’m not going into details about the reasons of such thing because my life situation & health aren’t things i should feel like i’m forced to share ), and i’ve always been the first to say that if that isn’t someone’s cup of tea because they prefer fast replies, i wouldn’t hold it against them if they’d rather not write with me, it happens, and everyone should be allowed to curate their writing partners circle as they seem fit.

now please, enlighten me about ‘properly continue long term interactions instead of sticking to random ones that don’t get continued’. ( and this is a genuine request )

because every single thread i have is not one that i consider “random” or that “goes nowhere”, even if they are ones born from memes answers, even silly ones, because i always try to bring into my replies bits and pieces that connect into whichever verse i’m writing into, and so in a way they all serve to develop my character and the relationship between him and the other muse. and if then some get dropped by my writing partners or me, well, that happens, it had always happened in the rpc, but i’m always upfront about it.

also the starters i write or the memes i answers, are never random, that’s why it takes me a while to get to my inbox and why my answers are usually longer than they should, because i like to write something that can serve as a good starting point for our muses with a setting that would make sense. 

now let me do a little recap. the last starter call i ever posted was months ago, and never once i thought of posting a new one after i was done with those starters because i knew i had quite the handful of drafts in my hands. so i have no idea where the whole ‘stop posting starter calls’ is coming from. the last meme calls i did was four days ago, and the reason why i posted it, it was because i had a lot of new mutuals and that is the easier way to start interactions if they wished for it.

and now i’m stopping rambling because otherwise i’d be here all morning.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

hi!!! i just came across your account and kind of fell in love with how you do your matchups, with adding little details that the requester wrote into your replies, and i just couldn't resist akjdhfkjashf soooo, could i get one for Bungo Stray Dogs, and another for Attack on Titan? :D

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: heterosexual

zodiac/MBTI: aquarius, INFP-T or INTP (really depends on my mood alkjdhfkjahdsf i've been mistaken for an extrovert, which makes sense - i like talking to people, i just get tired)

appearance: long, dark hair, ranging from a grade-a mess to oh-wait-that-actually-looks-really-nice. i'm half-japanese, half-caucasian, so...? also, 5'9 and slim (??? idk if that's the word, but i'll go with it!). i don't want to sound arrogant, but i like how i look, most of the time ^^

personality: i'm friendly and cheerful with pretty much everyone i meet, though i'm a bit awkward – like, i don't think i've met anyone that i straight up don't get along with, and i can befriend anyone if i have enough time XD i love my close friends very dearly, and my family and dog are some of the most important people in my life. my love languages are quality time and acts of service. like, "i WILL cook a meal for you if you're having a hard time and YOU WILL LIKE IT" kind of acts of service. i'd really like for physical affection to be one of my love languages – it looks so comfortable and nice – but i'm very guarded? physically and emotionally, so that's a problem XD i'm someone people share their struggles with, since i'm apparently a good listener and non-judgemental. i've also been told i make people comfortable. i like feeling useful and needed, so it's a bit like a symbiotic relationship akdjshaksjdf i make an active effort to be as genuine as i can, because i think that's really important. i'm very perceptive and analytical, alongside being a creative person. i like to think i'm pretty funny ;w; generally, i'll put up a front of being outgoing-ish to people, but my friends know that i get tired really easily, and i'll just sit there and zone out when i can XD i'm a bit neurotic, but that comes with being the eldest daughter <3 i get irritated when people aren't as efficient as i am, and i low key have no self-esteem, but oh well ;-; oh gosh i rambled i'm sorry T^T

likes: rain, cooking, producing music (like chill synth stuff) and listening to music, reading and writing hehe ((consumer and producer lmao)), roadtrips, rock climbing, drama (like, acting drama)

dislikes: conflict, drama (the gossip drama akjdfjksdhf), regret (weird thing to add, but i just really don't like the feeling ;-;), packed schedules

hobbies: archery, learning guitar, producing music and writing (again XD)

i really hope this isn't too much, length-wise ^^; i didn't want it to be too vague, then i got a bit carried away...anyway! i hope you're having/will have a good day!!

Hi Anon! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I hope you like your matchups!

In Bungo Stray Dogs, I match you with...

Junichiro is a lot like you in the sense that he cares deeply about his friends and family and, while he can be awkward at times, he’s good at socialising and making friends.

Conflict is unavoidable at the Armed Detective Agency but Junichiro tires his best to keep it to a minimum, especially when you’re around.

Enjoys going on road trips with you. He likes being able to get away from work for a while, as well as spend quality time with you.

He’s quietly supportive of you, especially regarding your lack of self-esteem. Junichiro thinks you’re great and he wants you to know that.

At the same time, I feel like Junichiro struggles with self-confidence as well so you can support each other. It’s a long road building up self-confidence but you’re there for each other.

In Attack on Titan, I match you with...

This was a close call between Jean and Connie but I think Jean would be a better fit for you. You just get along better.

If you thought Junichiro was supportive of you, Jean dials that up to the max. He cares about you so much that it almost hurts him knowing that you aren’t confident in yourself.

Jean would love cooking with you. He’s a huge fan of that domestic stuff so cooking with you while there’s some music playing in the background is one of his favourite things to do.

He finds you comforting, which is a big thing for him. Comfort is a rarity in the world of Attack on Titan and he’ll do what he can to make you feel comfortable as well.

I feel like Jean would enjoy rock climbing with you as well. He’s pretty fit so he can certainly keep up with you. It’s a good way of keeping fit and spending time with you.

[charliedawn]

Imagine Alice coming back to you after being away for a long time

As soon as you are home, you don't notice the shadow standing in your living room as you put your groceries on the table. You still have your earphones on and Alice doesn't want to disturb you. Finally, you look up and freeze on the spot as you see the woman of your dreams, standing there, as beautiful and surreal as you remembered her. You stand there for a few seconds, wondering if you are dreaming ? However, when you see her smile at you and open her arms wide, you don't waste any time before running towards her to embrace her.

" You're here ?! You're really here ?!"

You don't let her answer before kissing her passionately. Oh..How you've missed her tender lips and lovely golden eyes..She reciprocates before taking a step back to look at you with a small smile.

" Yes. I'm here. And I'm never living your side again."

You gently cup her face and she smiles tenderly at you.

" I missed you, my flower.."

You smile happily and nod before guiding her towards the couch so she can tell you everything that happened to her during her absence. You never met the Cullens, but you knew Bella and she usually came to you for advice, as she was the only one who knew about your relationship..

" So, did Edward succeed in staying away from Bella ? I saw her at school today, she looked so sick. She was in an even worse state than me. Are you going to stay ?"

Alice smiles through your questions without interrupting you and leans towards you, as if she is going to tell you a secret.

" Edward was in a very bad state too..He still thinks he can control love. But, he doesn't have the gift to see what is ahead, and I know that it is inevitable. We don't control who we fall in love with. We can just accept it. Those last few months have been a torture for me, and I'm so happy to be back.."

However, you nervously twitch your fingers together and she senses your uneasiness. She sneaks her arms around your neck and whispers.

" What is it ?"

You sigh, of course she would notice..

" I..I know you said it wasn't the time but..I still want to you to give me the bite, and meet your family. We could spend more time together, and I wouldn't be forced to stay hidden."

She frowns and takes a few steps away from you before looking at you with seriousness.

" We already talked about this. It is not time yet.."

You run your hand through your hair frustratingly and ask impatiently.

" Then when ?! I'm tired of waiting, Alice. It's great when you visit and all, but..I want to meet your family and follow you wherever you go. I love you."

Her eyes soften at your last words and she takes your hands in hers gently.

" I love you too. But..it's too soon. You know that Edward and Bella are already a big deal. Do you imagine the shock for my family if they knew that not one, but two Cullens are in love with a human ?"

You know that of course..but it doesn't mean the pain in your chest leaves whenever Alice is away. You take her in your arms and she snuggles against you like a cat.

" If only I wasn't so afraid of what the Volturis would do to us if they knew..I'm not afraid of dying, not really. But, I'm afraid they'll take the person that I care about the most away from me.."

She tenderly strokes your chin and gives you a sweet kiss on the lips before leaning back down.

" There is nothing I cherish more on this earth than you."

You close your eyes and gently run your fingers through her hair, something you came to get used to as it always seem to calm you both. She suddenly stands up and looks at you with a bright smile.

" But, we could go shopping together ?!"

You groan and bury your face in your pillow. You knew she would ask..Goodbye hoodies and normal pants..

" Noooo..You always end up buying me things that I never wear.."

She giggles excitedly before taking you by the arm to make you stand up as well.

" Oh, come on ! The cowboy-hat was cute !"

You roll your eyes playfully before answering her sarcastically.

" Yeah..I especially liked the part with the two very glittery sparkly antennas.."

Alice can't help but laugh at the memory, your shoulders had been covered for a long week afterwards. She still had the hat actually. However, she stares at you with big puppy eyes and you can't help but agree.

" You're a little demon..You know that ?"

She only smiles mischievously before winking at you and dragging you to the car waiting outside.

"~I know."

She replies in a sing-song voice before you both enter the car.

When arrived, you can't hold Alice back as she drags in every single shop she wants. She squeals nearly at each article while showing it to you with stars in her eyes.

" This ! It would look so good on you !"

Don't misunderstand, Alice has incredible taste. She is a fashion queen. But, for some reason, when it concerns you, she can't help but find everything good on you. Absolutely everything..

" Get out!"

" No!"

" Why not?!"

" Because I look ridiculous!"

" Oh come on! I'm sure it's not that b..!"

You suddenly open the door and get out with the t-shirt saying "Sorry can't. My girlfriend said no". She has to stop herself from bursting out laughing while you roll your eyes dramatically.

" See ?! Ridiculous."

You repeat, but she only grabs a t-shirt and goes in a nearby dressing room to get changed as well. When she gets out, she does a superman pose with her fists on her hips and a large proud smile on her face while you read what's written on the t-shirt.

" My boyfriend is a badass.."

She smiles even wider before taking you by the hand to the cashier. This is how you end up wearing those shirts all day, walking hand in hand in the mall. However, suddenly, Alice freezes and you quickly notice that it's because a group of teenagers that are staring straight at you both with frowns on their faces. You quickly understand that they must be in Alice's class. You try to reassure her by squeezing her hand slightly, they would probably ignore you and get on their way..However, you hadn't planned on one of them to actually approach you. A pretty fair-haired girl with very pale skin. She smiles and says hi to Alice that is obviously embarrassed.

" Hi Alice. Who's this ?"

She asks before turning towards you.

" Hi Nina..This is Y/N. A friend."

Okay. That stung. But, you force yourself to swallow your pride and shake the hand of Nina. However, you quickly see the girl's eyes do the math when she notices the t-shirts and your hands, still intertwined.

" So, little Alice found herself a friend then ? How nice.."

The way she tells it makes you think that she doesn't think any of it the things she said. You glare at her, but do not let go of Alice's hand. You even take a brave step forward and look down at the woman.

" Yeah. I'm her friend. And you are ?"

She only chuckles before looking up and down at you with obvious disdain.

" Just a girl that doesn't like the two of you together. Can't you see that she's a freak ?! Come on. Hang out with us instead.."

You ark an eyebrow and almost laugh at the proposition.

" Can't you read ?"

You show the t-shirt with a small smirk.

" My g..friend said no. Now, could you just back off ?"

But the girl stays put and only crosses her arms. You then see her gang circling you and one particularly muscular teen stepping forward to put his hand on her shoulder defensively.

" Everything' alright, babe ?"

He looks at you intentively and decide to hold his gaze. You couldn't fight vampires, but you could still beat a human..or you hoped. You take Alice's hand again and she squeezes yours lightly. She couldn't fight, you knew that. This is why you had to protect her. However, after a few seconds of stare-contest, Nina only smiles, as if satisfied, and only shakes her head negatively.

" Yes, everything's fine. I'll leave you two be."

To your surprise, she smiles genuinely at Alice before saying.

" He's a good guy."

Alice quickly comes back to her usual joyful self once the girl says those words and she then drags you towards the car before you can ask what that was all about. As soon as you're in, you want to ask her if she's okay, but she only jumps in your arms and buries her face in your chest. You are surprised for a moment, but finally wrap your arms around her with a worried frown.

" Hey..Are you okay ?"

She only nods before looking up at you with her bright golden eyes sparkling and a huge excited smile.

" I had a vision..They're going to love you ! I'm ready !"

You let out a sigh of relief before tightening your hold her and letting out a small laugh at the sudden news before asking.

" So..should I wear this shirt for the meeting day ?"

She seems horrified by the proposition and shakes her head vividly.

" Oh no ! In the Cullen family, everyone is fashionably styled ! We'll just have to find you a suit or something and..!"

You kiss her sweetly to stop her from getting too fat in her thoughts and she chuckles before melting into the kiss.

"..Or we can just do that.."

You laugh and kiss her even more until you need air. Suddenly, someone's voice makes itself heard just outside the car.

" Friends, huh ?"

You both look outside and see Nina standing there with a big smile on her face and her phone in hand. Alice gets out of the car and you want to get out as well, but Alice smiles reassuringly at you, assuring you that there is no problem. You can feel the tension. However, you are taken aback when they start smiling at each other. Suddenly, Nina looks straight at you with an eyebrow raised and asks with a certain apprehension.

" So, it's him ? He's the one ?"

You don't understand until Alice nods and turns towards you with a big smile.

" Yeah. He's the one, Rosalie.."

Rosalie ? You don't understand right away, but you manage to connect the dots pretty quickly. Pale face. Golden eyes. Rosalie Cullen..This meant that..You open your eyes wide at the realization and get out to see the rest of the group she was with a couple of feet away.

" Wait..You're the Cullens ?!"

They all seem to be amused by your reaction as you awkwardly try to tame your disheveled hair and hide the t-shirt by zipping your hoodie.

" Nice to meet you all..I thought I would be a bit more prepared but, like that's fine too."

You say politely, trying to hide your embarrassment and some of the members laugh while others only smile understandingly. They each present themselves and you finish by whispering to Alice.

" You could have told me..I thought there were some bad people from your school..You didn't even have any vision, did you ?"

You ask knowingly and she only smiles widely before kiss you on the cheek.

" Nope. I just thought it was the moment..You're right, I've kept you in the dark for too long. I also wanted the reaction of my sisters and brothers before presenting you to my parents.."

You sigh loudly, understanding now why Alice had dragged you away so quickly, before looking at the group and asking with a hopeful smile.

" So, did I pass the test ?"

It's the muscular man that steps forwards and answers you with a wide smile.

" With flying colors, man. You're very cool. I especially liked the part when you stared at me dead in the eyes. I could totally snap your neck but, I admire the courage. I knew at that moment that you would protect Alice with everything you got. We needed to know that you would be willing to protect our baby sister, as human or vampire. So, you pass. It's a yes for us."

You smile when he extends his hand towards you and you chuckle while shaking your head at the mad theatrics.

" Me who thought Alice was exaggerating when she told me that you were pretty intense.."

" Well, better get used to it. Once the Cullen clan approves, you are family."

Rosalie says with a small smile and they all nod in agreement.

" Do you love her ?"

A guy who you think is named Jasper asks while eyeing you suspiciously. You look back at Alice and smile widely, knowing the answer and confidently replying.

" With all my heart."

They all smile and Alice suddenly yells with a fist raised in the air.

" Well, what are we waiting for ?! Carlisle and Esme are waiting for us."

You open your eyes wide as the whole gang seem to kidnap you in their family van.

" W..Wait! I thought I would change first !"

You scream while trying to get out of their grip, but they don't listen to you and Emmett even laughs.

" And miss Carlisle's face when he sees you ?! Ah ! Not a chance !"

Emmett says while pushing you inside. Alice tries to reassure you by giving you a quick chaste kiss on the lips.

" Don't worry..They'll love you. I know it."

Welp, looks like the Cullen family adopted you..Congrats. You passed the test. After such a long wait, it is finally time for your great adventure.

This was a request from @werewolf-himbo. Hope you like it !

[jjkclub]

before you go

pairing - hoseok x reader

genre - angst

trigger warnings - major character death

word count - 2k words

(based on the song 'before you go' by lewis capaldi)

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"y-y/n.." you heard hoseok say as you locked eyes with him. your throat tightened and your eyes welled up with tears at the sight before you. you and your boyfriend hoseok have been dating for 2 years now and you were happier than ever. since he and the boys had a comeback approaching, he used to come home late, completely tired and wanting to do nothing more than just sleep. 

knowing that he was over working himself unconsciously, you made it a habit to remind him to eat, take breaks and sleep at the right intervals. since your shift ended much earlier today, you had managed to stop by hoseok's favourite restaurant and pick up food for you both as you made your way into the bighit building.

the guards and staff knew about your relationship with hoseok even though it wasn't revealed publicly, which made it easier for you to enter the building without any issues. your first guess had been that he would be in the practice room but when you stumbled upon jimin in the corridor, he smiled at you and informed you that he was alone in his studio.

as you thanked him and made your way over to his studio, you thought you heard some noise coming from inside. you walked closer to the door and found it locked. knowing hoseok's password by heart, you punched in the code and entered the room, your jaw dropping at the sight in front of you. 

your boyfriend hoseok was sitting on his chair with another woman on his lap. he had his hands wrapped tightly around her waist as her hands were curled around his neck, both of them kissing each other passionately as you dropped the bag of food you were holding.

hearing the sudden sound from near the door, hoseok quickly turned around, panting after the make out session when he realised who had just entered. he watched your eyes tearing up as he felt nothing but guilt running through him. 

"fuck, i can explain i swear!" he said, running his hand through his hair in frustration as he pushed the girl off his lap and made his way towards you. "wait…" you heard the girl say which caught your attention. "this is your girlfriend?!" she shrieked out as you saw her guilty expression. she walked up to you hurriedly after she gave hoseok a disgusted look.

"i'm soo sorry, i didn't know that he had a girlfriend. trust me, if i had known, i wouldn't have even gotten close to him. i'm extremely sorry." she said genuinely as she bowed, tears lining her eyes as she realised what a horrible thing she had done. knowing that she was innocent and that it wasn't her fault, you said, "it's okay. i understand. can you please excuse me for a minute?" "of course." she replied as she scurried out of the room. 

once she left, hoseok quickly defended himself, "y/n i promise i didn't mean to cheat on you. it was just one kiss." "JUST ONE KISS?! hoseok i trusted you! i thought you were busy preparing for your comeback, not shoving your tongue in another woman's mouth! you absolutely disgust me!" you yelled out as tears streamed down your face, your head pounding painfully as you looked at the man you once trusted more than anything.

"i'm leaving. i'll have all my things out of your house by tonight. have a nice life." you spat out coldly, each word laced with venom which brought a lump in hoseok's throat. he loved you but he couldn't remember what urged him to kiss that girl. in his state of confusion, he began to think you were over-reacting. as you turned around to leave, he grabbed a hold of your wrist, pulling you closer to him as he shut the door behind you. 

"yah, what the fuck do you think you're doing?! don't you dare touch me. let me go!" "y/n stop over-reacting goddamnit! it was just one fucking kiss! just forgive me this one time, i swear it won't happen again!" at his outburst, you felt anger surge through you. 

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING JUNG HOSEOK?! IT WAS JUST ONE KISS?! HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF YOU FOUND ME MAKING OUT WITH ANOTHER GUY?!" you screamed at him, yanking your hand out of his grip as turned around and opened the door "don't you dare come near me. we're over. i never want to see you again." 

you rushed out of the room, tears running down your face freely as you reached the exit of the building and ran out. you didn't know where you were going or where you wanted to go but you knew that you didn't want to be anywhere near him. unbeknownst to you, hoseok was running behind you, trying to grab a hold of you and beg for forgiveness. as you kept running, you didn't notice the signal change colour as you ran across the road. 

you started to feel dizzy from all the crying and exhaustion but you pushed yourself to go to the other side of the road. deciding to call your bestfriend and tell her that you wanted to stay over, you quickly turned to pull out your phone when you noticed a bright, blinding light shining on your face. you raised your hand up to your face to shield your eyes from the harsh light and before you could process what was happening, you faintly heard a voice calling out to you before everything turned black.

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

hoseok paced around the small waiting room, crying as he waited for the doctor to come out and give him he news. the news that you were fine and you'd live. a few minutes prior, hoseok saw you get hit by a car, your once warm and bubbly self now lying cold and lifeless surrounded by a pool of your own blood in the middle of the road. at the sight, hoseok felt his soul getting sucked out of his body as he started screaming and crying for help, desperately carrying you in his arms to try and save you.

he managed to get to a hospital quickly but little did he know, he was too late. as you were quickly placed on a stretcher and rushed inside, hoseok was asked to wait while the doctors tried to keep you alive. in the span of minutes, the rest of bangtan had arrived at the hospital to keep him company as paparazzi flooded them, trying to figure out why the biggest boy band in the world were in the hospital. 

the tension was thick in the cramped waiting room. hoseok was now seated on the floor in a corner, holding his face in his hands as he cried out, repeating the word 'sorry' over and over again. namjoon and yoongi had tears in their eyes as namjoon couldn't stop his hands from shaking violently. you were like a sister to all of them. you had been there to support them since the beginning and the thought of never seeing your cheerful face around the dorms was terrifying. 

jimin and jungkook were crying almost as badly as hoseok. they loved you a lot, some might think they loved you more than hoseok did which made it harder for them to process your accident. you were always protective over them, despite you being younger. you always spoiled them and played games with them which made things hurt a million times worse.

jin didn't speak a word at all. he simply couldn't bring himself to. in his eyes, you were the most beautiful, kind hearted and loving person that they had ever encountered. you were always willing to help him with any sort of chores and never said no to anything which he admired about you. he had his eyes shut tightly as he muttered soft prayers over and over again, hoping that you'd be fine.

unlike everyone else's hard state, taehyung was beyond confused at why everyone was crying and waiting at the hospital. when he first heard the news, he couldn't help but laugh. ah, our y/n is back to her silly pranks again, he thought as he entered the car, thinking all of them were going to go for practice or for dinner. when they stopped infront of the hospital, he sensed something bad was happening. now, as he looked around at all the member's crying faces, he couldn't help but burst. 

"yah! what the fuck are all of you crying for?! is it because of that prank y/n is pulling? are y'all that dumb, hyungs? she's just started her stupid pranks again! why do we have to come to the hospital for this?..." his words slowly fading as he took note of the hard expressions on all of their faces. "it is a prank… right?" he asked once again, this time, feeling unsure of his words. 

"taehyung-ah…" yoongi started as his voice started shaking. "it-it's not a prank… y/n has seriously met with an a-accident." taehyung felt his eyes watering at yoongi's words. "hyung, stop it. it's not funny at all. STOP LYING!" he yelled as he felt a few tears roll down his cheeks. "WHY THE HELL DO YOU THINK WE ARE AT THE HOSPITAL THEN, HUH?! WHY DO YOU THINK HOSEOK'S SHIRT IS COVERED IN BLOOD AND NONE OF US CAN STOP CRYING?!" yoongi shouted at taehyung and started sobbing uncontrollably, falling to the floor as he wrapped his hands around his knees and rocked himself slowly. 

taehyung still couldn't believe it. how could his precious y/n have met with an accident? he wondered as he finally started to believe his hyung's words. he started to cry, gripping his hair in his hands as he hoped this was all a dream. he couldn't take it anymore as he stood up, running towards the door of the room you were getting treated in as he started banging on the glass, unable to control his emotions anymore.

after a few minutes, he slowly slid down to the floor, and continued crying into his hands. minutes felt like hours as all of them waited for the doctor to come out and update them about your condition. finally, the door creaked open as everyone's eyes darted towards the door, hoseok rushing to his feet as he stood infront of the doctor. he looked like an absolute mess, his hair was all over the place, his eyes red and swollen from crying and his lower lip bruised badly as he couldn't help but bite them in frustration.

"i'm really sorry to say this but, she's gone." the doctor stated with a crest-fallen expression. the exact words hoseok had been praying not to hear was being told to him, almost mockingly as he burst out in tears again, his heart aching terribly as he pushed the doctor aside and walked into your room. he saw your face and couldn't stop yelling out 'i'm sorry''s as he held your hand tightly. the same one on which he wanted to put a ring and claim you as his forever. 

he could barely recognize you. your usually warm hands were stone cold and your skin was pale which made him feel a pang in his chest. despite the deep gash down your neck, he noticed your lips turned upwards in a slight smile as he cupped your cold face in his hand, crying hard as he felt his world crash around him. 

he felt guilt running through his veins. would none of this happened if i hadn't cheated on her? would she still be here with me if i had held her closer, just for a moment longer? he wondered as he knelt near your bed, his throat going sore as he kept crying and screaming out to you, hoping you'd wake up and tell him that you were okay, you forgive him and that you both could have your happily ever after now but he knew that it was impossible. 

maybe he doesn't deserve to be happy, he thought as he curled his hands into fists, hitting his forehead repeatedly to try and wake him up from this nightmare he was living in cause he couldn't live with the guilt and pain. 

you had died for a mistake he had made, and he could never forgive himself for that.

[consumedkings-archive]

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic. chapter twelve: the desire to devour

word count: ~10.3k rating: m warnings: naughty language, .000002 seconds of spiciness (but not really), john goes "we were vibing, right? we had the vibes? right?" for like the entire last half. also mentions of self-harm and elliot's previous trauma. notes: hi friends! i hope you enjoy this chapter! this is going to be the last sort of in-between chapter before we really get into it, and from here it's going to go faaaaast. i had a lot of fun writing it and feeling out these different dynamics. not to mention john being a gigantic fuckhead (but like what is new, lmao). special thank you as always to my wifey and beta reader @starcrier for your impeccable eyeballs, and also to @vasiktomis and @shallow-gravy for lending their eyes as well because i did fuss a bit with this chap. i would be lost without y'all. thank you everyone for your love and support, esp with comments! it really fills my heart so so much to hear back from you, and i am always in the market for friends so do not be afraid to reach out to me <3

She is twenty-five.

She’s twenty-five, and it's her first full day of work. Or, it was; now, she's sitting in the Spread Eagle listening to Pratt talk about everything that's happened while she's been gone, because he'd said, c'mon, let me take you out tonight. He grins a boyish, toothy grin at her—the same kind that's mimicked in the multiple school dance photos her mother covets—and tries to sound nonchalant when he asks how she liked being in the city.

It's hard not to think about how this is the first place she had ever met John Seed, then-Duncan, and how it feels like it's spoiled the whole place for her.

Elliot redirects her attention as best as she can to what it is Pratt is saying. He's fishing for information. They've always been each other's safety net, the person they can fall back on when all else fails. School dances. Picking partners in class. Graduation walking buddies. He'd driven her to the airport when she left for the Academy, even. But even though she knows he's trying to figure out if she's still a safety net, Elliot can't disguise the way thinking about Mason makes her feel—disgusting—so she brings the beer bottle to her mouth and takes a swallow.

The result is her face scrunching up. Pratt laughs.

“Geez, Elli, slow down,” he says, his smile crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “Bet money you're still a lightweight. When'd you start drinking beer, anyway?”

“I didn't,” she manages out around the taste, swallowing thickly. “I just won't let your money go to waste.”

He shrugs, as if to say, could, if you wanted, and swivels on the stool a little. He wants to press again—she can tell—but seems to have the good sense not to, instead busying his mouth with his own beer.

“Mama said Whitehorse let you right on,” Elliot says casually, trying to ignore the twinge of envy in her voice.

Pratt shrugs again. “He's known my dad a long time.”

“Known my mom too,” Elliot replies, dry.

“Yeah, well.” Pratt pauses, and sounds a little smug when he says, “Just because your mama likes me doesn’t mean I don’t know how she is to everyone else.”

“Likes you, does she?”

“Obviously,” the brunette replies confidently. “She still keeps all those photos of us. Remember senior year, she had all of her gal pals over when we were getting ready for prom—”

“Ugh.”

“—took us about 45 minutes before we were exactly where she wanted to take pictures—"

She rolls her eyes. Pratt grins, and then bumps his shoulder against hers. He says, “Aw, c’mon. Not so bad, is it? Having your mom like me?"

Elliot can feel the flush spreading under her cheeks. Not because she's embarrassed, or flustered, but because the beer sitting in her stomach feels rotten, and because Pratt's looking at her with the same kind of eyes he did before—always, always there's the before—and she doesn't know how to say I'm not her anymore, I'm not that girl, I'm different and changed and I don't know how to go back.

It doesn't matter. If Pratt can see it on her face, he doesn't let it show; just pats her shoulder and pretends he doesn't see the way she flinches from his hand swinging into her peripheral, pretends he doesn't notice the way she covers it up by swallowing another mouthful of beer she doesn't want to drink.

“Hudson’s really glad to have you back,” he says after a minute, when she doesn’t confirm nor deny that it’s not so bad knowing her mom thinks he’s a fine enough person. “Been talking about it nonstop.”

A smile creeps its way onto her face. “I’m glad to be back. With her, especially.”

“Yeah, you two always been thick, huh?”

She nods, swallows more beer, and Pratt rolls his eyes and snags the bottle out of her hand.

“Don’t keep drinking if you don’t like it,” he tells her, and then finishes it off himself, setting the empty bottle on the countertop with a grimace. “Can’t have people telling Whitehorse I bullied the probie into drinking.”

“‘Probie’,” she scoffs. “I could kick your ass.”

“Bullshit!”

“Could’ve done it before, Pratt.”

“Now that is lies and slander.”

Elliot only grins at him, the only time since coming back sans Joey getting her from the airport that it’s been a genuine thing; lopsided and a little sloppy but a grin nonetheless. Pratt finishes his own beer now, coughing a little into his fist before he blurts out, “I’m glad, too.”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“That you’re back,” Pratt clarifies. “Y’know—nice to have my friend back. Didn’t like sendin’ you off to the big city, anyway.”

He doesn’t know. He can’t know, because her mother won’t talk about it and Joey would never divulge what it was that had brought about her speedy return—but even though he doesn’t know about the way she has to swallow back a flinch every time he waves his hand in her peripheral, or the way the smell of beer on a man’s breath makes her stomach clench with anxiety, or how her hands are so fucking cold all the time because her heart hammers in her chest, the way he says that (Didn’t like sendin’ you off to the big city, anyway) feels a little like vindication.

“S’okay,” she murmurs, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Came back in one piece, didn’t I?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The scent of roses wafted over her in waves. The sound of bathwater murmuring against the sides of the porcelain tub rippled each time she moved, each time she used the grip of her hands against the lip of the sides to sink herself under; her knuckles went cold with the ferocious grip, but when she went under she was submerged in quiet once more. Blissful, serene, quiet; just what she wanted.

Elliot pulled herself out of the water. Downstairs, she could hear her mother’s voice, spiking frantic even through the floors and the two closed doors that kept her separated.

“...years, Mr. Seed, I have lost years of my life agonizing over what she did to herself...”

She dipped below the water, closing her eyes. No sound; no shrill noise; just the heavy, bloated static that existed underneath the surface of the bath. Only her and the baby.

It occurred to her, absently, that she needed to start picking out names for the baby. Now that they had a guess at what the gender was, they’d have to decide about a name; not only a first, but a middle, too—the last name—

“...find it quite intriguing, actually, that the second she comes back to me after being involved with your kind that she’s got all this—this—”

Oh, don’t say it, Elliot thought tiredly, closing her eyes.

“—tear, just wretched wear and tear, Mr. Seed, don’t you? Don’t you find that intriguing?”

John was sitting down there, enduring a thorough verbal lashing, and she hadn’t even asked him to. She’d said, I don’t care if she thinks it was me, and he’d guided her upstairs and cupped her face and kissed her, long and open-mouthed, and swept his thumb over her cheek. Now, Elliot could hear the sound of his voice—calmer, empathetic, like just knowing that her mother was hysterical was giving him some kind of control over himself—but that he was speaking in a normal tone meant that his words didn’t come through quite so clearly.

She heard the sound of her mother saying, “I suppose you’re going to tell me why you’re not bothered in the least?” just before she dipped under the water again.

What was she going to name the baby? Did she even have an idea of what kinds of names she liked? Exhaustion pulled at the edges of her attention; she thought, I’m too tired to come up with a baby name, and gripped the edges of the bathtub harder. More fierce, more firm; grip and pull, maybe spill the entire bathtub over, tilt the clawed feet until it hit the tiled floor and the porcelain broke and the rose-scent water flooded the bathroom, her room, the hallway.

Then they’d have to leave. Then they couldn’t stay, surely, in a house flooded with rose water.

Fingers brushed over hers where they’d gone white at the edges of the tub. She pulled herself out of the water to find John sitting there, knelt at the side of the tub—not unlike the way he’d sat back at her mother’s house in Hope County, when she’d drank too much in the bathtub and said that he could mark her.

Because that’s what it had been. As much as she had wanted it, as much as she had enjoyed it, no matter what John said—he had been marking her as his. Like that Oscar Wilde poem.

The same sin binds us.

Elliot brushed the water from her eyes and settled her head back against the tub, regarding him. He looked less bothered than she thought he would, having sat through her mother’s grilling and interrogation—though he did look like he wanted to say something, like maybe it was sitting, burning into ash in his mouth, the way she could see the flex of his jaw and the way his free hand clenched and loosened.

Ignoring the nagging feeling that he wanted to ask her what she’d been doing under the water, and the even more bothersome knowledge that she had, at some point, become painfully aware of his body language, Elliot said, “We have to think of a name.”

John blinked at her. Less than an hour ago, he’d been saying Of course I’d come for you, I love you, with or without the baby I love you, and she’d been sobbing into his arms and clinging to him.

He said, “And a middle name.”

“I’m trying not to think about it.”

A smile finally ticked the corner of his mouth, his fingers uncurling hers from the edge of the tub. Reluctantly, she let him.

“Your mother’s upset.” He paused. “She still wants you to play nice for her Christmas party, but she’s upset.”

“I know,” she replied sullenly. The despair of her shame, which had at once both overwhelmed her and hollowed her out, had dissipated in the wake of her indignation. What would she know, that vicious thing inside of her said, replaying the way her mother’s expression had crumpled. What would she know of our suffering? What would she know of our pain? ‘Wretched wear and tear’, like we haven’t been torn up for ages, like she didn’t throw us to the wolves and scoff in disgust when we came back bloodied and battered.

She wanted to be angry, really angry, but like most things that had to do with her mother, Elliot found herself more exhausted than anything. Scarlet had always found it impossible to comprehend the scars she’d given herself, had always claimed to feel disconnected to the ways Elliot had searched out meaning and comfort.

Absently, Elliot wet her lips and let her gaze flicker up to where John had perched himself beside the tub. He looked mighty pleased with himself, having finally gotten his words out. I love you, he’d said, palm flat against her window, I love you, with or without the baby.

And John, I want a home with you.

And John, Marriage is hard work, but I know you’re just the woman for the job.

And John, No way baby, I’m fucking it for you.

Blood rushed through her head, thunderous. John was saying something to her, but the words felt distant, and far away, and everything felt like it was underwater when she moved—not just the parts of her submerged in the bath, but all of it, the air too-thick and dragging on her skin and pulling her down slow as molasses. She blinked a few times as she disentangled their hands and reached for the towel, but John pulled it off of the hook first.

She watched him. She watched his mouth move, and his brows pull and furrow together at the center of his forehead, and the way his breath rose and fell in his chest, pushing and pulling the Sloth scar scratched across his sternum. Just like me, dream John had said, gripping her blood-covered hands, you’re just like me.

His voice, muffled and bogged down by the blood rushing through her ears, quirked up at the end. Elliot’s eyes darted back to his, and she asked, “Sorry, what?”

“The water’s cold,” he replied, waving the towel a bit. “Aren’t you getting out?”

“Yeah,” Elliot murmured. She felt hollow. Her fingers itched. She wanted—

John caught her hand as she stepped out of the bathtub, steadying her while her free hand gathered the towel up against her front. Goosebumps prickled across her skin, the lukewarm temperature of the bath still lingering; his fingers interlaced with hers, and she used it to steady herself.

He was close. They were close. A part of her resented it—that she let him be so close to her, that she let him kiss her and fuck her but mostly that she let him hold her when she cried, miserably, that she wanted to go home. Because after everything, after all of it, Hope County still felt—

She closed her eyes. Of course it still felt like home. Joey was there; now she knew Pratt was, too.

And among all of that, if she waded through the weeds spreading in her mind, if she hacked and cut them away, there was John.

“What are you thinking about?” John murmured, his cologne washing over her, their noses brushing. Her eyes fluttered open and she let out a little breath, that wanton little creature in her head chanting it over and over. There’s John, there’s always been John, nobody will love us with this much red in our ledger. No one but him.

“You,” she managed. Her head felt swimmy, the words coming out of her mouth sounding like a stranger’s—thick with want. John’s eyes flickered up to hers, having fixed on her mouth.

“If you want something, Ell,” he rumbled, the pressure of his fingertips against the back of her neck guiding her forward just a little but not all the way, “you only—”

Elliot leaned forward and kissed him, her hand lifting so that she could curl her fingers into his hair, the towel slipping to the floor. His body had tensed, like he wasn’t expecting it—like he was waiting for something else—and she thought about the way he’d kissed her with Kian’s blood in her mouth, the way he’d been just rampant with desire, the way the way the way—

Her teeth caught his lower lip, a little sharper than she’d intended, and his hand gripping her wrist tightened and he moaned, and she felt that same little thrill as before surge through her. It’s my magic, too, the itch in her fingers subsiding when she dug her nails in and pulled his hair a little, parting her lips against his; John leaned into her, crowding her up against the counter in front of the mirror, the hand at the nape of her neck threading into damp hair.

“Ell,” he said against her mouth, his voice rougher than before and hands planted on the counter on either side of her, “what are you doing?”

She murmured, “Stop talking,” and kissed him again, fingers clumsily working through the buttons on his shirt—her voice came out even but everything else about her felt wobbly, unsteady, craving craving craving the way it felt to have him begging her. Anything, to feel in control. Anything, to feel whole. Dig, and dig, and when you hit the bottom you keep digging some more, right?

What do we do with grief, right?

Burn and erase the image of her mother’s disgust and horror at seeing a part of her she might actually like, scrape it from her mind, dig her trenches deep deep deep and hunker down where she could feel safe, where she could feel strong; soon she would be home and—

And John’s teeth snagged her lower lip in retribution, sparking violent and red-hot behind her eyes with pleasure lighting her neurons on fire.

“Off,” she ground out against his mouth, pushing helplessly at the shirt she’d only halfway unbuttoned. The brunette grinned; his hands resumed her work, and she instead devoted her attention to the belt at his waist, yanking at it as John’s face dropped to her neck, hot breath fanning across her skin teeth dragging against her pulse point to pull a moan out of her.

There was a split second between John discarding his shirt on the floor and gripping her hips to lift her onto the countertop, his mouth seeking hers out again as she wound her arms around his neck. She had never been completely naked and felt not vulnerable at all, felt more in control—but she did, now, when she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled and he moaned her name, a little frantic, Ell, Ell, hellcat, he said into their kiss, let me let me, greedy and wanting as he glided fingers up along the inside of her thigh.

He tensed, like he was going to drop to his knees, and she kept her hand in his hair and said, “Don’t.”

“Hm,” is what he replied, “pulling on my hair, ordering me to take my clothes off—”

“I’m about to tell you to shut up again.”

“—but won’t let me eat you out?” John grinned against her mouth, the scent of his cologne—expensive, stupid shit, but it never failed to feel like it was overwhelming her senses—washing over her. “What is it, baby? Want me to say please?”

Yes, something wicked inside of her said, John’s eyes lifting from her mouth to hers, narrowing playfully. Yes, I’d like that, I’d like to hear you say it like that.

“I know you,” he purred. He dug his nails into her hips, a sound—the wanting kind—trying to crawl its way up her throat. “Know exactly what you want from me. Yeah? So, Ell, won’t you please—”

There was a sharp knock at the door, a pause, and then: “Elliot?”

A near-silent laugh billowed out of John, stifled into her neck when her mother’s voice came through the door. Elliot’s eyes fluttered; her fingers, knotted in John’s hair, loosened and smoothed down the back of his neck, the intoxicating tension relaxing just a little. Heat had coiled in the hollow of her chest, spreading warm fingers at the same leisurely pace that John’s hand drifted up to her hip, his mouth finding the hollow of her jaw.

“I can’t believe her,” she muttered. “Yes?”

“Miss West is here, with her brother.” Scarlet’s voice was tight. “Returning your vehicle.”

Fuck. Elliot sighed, her eyes closing for a second while she tried to gather her thoughts. It was difficult to focus with John’s breath on her neck and his hands on her skin and that fucking cologne—and boy, did she not want to dwell on the fact that he’d shown up with barely anything but somehow also remembered to pack his stupid fucking cologne. But there was a different, special kind of warmth that spread through her when she realized that Sylvia was coming to check on her.

“Hair’s wet,” she called after a moment, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Fine.” There was another pause, and then her mother’s voice, scathing even through the door: “Ensure you are put together, Elliot.”

John murmured against her neck, “So no hickeys, then?” and she swatted his shoulder, rolling her eyes and sliding off of the counter. He seemed reluctant to let her disembark, thumb sweeping the slope of her hip before he dropped down—just far enough to plant a kiss on the gentle slope of her tummy. It was—sentimental, unseating her with incredible ease.

And then he ruined it by saying, “Your mommy won’t let me fuck her filthy, but I hear the second trimester throws a woman’s hormones through the roof, so we’ll see how long that lasts,” to her bump as he grabbed the towel from the floor to offer to her.

She snatched it from his hands, wrapping it around herself. “Don’t say that shit to the baby. You think I won’t end your life?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he offered, head cocked to the side. “Leaving the hickeys, anyway, I mean. Well, and the second part too. About sex. Not the murderous part. Actually, you know I find it—”

Choosing to ignore the latter statement, Elliot narrowed her eyes. “You’d risk Via’s opinion of you dropping so severely?”

“You know what they say.” John spread his hands, almost in a gesture of helplessness; though she knew he was far from it. “Old habits die hard.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“She’s killing all of my angels!”

Faith’s voice was sharp, piercing; Isolde’s fingers fluttered over the bridge of her nose to fend off an impending headache, pen held poised above the notepad where she’d been writing down her thoughts but had paused in time for the girl’s interjection. She couldn’t stand a messy page—ink smears, jarred letters. Unacceptable.

Two hours ago, she’d had Jacob drive her out to where the service was strongest. A flood of emails and texts from her family had been waiting to overload her phone. Her dad, things are looking poorly, where are you?, her sister, I’ve been trying to reach you for days.

“Jacob,” the blonde plunged on, interrupting her train of thought, “you have to do something. They’re being—gutted like fish!”

“You should have locked them down,” Jacob told her. “And you’re not the only one losing things.”

“I put—” Faith cut herself off, clearly taking a moment to compose herself before she pitched her voice low and said, “I put just as much work into them as you do into yours.”

The red head’s voice bloomed with annoyance when he said, “Oh, did you?”

“No fighting, please,” Joseph called from where he sat next to her. His voice was even, elbows rested on his legs and fingers interlaced in thought. “I know this is stressful. But you must keep your faith in God.”

“Santi told me that—whoever she is has been leaving their corpses all around!” Faith’s voice pitched high with distress, now, sweeping around Jacob to come to where they had sat, big doe eyes wide. “We have to do something. Please, Father—I don’t want our people to wonder if they’re going to be next.”

Joseph paused, looking pensive for a moment; Isolde thought he might have been trying to figure out how he wanted to phrase something, but before he could speak, Isolde looked at Jacob and said, “You were going to hunt her down anyway, weren’t you?”

The eldest Seed’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you start with me too, Sol.”

“Get some fresh air,” she replied curtly, “go for a drive, clear your head. Eliminate a problem. You’ve been wearing a hole in the floors anyway; put that energy into being productive.”

“P—” Jacob’s voice spiked, incredulous. “Excuse me?”

He was agitated. She could tell—Pratt, and the phone call with the deputy in Georgia, and the Hunter on some kind of one-man rampage. But more importantly, Isolde thought, Jacob was agitated because there had not been a single conversation between him and Joseph since their argument.

Well, not even an argument. Just a lashing. A public one.

Isolde scooted her chair back from the table that had been set up at the front of the chapel, setting her pen down and stepping away. Her hand landed on the crook of Jacob’s elbow as she passed, and though he made a noise that implied disdain, he followed—not without shrugging her hand off by the time they got to the front doors of the chapel, leaving the other two to talk in low, murmured voices.

“You have got to stop letting this get to you,” she hissed.

“Nothing is ‘getting’—”

“Listen to me,” Isolde interjected. “I’ve been keeping as close an eye on the news as I have been on you. Things are—” She paused, mouth twisting around the words. “There is no room for you lot to be bloody fighting with each other. Do you understand me? This has moved far past needing to prepare PR and build a legal defense.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed. He looked suspicious. “So why are you still here then, Sol?” he asked.

The words burned insult in her chest. Why are you still here, stinging fresh and hot, because it was a fair question. It was the most fair question. Unlike any of these people, she had a family outside that she still loved. Her sister, and her parents. She should have told John and all of the Seeds to go fuck themselves, to enjoy the end of the world, while she went to be with her family.

But she wasn’t. She was here. Doing—this. Finding fresh new ways for Joseph to connect with his people to keep their morale high, keeping the infighting at bay to make sure they looked like a united front to everyone, second doomsday cult included.

“My parents will take care of Avery. You know they’re close with—government,” she replied after a minute, shaking off the unease. “And I told John that I would.”

He snorted. “John says jump, you ask how high?”

“No,” she bit out, “I say jump and you kiss the fucking ground I’m standing on because I cobbled together what the fuck is left of your congregation.” Before Jacob could say anything, Isolde added, “My hands are full, Jake. Do not add to my pile.”

Dark brows furrowed, his mouth thinning in disdain. He clearly wanted to say something. But true to his nature, Jacob straightened back and settled himself before he said, “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine,” he reiterated with his eyes narrowed. “I’m going to the Veteran’s Center.”

“That doesn’t sound like where we heard about the killings happening last,” Isolde protested, eyes narrowing.

“But she was there,” he replied. “Or someone was. Someone was there enough to steal my files.”

“Your—” Isolde snapped her mouth shut, sucking her teeth as she glanced back at Joseph and Faith; haloed in the dim lighting of the chapel, she could see them looking back at Jacob and herself expectantly. She wondered how much they could hear, from there.

Turning her attention back to Jacob and pitching her voice down in volume, Isolde hissed, “I don’t think prioritizing files is the best move right now.”

“Thank you,” Jacob idled, “for your input.”

“Fuck you.”

“Have fun,” he added, opening the door and letting in a waft of biting, cold air, before gesturing to the Book of Joseph on the table that she’d had her nose stuck in. All the better to make Joseph’s sermons hit home harder, after all. “You know—with your light reading.”

Isolde narrowed her eyes, watching him trudge down the steps for just a second before she said, “Jacob—”

“Yes, Isolde?”

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Don’t get shot.”

For a moment, he looked almost surprised at her words—but it was only a moment before he said, “Don’t worry, I’m taking Vidal. He makes a suitable meatshield.”

“God, he’s a talker.”

A tiny ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Jacob’s lips, before he said, “John and the deputy should be making their way here any day now.”

Isolde grimaced. “I was there for the phone call.”

“Are you going to leave?” Jacob pressed, expression stiffening again. “When he does?”

She paused, clearing her throat and shifting on her feet. I should, were the words that wanted to come out of her mouth. I should go. I only came down here because John wasn’t here. I should go, and get back to my life, and maybe get to my family and try to stay out of the crossfire and—

After a heartbeat, she said, “I don’t know.”

Jacob shrugged, as if to say, see? Told you, though to what he could be referring to, she had no idea; she only knew that she didn’t like the way he swung around and sauntered out of the chapel, leaving her alone in the tepid warmth with Joseph and Faith’s eyes on her in favor of the blistering cold outside. Snow had continued to dump throughout the day and night, and had only just let up recently; the members of Eden’s Gate—those who had survived the Family’s relentless assaults, and those that had been pulled from the bunkers—had been tirelessly shoving pathways, only to have their work tidily undone each night.

Fingers brushed the palm of her hand. Isolde startled; she glanced back just as fingers interlaced with hers to be met with sweet, bright eyes and Faith’s adoring attention planted on her.

“It means so much to me,” Faith murmured, “that you would help. Not just me, but all of us.”

Soli watched the blonde for a moment, trying to gauge. The physical closeness was not something she was accustomed to; carefully, she disentangled their fingers, skin prickling with unease. When she glanced up, Joseph’s eyes were on them, on Faith’s fingers falling from her hand but skimming the inside of her palm in a lingering touch of affection.

He was always doing that. Watching. Watching, and waiting, and pinning each movement and gesture and thought and word out perfectly like the wings of a butterfly, just the color he liked and just the shape.

“Don’t thank me,” Isolde replied, mustering a smile and brushing the hair from her face.

“It’s my job.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey, Miss Honey, John!”

Wyatt’s cheerful voice broke through the late-afternoon chill; the sun setting early, people’s breath coming out in puffs of smoke. It all felt oddly normal, given the circumstances of the morning and the way she’d forgotten to call Sylvia once she got home, and that her friend had fished up a reason to come by the house and make sure she hadn’t—

Well.

Still, if there was any remnant of the morning in Sylvia’s heart, it didn’t show in her face, and it certainly didn’t show in Wyatt’s. Instead, both blondes beamed at her, radiant, the second she came out with fuzzy, fresh-from-the-blow-dryer hair and swaddled up to her chin in thick fabrics to fend off the cold.

And, truthfully, to hide the bump. John had reminded her of it, and even though the moment had been a...good one, it had also reminded her she hadn’t expressed this truth to Sylvia or Wyatt. As John closed the door behind her and jogged down the steps,

“Howdy,” Ell greeted, albeit a bit awkwardly thanks to her stuck-somewhere-nowhere-sort-of-accent. “You didn’t have to drive it back all the way out here, you know.”

“Sure we did.” Wyatt chirped. “Wouldn’t be very neighborly of us if we let it sit and the battery died out, now would it?”

“No,” John demurred after a moment even as Elliot’s cheeks went warm, “I suppose not.”

“You all recovered from this morning?” Via asked cheerfully, purposefully avoiding the actual question. Elliot shifted on her feet. John’s hand skimmed the small of her back, and even through the layers of fabric, it felt warm; she wondered if this was what it would have been like for them, had their life been normal. Had John been truthful with her from the get-go. Now, with everything laid out between them—the lies unearthed and only the brutal, unapologetic knowledge that they wanted each other, in one way or another—it felt like they might have been normal. Sometime, somewhere, someplace else.

It was still hard to swallow, all of it. The lies and the now-truths and the knowledge that she did, in fact, want.

“Oh, yeah,” Ell replied faintly. “Took a bath and...” She tried for a smile. “Decompressed.”

“That what smells so good?”

“Y’all get that tired from dress shoppin’?” Wyatt tsked, having pulled his coat out of the jeep and started to pull it on. He grinned at her and skillfully dodged a side-swipe from Sylvia; he had a good foot of height on her—and Elliot—so it wasn’t difficult. The siblings fussed for only a moment before Sylvia managed to fetch the Jeep’s keys from Wyatt’s coat pocket and held them out to Elliot, puffing.

She was in the middle of saying, “Your keys, madame,” when John’s head tilted and he muttered, “Now what is this?”, drawing her attention to the end of the drive. A police cruiser made its way slowly down the drive, carefully pulling up behind the Jeep.

Not beside it. Not further up toward the garage, not on the other side of the four of them chatting. Behind it. Blocked in.

Sheriff Pritchard stepped out, shuffling a little as he adjusted the black, fur-trimmed jacket on his shoulders and closed the driver side door. He’d come alone, which made Elliot certain he wasn’t here to arrest her—and what a ludicrous thought, that he might have considered it a possibility, because the mere mental image of Pritchard grabbing her arm and keeping his eyes in his head made a hysterical kind of laugh want to bubble out of her.

Not me, not me and not my baby, that thing inside of her said, lifting its hackles and baring its teeth when Pritchard began to saunter over. Not my baby.

“Afternoon, you two. And Wests,” Pritchard greeted as he drew closer. He’d earned himself a curious murmur from Sylvia. “Havin’ a little shindig out here, Miss Honeysett?” Elliot opened her mouth to respond, but he lifted his hands quickly in defense. “‘M sorry, forgot myself. Mrs. Seed.”

It caught her off-guard, sucked the air right out of her lungs. It was one thing to hear her mother say John is Elliot’s husband, to hear her say John is my son-in-law, but it was another entirely to hear herself referred to as Mrs. Seed. It had never, ever been that she was John’s wife, except out of his own mouth, but now—

John seemed eager to engage with Pritchard, because he said, “Something that you needed, sheriff?”

“Yes, actually. Believe it or not, I ain’t in the business of drivin’ out to the rich part of town just for shits and giggles,” Pritchard replied coolly. “Your mama home, Elli?”

“Probably resting,” Sylvia offered, smiling politely. “We just finished dress shoppin’ for her Christmas Party not but an hour ago.”

“Yeah,” Pritchard rumbled, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “Heard about your little trip to the boutique today.”

John asked irritably, “Do you need to smoke that right now?”

Elliot swallowed thickly. Her lashes fluttered, eyes desperate to close; the warmth that had flooded her face now felt like it verged on feverish, threatening to make her head swim again. This was bad. This was bad-bad, chop her hair off and run run run again bad, the kind of bad that made a girl change her name and burn her birth certificate and make sure that nobody would ever be able to find her again.

“I don’t,” she began, “think mama’s feeling up to visitors right now.”

Pritchard eyed her, taking a puff of his cigarette while completely glazing over John’s pointed question. “Imagine not. You know, you been a hot topic of conversation lately, Mrs. Seed. Gotten loads of questions about you. Lady from out of town, Federal Marshals. I don’t like folks sniffin’ around my town, you know, especially not the fuckin’ Feds, but it’s gotta make me wonder.” The smoke curled out from his nose, the smoke of a lazy, self-righteous dragon wafting around her.

“Sheriff,” John continued tightly, clearing his throat, “you’re going to need to put that out.”

“We’re outside, Mr. Seed. You ain’t ever seen someone smoke a cigarette outside?”

“Do you make a habit of smoking around pregnant women?” John snapped viciously, and oh, she thought, oh, I didn’t even think of that, because her brain was too busy kicking into overdrive and parse out the absolute confirmation that Federal Marshals were asking after her and strange women, too. Oh, I didn’t even think about the baby.

And then Sylvia said, eyes wide as saucers as she laughed, flustered, “Oh, John, that’s very kind of you, but I’m not—” and her eyes landed on Elliot, and she blinked rapidly.

Wyatt was looking at her, too. Big, big eyes, surely having not only learned that she and John were married but that she was also pregnant in the span of only a few minutes. At least, Elliot didn’t think Sylvia would have divulged that information, and if the shock he was clearly trying to cover up in his expression was any indication, that gut feeling was right.

No, she thought, no, this is not what I wanted. This is not what I wanted at all. It wasn’t his to tell, it wasn’t his to tell, it was mine, my choice, mine alone.

Her gaze snapped to Pritchard. She said, “It’s time for you to leave.”

Pritchard lifted his eyebrows. “That so? Well, good for me I ain’t here to talk to you, missy.”

“Get. Off. My. Property,” she bit out through her teeth. “Scarlet isn’t taking visitors, and I’ll cut the decay out of my own teeth before she makes anything close to the time of day for you.”

Now, his eyes narrowed and the cigarette sat between his fingers, still burning amber at the end. “Excuse me?”

“And tell the fucking Feds whatever you want,” she snapped, fingers curled tightly around the keys until the metal edges dug into the nooks and crannies of her hand. “But whatever you do, get the fuck out of my driveway, sheriff.”

Something flickered in the corner of her vision. John started, “Ell,” and his hand went to her shoulder, but she jerked back from him before he could make much more than a brush of contact.

“Don’t,” Elliot snapped at him, her voice wobbling and the tears—shameful tears—welling up and burning, “touch me.”

“Alright, okay,” Sylvia murmured, “Elliot and I are gonna go inside, and John can—”

“Ain’t here to talk to Mr. Seed,” Pritchard drawled venomously.

“If you’re asking questions about Elliot,” Sylvia replied calmly, taking Elliot’s hand with a firm squeeze, “I can imagine there is no better person to ask than her husband, don’t you think so, Sheriff?”

Pritchard’s eyes were squinted into poisonous little slits, and he took a long drag of his cigarette.

“Mrs. Honeysett won’t be any type of cooperative if you get her up now,” Wyatt chimed in, eyes flickering nervously to Elliot—perhaps both because of the news and because of her outburst. But she didn’t have time to think much about it, because Sylvia was tugging her out of the cluster of folks, ginger and reassuring even as her brother plunged on, “I mean, sheriff, come on—you know how women can be when they’re gotten up too early, let alone they’ve been shoppin’ all day—”

And Pritchard said, “You want I should put my cigarette out now, Mr. Seed?” as Sylvia opened the door,

and John replied with a slick, charismatic kind of venom, “No reason to anymore, smoke to your heart’s content,”

and the door clicked shut behind her and Boomer scampered out from where he’d been snoozing under the dining table.

She had to leave.

She had to go.

She had to get out.

Federal Marshals and strange women asking after her, and now her only two friends in the whole fucking world—

(well, not entirely true, since we still have Pratt, isn’t that right? Isn’t that right, Elli?)

—had just seen her almost go fucking bananas on an officer of the law, had watched her demand he get the fuck out of her driveway for wanting to ask her mother about her, had seen her.

“Hey,” Sylvia said, “you’re alright.”

I’m not, she thought, dropping the keys into the crystal bowl by the door, smearing red against the glass. Her hand stung. She reached with the good, unmarked hand for Boomer absently. His cold, wet nose brushed against it, and he whined, feet tapping against the wood as he bumped her for her attention. I won’t go. I won’t fucking go. I won’t pay the price for what they did to me, what they made me into.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out abruptly, her voice coming out tight. “Sorry that I didn’t—um, tell you. About the—”

“It’s okay,” Sylvia told her quickly, “it’s alright, Elli, it’s not a big deal. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Elli, she said, without knowing what the nickname meant. Elli, Sylvia said, it’s alright, and Joey, right now we need to leave, Elli, and Pratt, geez, Elli, slow down, an affectionate nickname saved only for folks who considered her their friend. Sans Pritchard. Fuck Pritchard.

“Lots of people wait to tell,” Via continued, one hand coming to rest on her shoulder and jarring her out of her thoughts, which were quickly and rapidly devolving back into the urge to march outside and ensure Pritchard was obeying her command. Out out out, something vicious inside of her demanded, we want him out we want him gone.

Elliot said, “Yeah, you’re right,” but she felt far away—not lost, not gone from herself, but thinking. She could pack fast. She could pack fast, and John had brought barely anything, and they could leave right now, her mother none the wiser. They could leave now and be gone and Cameron Burke would have to—

But are we sure it’s Burke? Are we sure it’s Burke and not someone else, come to haul your ass to a fucking psych ward, for what you did in Hope County?

For what you did?

No. She wasn’t sure. She could only hope it was one singular Federal Marshall on her tail, and not an actual piece of the government body. That was all.

But whoever it was that was asking after her—strangers, government officials—it didn’t matter. That old mantra had kicked in again; something has to be done, the same kind of calm before the storm that she’d felt when Joey had been killed, something has to be done.

Something has to be done and I’m going to have to be the one to fucking do it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pritchard dropped the cigarette into the snow and stamped it out with his bootheel, his eyes fixed on John. Sylvia had rushed Elliot inside, but he didn’t think that had been purely necessary—only in the instance they had wanted to keep Pritchard out of a blood bath. Elliot hadn’t been checking out, trying to keep herself together; she had been angry, and he’d had half a mind to let her say and do exactly as she pleased to the man now standing in front of him in the cold.

“She always been that volatile, Mr. Seed?” the sheriff asked.

“Not undeservingly,” John replied tartly, his eyes narrowed. “Did you have specific questions, sheriff, or did you just come by to terrorize my pregnant wife with your theoretical judgment of her soul?”

“More your speed?” Pritchard replied, lifting a brow.

“Pardon?”

“Heard about you Seed boys,” he continued coolly, “and your...” He gestured with a calloused hand vaguely, looking for the right word.

John smiled, with teeth. “Before I grow old, if you don’t mind, sheriff.”

“Proclivities,” Pritchard elaborated, “for religion.”

Fucking Burke, he thought, with no absence of venom; fucking Burke can’t resist the urge to try and fuck up my life when he’d be better off trying to find a place to hunker down for the end of the world.

“We’re red-blooded Americans,” John idled coolly, “freedom of religion goes hand in hand with that.”

“Mr. Pritchard, you wanna get that car started?” Wyatt cut in abruptly, glancing around like he thought maybe the rest of the patrol might be rolling in any minute. “It doesn’t sound like you’ve got any questions for Mr. Seed.”

“That’s sheriff to you, boy,” he snapped. And then, after a heartbeat, he fished his keys out of his pocket and said, “I s’pose I got all the information I needed, after all.”

“Mmhm.”

John had turned back to the house, spotting Elliot and Sylvia through the front window, when Pritchard announced, “You make sure Scarlet gives me a call when she’s recovered from your wife’s antics, Mr. Seed.”

His gaze returned to the sheriff, narrowed. “Certainly, Sheriff Pritchard.”

“But if I don’t hear from you, no worries,” the man continued, opening his car door, “I’ll make another special trip out here.”

“Goody.”

John flashed another grin when Pritchard’s eyes flickered over him. Wyatt said, “Have a safe drive,” and Pritchard slammed his door shut, his cruiser’s engine roaring to life before he began to slowly back out and make a u-turn to head down the long driveway again. There was a moment of silence, stretching between himself and Wyatt that he didn’t feel particularly inclined to break—after all, Wyatt had been taking liberties with Elliot that he shouldn’t have been—before the blonde finally broke the silence.

“Congrats,” Wyatt said after a minute. “About—uh, the baby, I mean. I didn’t know!”

Ah, he thought, feeling a strange little surge of pride at the way the man across from him shifted on his feet with discomfort, and that’s why Elliot’s mad I brought it up. Her friends didn’t know.

Well, it was better this way, after all. He wouldn’t have taken it back even if he’d gotten the chance, knowing what he did now.

“Thank you,” he replied amiably. “It’s certainly a blessing.”

Wyatt’s mouth twisted for a moment, looking like there was something he wanted to say specifically and didn’t know how to say it without foregoing social niceties, but the sound of the front door opening caught both of their attentions.

“Wyatt, you gonna stand out here like a lemming all afternoon or what?” Via called. “Get the car warmed up, you caveman.” She took a few steps down the front stairs and looked at John. “You’re wanted inside, Mr. Seed.”

A very polite way of telling him that Elliot, perhaps, was in the mood to throttle him with her bare hands. Though he didn’t really see the harm in spilling the news—perhaps with Via, sure, but Wyatt? The cowboy? Like that was ever going to be anything.

“Thanks for your help,” John said, clapping Wyatt on the shoulder before he made his way to the front steps. Via hadn’t moved. In fact, her normally polite expression was eerily cool—whatever amicable, feigned interest she had manicured for him in the past seemed to have evaporated in the wake of Elliot’s own fury.

As he neared, he said, “Something else you needed, Miss West?”

Via’s eyes narrowed. She looked at Wyatt, now inside the car, and then back to John. “You must think I’m mighty dumb, don’t you?”

John lifted an eyebrow inquisitively. “If you think I instigated that little outburst on purpose—”

“What I think,” Via replied, “is that you know exactly what she’s capable of handling. Just because you didn’t do it on purpose doesn’t mean you weren’t thinking of letting her physically assault a police officer.”

His easy-going expression flattened. Sylvia, and her seeing, the same kind of uncanny people-reading skills that Joseph had, too. Seeing his delight at knowing that Elliot would have taken on a man a foot taller than her, pregnant, if it meant keeping him away from the baby, if it meant keeping herself out of the grip of a greater power that wanted her in a psychiatric evaluation.

“I want to like you,” Via continued, taking the steps until she reached the bottom, “and I thought maybe you were here to make a real effort. But it seems like you’re the same person you were before, John Duncan.”

The name sent a jolt of red-hot anger flushing down his spine, filling him up suddenly with a sort of molten rage that only the reminder of his adoptive parents could have inspired in him. When Via went to move past him, he snatched her elbow, holding her in place.

“And where,” he ground out, “did you hear that name, Miss West?”

“It’s called a web browser, John,” Via replied coolly. “You ever heard of Google? Imagine how many John Seeds there are in Hope County, Montana. I don’t need to tell you that the articles regarding you and your brothers, though a bit old, are unflattering. And all I want you to know—” She paused, arm still in his grip. “—is that we’re aware of each other, and that I don’t want anything happening to Elliot.”

“Neither do I,” John replied tightly, “and I especially don’t want someone digging trenches where there’s not a war zone.”

Via regarded him with an even gaze for a moment, glancing back at the car where her brother sat, before she murmured idly, “Kindly take your hand off of my arm, John.”

“Ellliot’s already aware of the any of the information in those articles,” he continued lowly, “just so you know.”

“My point, John,” Via replied casually, “is that I know, and I can—and will—deal with it as I see fit. Now, you gonna take your fuckin’ hand off of my arm, or are we going to have a problem?”

He watched her for a moment—just long enough to consider the dopamine rush of killing her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and slamming her face into the top of the porch, doing something, anything to ensure that Sylvia West was not capable of messing up anything that he was doing—and then he planted a big smile on his face and dropped his hand from her arm.

“Careful,” he said, louder now so that Wyatt would hear, “it’s icy.”

The blonde didn’t respond. Instead, she brushed her hand absently where his had been, as though to brush herself free of his touch, and picked her way across the driveway and to the truck idling just on the other side of the jeep.

Well, that would be one less problem to deal with, in the end.

John made his way inside, closing the front door quietly behind himself and taking a moment to gauge. Just to see what was going on. The house itself was quiet, and Boomer’s little footfalls were nowhere to be heard, and Scarlet wasn’t sipping her vodka in the living room—so.

So.

So.

Taking a breath, he started up the stairs, turning into the hall to find Elliot’s bedroom door halfway ajar. He paused in the doorway; she was rifling through drawers, pulling sweaters and long-sleeved shirts and jeans and sweats out and dropping them into a duffel bag, furious little exhales occasionally coming out of her.

“I was told I was being summoned,” John said, Elliot’s attention razor-sharp and snapping to him immediately.

“Pack your shit,” she said briskly, “we’re leaving.”

He blinked. Taking a step inside, he glanced at Boomer—perched protectively between himself and Elliot—and said, “I thought we were waiting until after the Christmas party?”

“You’re not fucking deaf, John, you heard Pritchard,” she snapped. “The Feds have been asking about me. The only reason they don’t know exactly where to look—whoever it is—is because Pritchard’s a fucking asshole and likes to be as obstinate as possible.”

“And if we sprint out of here,” he replied, “you’re just going to draw their attention.”

“It’s what Pritchard wants.” Elliot zipped the duffel bag shut and then brushed past him into the bathroom, gathering up her toothbrush and toothpaste and the sleeping pills. “For me to be gone. He’ll piss off if I go. And there’s no way he’s going to put up a big fight to cozy up to the government.”

“Elliot.” John watched her furiously gathering things up, and then when she came by again he caught her with his hands. “Ell, just slow down—”

“Stop,” she bit out, “stop telling me what to fucking do, John, and—I told you not to touch me.”

He lifted his hands from her, but not far enough that she could duck past. “Are you that mad about Sylvia and Wyatt knowing you’re pregnant?” When she didn’t answer, and instead hauled the bag over from the other side of the bed to be close to her so that she could dump the collections from the bathroom into it, he sighed. “I didn’t know you hadn’t told them, but I don’t understand what all of the secrecy is about. The baby isn’t—”

“I felt normal!” Elliot replied sharply, her voice pitching a little higher now, and John heard the wet wobble in it too—the way the timbre of her voice thickened and rounded out with the threat of oncoming tears, her cheeks flushed with anger and maybe shame and pain, too. “Okay? I felt—I f-fucking felt normal, for once, and it was enough that Sylvia knew you and I had been—that we’re married, which I don’t even want to dig into right now, but it was another to be like—yes, the father of my fucking child, who I’m actually married to even though I didn’t want it, is here and oh, by the way? He’s part of a cult. Yeah, a fucking doomsday cult. I’m carrying the child of a doomsday cultist.”

“How was I supposed to know?” he demanded. “How was I supposed to know that you didn’t want Sylvia and her brother knowing you were pregnant? You never said. And what does it matter?” And then, feeling the petulance well up inside of him: “I know it probably felt nice, to have Wyatt giving you attention—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked, incredulous. “You’re really pulling that now? So, what—you dumped the news because you wanted to make sure my friend found me as off-limited as possible?”

John crossed his arms over his chest. “I know this may come as a shock to you,” he said, feeling the tension peeling apart behind his eyelids, “I really didn’t want Pritchard smoking near my baby.”

“My baby.” Elliot jammed her finger into his chest, just above his heart, her words vicious. “It’s our baby, or it’s my baby, but there isn’t a single fucking universe where the only person this baby is beholden to is you.”

“He’s,” John corrected, tartly. “He’s our baby. And at the end of the day, whether you like it or not—”

“Have you ever,” she cut in over him, biting the words out between her teeth, “done anything for me that wasn’t for you too?”

Watching her, the words sat sticky in his chest. His instinct was to say, of course I have, but that wasn’t true. Of course it wasn’t. And he wasn’t going to pretend like it was, either—because he wasn’t ashamed that everything he had done had been for them, that if Elliot wasn’t his then there would be no point in it, that it was a zero sum game where he either had her or he had nothing.

He said, evenly, “No.”

Elliot looked unseated by his honesty. She swept her fingers across her forehead tiredly and turned back to her bag. “Then do me a favor and pack your shit so we can go.”

John sighed. “Don’t you think—”

“John,” she bit out, “I am making an executive decision.”

“Alright, Ell.”

“And—”

John had turned to the door to go gather what few of his belongings he’d had when Elliot cut herself off, drawing his eyes over his shoulder to her again. She looked unwell—stressed, feverish, her hands buried into the duffel bag maybe to hide the shaking and her face flushed and her brows furrowed together.

“Thank you,” she managed out after a minute, “for being honest. For once.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pratt brushed the snow from his hair, teeth chattering as he waded through knee-deep snow out towards the water. It had been three days, and Helmi had told him to meet her out there—how she was going to get past the compound’s security, Pratt didn’t know, but he also thought it probably was best not to dwell on the things that Helmi would do (and could do) to get where she needed to be.

Which is why he found himself less and less surprised to find her standing at the edge of the water, in the middle of the night, swathed up to her jaw in dark, heavy fabrics. The only part of her that wasn’t covered were her hands; the closer he got, he could see she was turning a smooth, dark rock over and over in her hands, passing it between them as she watched him come nearer.

“You remembered,” was how she greeted him, most of her face cast in shadow thanks to the high position of the moon behind her. Pratt shivered and jammed his hands into his coat pockets.

“Yeah, well, kinda hard to forget,” he replied. “Considering it’s been looming over me for the last few days.”

“Poor thing,” Helmi agreed, not sounding sympathetic at all. “Did you call her?”

Pratt paused, clearing his throat. There was something that didn’t quite sit right with him, knowing that he had called Elliot not out of a cry for her help—not really, anyway—but because this other cult wanted her. This cult, which had tore its way through Hope County splitting and gutting its residents, wanted her. And Helmi didn’t seem keen on telling him why.

“I did. They just got word that she and John are on the road now,” he said after a moment. “What, uh—do you want her for, anyway?”

Helmi quirked a brow at him, the corner of her mouth tilting upwards. “Shouldn’t you have asked that before making the phone call, if it was going to bother you?”

A little lick of shame and embarrassment crawled red-hot into his cheeks, and he scoffed, turning his face away. “Well, you said you wanted her alive. Can’t say the same for the Seeds.”

“She’s carrying John’s child,” Helmi pointed out. “You think they’d kill her still?”

Pratt grimaced. It was still hard to stomach—the idea that Elliot was with John. Or had been, at one point. It didn’t sound like things were going great, and he could only imagine why. Still—

Still, he thought there was a lesser of the two evils, and Helmi sounded like it. Maybe not the others, but Helmi.

“They don’t have a problem killing babies,” Pratt replied after a minute. “What are you going to do, once she gets here? They won’t let her leave, and they definitely won’t let you in.”

Now, the blonde grinned—pearly teeth in the dark of the night, surprisingly satisfied with herself. “Big one’s pissed at me, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Well, you know, Faith too. You've been killing her angels.”

She shrugged. “I’ve got a plan. You know exactly as much as you need to know right now. Are you eating?”

The question came so quickly that Pratt didn’t have time to register the oddness of it, replying on automatic the same way he had been with Arden’s consistent, gentle pestering: “Yeah, I mean—don’t have much of an appetite, but...”

His voice trailed off and he glanced back at the woman. Her head was cocked and her eyes were fixed on him expectantly. “What?”

“Eat,” she told him. “Take advantage of as much as you can. And most of all, listen. Any information you can get will be helpful.”

Pratt’s throat felt a little tight. He kept thinking about the way Jacob had grabbed his shoulder, laughing when he’d insulted the woman doing the heavy lifting for Joseph—grinning like a fucking wolf, like he was going to be dinner, next.

He managed out, “He’ll kill me. If he suspects. He’ll take—everything, from me.”

Helmi planted a hand on his shoulder. The gesture made him want to flinch, but he bit back the urge, and he thought maybe she’d seen but didn’t say.

“He already took everything from you,” she replied lightly, “and do you know what that means?”

The dark of her gaze was intense, piercing even in the late night; it made it hard to look away. Voices echoed back in the compound, and briefly, he thought maybe they’d noticed his absence—but he only shook his head.

“It means you have nothing to lose,” Helmi murmured, “and everything to take back from him.” Her hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck, the pad of her thumb sweeping up to his pulsepoint pensively. “See? Your heart is beating, and hard. Your blood knows it’s what you want, even if you don’t yet.”

Swallowing thickly, he nodded his head once. Nothing to lose, and everything to take back. Could he? Could he get things back? Is that what Helmi had done? What Elliot had done?

“And don’t fuck it up,” she added, dropping her hand from his neck and zipping her coat up. Leaving so soon. She grinned. “Or I’ll gut you myself. And I guarantee, it won’t be an Återfödelse.”

A nervous, almost hysterical little laugh bubbled up out of him. Helmi shot him a look and then brushed past him, heading back into where the brush became the thickest, calling over her shoulder, “See you in a few days, Staci Pratt.”

A few days. A few days, Elliot would be back, and John Seed would be back, and Helmi would be seeing him. Seeing them. Maybe it would be better to make a break with Elliot, once she got in—but what if she didn’t want to? What if she was one of them?

Pratt let out a puff of hot breath, digging the heel of his palm into his eyesocket while the pain bloomed just there, turning and beginning to trudge back to the compound before anyone noticed his absence. Each scrape and puff of snow fell in line with his heartbeat, the mantra on and off again.

Nothing to lose.

Everything to take back.

[cherry-gemz]

The City by The Bay: Part IV

Summary: Fates push you and a handsome and known stranger into each other's paths. His chivalry and good looks make you take a leap into his world and more.

Catch up HERE

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Y/N (F!Reader)

Word Count: 4k

Rating: Mature, N*FW, 18+ only please, TW Motorcycle accident

A/N: Was thirsty AF and ended up smutting this fic up 😂. We take a turn that I was not expecting...

A/N2: Excerpts from an interview are in bold, taken from here: https://www.keanu-reeves.net/post/162864242206/abdominal-scar-keanu-reeves-first-big-spill-came

Who might be interested: @whiskeyslullabye ​ @marissat1998 @aestheticallywinchester ​ @fookingbetch

************

It all happened so fast. The rain felt like pellets on your back and the wind sprayed the droplets onto your face, making the strand of your hair stick to your forehead. You had to close your eyes for just a second and that's when Keanu swerved out of the way as a black BMW ran the stop sign ahead. He maneuvered the bike as best as he could. With all his years of training, he was the best probability if ever you were to be in an accident. 

But as he jerked to the right, the slickness of the pavement made the grip of the tires useless and he lost control. 

"Keanu!" You yelled and held tight to his waist and buried your face in his jacket.

"Hold on!" He shouted back and slowed down as best he could. He released his grip and instead grabbed you into a tuck and roll. He grasped you in his possession and shielded you from the fall. 

You felt the impact to the ground instantaneously and prayed that the pain that seared through the impact would be temporary. You heard him grunt loudly as he took the majority of the fall for you. The scrap of metal reverberated in your eardrums and you grimaced at the thought of damaging his beloved motorcycle. The rain pounded harder onto your laying bodies on the street. You could hear cars whizz by and the splash from their tires against the curb. You were frightened, out of your element. But also reassured from his protection. He had given up the bike in efforts to make sure you were safe. You felt a sense of relief that he cared like that, but then also remorse as you were worried about his favorite motorcycle. 

He groaned as he held you tight, "Y/N? Are you okay?"

His voice shaken as you nod and sniff, the helmet heavy on your pounding head. He let out a sigh of relief. 

"What about you?" 

He nods, "Yeah...I'm alright." He groaned again and you could tell he was saving face. 

The two of you lay there for a few seconds and you hear people slowly approaching. 

"Omigosh, are you guys okay?" A stranger asks.

"That guy came out of nowhere!" Another pipes up. Keanu says you are and the tinnitus hits for a second and you're unable to hear what is going on. 

***

The garage door’s rollers rumbled as it closed and you both walked into the house, sheltering yourself from the downpour.

Keanu peels his leather jacket and places it in the foyer as well as his boots. You slip your shoes off and place your purse on a chair and slip off your jacket, laying it next to his. 

"This day is just out of this world," he says and shakes off the excess rain from his hair. He groaned as there's a stiffness to his shoulder blade. He massages it with his hand and tries to loosen the muscle unsuccessfully. 

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital? I'd feel a lot better. They could take a look at your shoulder and check for any internal bleeding…"

He shakes his head no, "It's okay, Y/N. I've been in far worse accidents in my lifetime. I'm just glad you're okay...I don't know what I'd do had you gotten hurt."

You smile slightly at his endearment, but feel guilty still. 

"And the bike, it's not too much damage?"

"Nah, just a little buffering out here and there," he replies as he holds his shoulder with his opposing hand. 

“Let me start a fire and give you some extra clothes. By this time tonight you’ll have gone through my whole wardrobe,” he jokes as you snicker. 

He gazes at you momentarily and you shiver slightly, springing him back to reality. “Be back.”

You nod and peer down the hallway admiring some architecture photographs of the house. 

You’re reminded this isn’t his actual house, that he’s most likely renting it while on his project, but you’re still enamored. You're still in his presence. No one will believe your serendipitous encounter with the movie star. It all feels like a dream anyway. You rub your forearm and try to gain some heat, but your jeans are soaked and it’s difficult to move around.

“Keanu?” you call out down the hall.

“Yeah?” he shouts back.

“Sorry, I’m just freezing…” you cringe and you feel like you’re being a nuisance.

He appears around the corner, changed into black sweats. He's kept his white t-shirt on from earlier and even though he's in a casual form, it's intimate. 

"Here, I found some extra sweats," he says and hands you a pair of grey pants. "Do you need a sweater?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty chilled," you reply as you accept the pants. "I'm just gonna go change, that okay?"

"Sure, by all means. I'll be in the living room with that sweater," he says and you turn around to go change your clothes.

*

A short while later you walk down the hall in his oversized sweats, still wearing his black shirt from before as well and you bite your lip from beyond belief that you're spending the whole day with him. 

You hear the crackle of the fireplace as you enter the open spaced living room. He's sitting on the leather couch facing the fire with a glass of red wine in hand.

He turns his attention to you as you enter, "Hey." He gets up slowly as you can tell he's in a bit of pain and hands you a black ARCH hoodie and a glass of red wine. 

"Thank you," you flirt as you pull the hoodie over your senses and are enlightened with the hint of his cologne: woodsy, warm, and ephemeral. You could die right there and be in bliss.

"Not too early for wine, is it?" He asks genuinely. 

"No, definitely not," you smile and bring the glass to your lips and take a sip. 

"Good, I think we deserve it from what we've been through."

"Thanks for this...and the fire. It's all very inviting."

"Of course. I'd be beside myself if you caught a chill on my account."

You nod and he ushers you to the couch, placing his hand gently on the small of your back.

"My sweatshirt looks good on you," he says and you notice some blood on the back of his shoulder blade. 

"Oh no, Keanu…" you say and place the wine glass on the end table. 

He takes a sip and looks back to you, "Yeah?"

"There's...there's blood on your shirt. You hurt yourself from the fall."

"Really? I didn't feel anything," he peers over and tries to take a look. 

"Do you have a first aid kit?"

"I think there is one in the kitchen…" he slowly gets up and you grab his forearm. 

"No, let me. You have given me enough hospitality to last a lifetime. It's the least I can do. Drink your wine and relax."

He grins and relents as you head to the kitchen. You rummage around and finally find a kit underneath the sink. 

"Alright, now are you going to be a good patient?" You say and cock your brow. 

"No promises," he laughs and shakes his index finger at you. 

You sit next to him on the leather couch, "Alright, let's see the damage."

He peels his shirt off from the collar as all men do, least they are aware of how sexy the act is. You try not to hitch a breath, but your eyes wander as the peep of his ab muscles are exposed and his shoulders are defined and hard. 

You see the cuts from his shoulder and open the kit for an antiseptic. 

"What's the verdict, doc?" He asks as he holds his crumpled shirt in his hand and drinks his wine with the other.

"You'll live," you kid as you grab a cotton ball and apply the antiseptic to it and lightly dab it on his cuts. 

He flinched slightly, but refrained from making any movements. 

"So tell me about your other accidents," you ask as you continue first aid.

"Hmm, well once as I was going through the canyon, I lost control and got this," he points to a thick scar rising vertically up his stomach.

You frown and continue to gently cleanse away the blood from his back. 

"That was in LA?"

"Yeah, I call it a demon ride. That’s when things are going badly. But there’s other times when you go fast, or too fast, out of exhilaration.” 

"Were you speeding? I heard that canyon has insane blind spots," you ask and add an ointment to his cuts.

"Heh, you could say so. The turn I hit was unexpected. I remember saying in my head, ‘I’m going to die.’"

"Shit, Keanu…"

He shakes his head,“I remember calling out for help. And someone answering out of the darkness, and then the flashing lights of an ambulance coming down. This was after a truck ran over my helmet. I took it off because I couldn’t breathe, and a truck came down. I got out of the way, and it ran over my helmet.”

"So why do you still ride?" You laugh. "That would have scared me for life."

"Well, it taught me something. Something not to do, y'know? Something that taught me how to react with what happened today? Today I leaned into the turn when the car came out and released the break. If I hadn't had that experience in the canyon, I wouldn't be the rider I am today."

"Well I'm glad you're okay...from that ride...from any ride you have trouble with."

"Thanks...I'm glad, too. While I probably have some wild rides left in me, I wouldn't ever want to place you in danger."

You both are still and quiet from his words. The fire continued to crackle and you looked through the kit for gauze and tape. 

You cough into your fist and are slightly embarrassed that he would say something so sweet as that to you. You hardly knew each other, but he had a sense of genuine care and kindness towards you. Your feelings for him grew, he obviously was very handsome and kind. But he had a sense of an old soul in him that you wanted to get to know further. You hoped in your heart that this wouldn't be the last time seeing him.

"I find your presence extremely comforting, if I can say so," he turns his head to you.

"Yeah?" 

You ask as you place the gauze over his injury and seal it with surgical tape. Your fingertips lightly graze the outer parts of the tape where it meets his skin and you savor the moment. "All done here."

"Thank you," he smiles and reaches for your hand. 

"I know we just met, but you're so easy to talk to Y/N. I know I have a persona that people see being a celebrity and all, but while that is a side of me, there are also other sides. And I'm not afraid to show them to you."

As he leaned in and turned his torso, it caught your breath. The first aid kit wobbled in your lap as you sat on your knees. 

"What I want to say is that, I like you...I think you're very beautiful and incredibly sexy…"

"Keanu…" you whisper as he continues closer to you. 

"Y/N...I'd like...I'd like to kiss you..." he turned his neck and looked into your eyes and then at your lips. He was so subtle in his movements, a gentleman. You nod, without having the ability to speak at the moment, and close your eyes as he places his lips onto yours. 

There is heat surging through your body; jolts of excitement and wonder encompass your surroundings. He cups your face with his large hand and you instantly melt. He tastes of wine and rain: two of your now favorite things. The unexpected feelings engulf your inner core and you want more. He invites your tongue and opens his mouth slightly, changing the sweet kiss with more intensity. Both of his hands cup your face now and your hand roams down his biceps to his torso. 

"This isn't like a normal thing for me," you say in a heavy breath as your lips separate from his.

"What isn't?"

"Kissing someone I just met…and definitely not this..." you gasp as he kisses the nape of your neck. 

You sit up slightly and the first aid kit tips over and drops to the floor. Unphased, you wrap your legs around him into a straddle on the couch. He's surprised by this move, but doesn't relent and lightly bites your bottom lip. His hands roam from your face down to your neck and you crane it back, giving him ample opportunity to relish the soft, sensitive spot. 

He does so and places his lips on your skin, making you moan his name. 

"I don't normally do this either...but I can't help myself with you," he says. 

His other hand continues down your body and through the thickness of his hoodie, he slinks his way under your clothes and touches your breasts. 

"Uhnnh…" you moan again and he watches your enjoyment from his touch. You quickly peel off his sweater and his shirt, allowing your breasts to be fully exposed to him. Your now slightly dried hair hangs over your shoulder and he brushes it aside, giving it a kiss. You close your eyes and relish the fact that he has his lips on you. Your senses are in overload and you’ve never wanted anyone more. In the moment there is lust and the excitement of pleasure you’re wanting to experience, so you decide you want to move further. 

He trails his kisses and peppers them over your collarbone to your chest, and you hold him right in embrace. You hand lightly grazes the recent bandage and you give it a light kiss. 

"Y/N," he rasps. "Do...do you want me?" He bites your lip and you roll your eyes back for a moment. 

He brings his face back to yours and you reply, "More than you know."

A huge grin escapes his lips and ignites a growl deep within him. 

"Thank God, I want you so badly," he rasps as he holds you tight against his body. 

"Where do you…?" 

He continues to kiss your neck and his hand drifts down to your center. The baggy sweatpants give enough slack as he dives his hand and inserts his fingers. You mew and hold onto him as he tenderly tours your folds. 

"K-Keanu…" 

"You feel so soft…" his ministrations ramp up and he enjoys watching you unfold. His deep, brown eyes locked into yours and you crane your neck back as he hits all the spots and encircles his thumb perfectly over your little nub. 

"Uhhnnn…" 

Your mind starts to spin as you let go any restraint and close your eyes as he pumps his fingers in and out. Things become a blur and a mix of sensation and pleasure intensifies; you grind against his lap and can feel his excitement grow and it only turns you on more.

“I-I’m…” you stutter as you’re close to climax and then he slowly releases his fingers. “Why are you stopping…?”

"Can I taste you?" 

Never in a million years you thought you'd ever hear him say those words. It startles you and you freeze, brushing your hair away from your face to gain composure. He plants more kisses on your chest and cups a breast in his hand. 

"Let me taste you, Y/N. I want to taste you…" he whispers and begs. The heat between you two is almost unbearable. He's ignited something within your core and you want him, you need to give into your desires or you might explode. Wild, breathless kisses are exchanged and provide ample savour.

“Yes, please,” you ask and you unhook your legs as he gently lays you back on the couch. He kisses your taught stomach and runs his large hands over your hips until he finds what he is looking for. He hooks your thigh over his good shoulder and buries his face between your legs. You buck your hips from the intense sensation of his tongue and scream out his name as the rain and thunder roll outside. 

*

After what feels like an outer body experience, you are able to finally breathe and lay on the couch in disbelief. 

He smiles with a cocky grin and gets up to clean his face. You rub your eyes and stretch your toes. It had been awhile, well maybe never to have experienced that sense of euphoria. He was attentive in all the right places and relished at the fact that he loved the taste of you. You discreetly blush and reach for the throw blanket to cover up. 

As you sit up, he returns with the bottle of wine and tops your glass off. 

“Thank you,” you say and make eye contact. “And thank you…”

He chuckles and kisses you tenderly on the lips. 

“I should be thanking you, I very much enjoyed it, too.”

“I can thank you in other ways, you know,” you purr and run your fingers through your hair. 

He waggled his eyebrows, “Is that so? I’d like to see in which ways…”

You take a sip of your wine and return it to the end table. As you stand, you let the throw blanket drop and expose your body to him once again. You’re braver now. What you experienced was an intimate moment together and your walls were down. You felt comfortable, sexy, and beautiful. You grab his hand to pull you closer and passionately seal your lips on his. 

He responds and holds your neck with his hand, while the other hand grabs one of your globes. His kiss is fervent and heeding; his lips are insatiable and the tongue explores your mouth. You open your eyes and as does he, with one swift motion you jump into his arms and straddle his waist. He grasps you by your inner thighs and walks down the hall to his bedroom. 

*

He carries you into his room and his kisses become sloppy and wet, it’s a hunger that you can tell burns within him. 

As he lays you on the bed, he trails his lips to your ear lobes and sucks on it and your eyelids flutter. 

“Keanu…” you breathe heavily as you display your sex on his bed. 

He quickly slips his pants and boxers off and you reach for his hard member and stroke it within your fingertips. He’s soft to touch and large in a way that you anticipate pleasure that will come. He grunts in approval and bites your neck softly. 

“Y/N...I want all of you...you’re so beautiful. What do you want, baby?”

You practically orgasm at the sound of him calling you baby and you moan in approval as he delves two digits into your folds. 

“I want you, too, Ke…”

He smiles, “Ke...I like that. I like you...a lot. I want you to scream my name just like that.”

You nod as he pumps harder and tantalizes your clit, sending waves of intensity all over your body. 

“Oh, yes! Ke!”

“Do we need protection, baby?” He asks earnestly and you shake your head no. 

“IUD,” you state in a breath and he nods in approval. 

He releases his fingers and you whimper softly as he slowly rubs his cock along your wet lips. 

“Uhhh, yes…” you moan and he watches the way your silky entrance throbs for him. He rubs his head in and out and you cannot take the heat that is building up inside you. 

“Baby…” you rasp and writhe as he teases you in the most sexy way. He enjoys unraveling you, the thought that he can make you unfold in his hands is his own viewing pleasure. 

He cascades his hand to your hip and then hooks your leg over his shoulder, giving him full access to his prize. He continues to rub his thumb over your clit and then with a few thrusts, inserts himself in you. Your eyes widen as your walls stretch for him; it takes a few seconds to completely allow him to go deep, but he’s given plenty of foreplay and pleasure that you invite all of him to enter you. You arch your back in agreement with his thrusts and you both moan in pleasure. 

“Ke…” his name rolls off your tongue as he picks up his pace and thrusts harder. He leans over you, still holding your leg on his shoulder and kisses your calf tenderly. It’s a beautiful moment and you love how he caresses your leg, all in while thrusting in and out in a rhythmic game. He holds your ankle and continues his kisses until you pull him to you and plant your lips on his. 

“C’mere,” you coo and rake your fingers through his hair. Besides the few grunts you both make while becoming one, the rain hits the window pane and is seared in your memory. 

“I love your breasts,” he says as he watches them playfully bounce with his set pace of thrusts. 

You cock your brow and cup them in your hand, “Do you?” you ask devilishly and massage them as his mouth widens in a state of complete adoration. 

“That’s not fair, let me…” he responds and replaces your hands with his mouth. His thrusts become faster and harder, each time stretches your walls and the euphoria kicks in. 

"Keanu…!" 

You shout and let go all inhibitions as your toes curl in utter bliss. Your walls tighten further and your body shakes as he rides you through, a tidal wave of pleasure surges your body. 

 He holds the small of your back as you arch yourself on the bed and murmurs praises into your shoulder as he comes and releases himself. He crashes his lips onto yours and stays in you as you both recover. He brushes your hair away from your face and looks deep into your eyes and smiles. 

"That was amazing," he grins and slowly pulls out. He collapses next to you and breathes in heavily. "Are...was everything alright?"

You giggle at his concern, "It was far better than alright. It was perfect."

He rolls to his side and props his head with his bicep. You cuddle yourself next to him and wrap his grey duvet around your body. 

"You're pretty perfect," he replies. 

You blush and he trails his finger up and down the side of your arm.

"I was not expecting my day to be so damn fantastic," he laughs. "Who knew running into you would lead to this?"

"Me, too. I can't believe this all happened."

"But you're glad?"

"Of course," you reply and give him a kiss. He holds you close and doesn't let go. You both listen to the sound of the rain for a moment and relish being in each other's arms. You're enjoying how he is so intimate and appreciates a cuddle afterwards. 

He kisses your forehead, "I'm going to go get the wine. Do you want anything?"

"Hmmm...I'm kind of hungry."

"What? You are? We just ate!" He laughs. 

"Well I mean, you made me work up a sweat!"

"Okay, okay," he says and holds up hands. "Let me see what I can muster up. I think there is some imported cheese in the fridge. Maybe some crackers with the wine?"

"That sounds divine," you reply. "But let me."

"What? No, you're my guest."

"I insist, you have an injury," you say and place your hand on his chest, rubbing it in a circular motion. You point your finger to his face, "Stay right here. I have all day and intend to spend it in this bed, mister."

"Whatever the lady desires," he smiles and watches you saunter out of the bed. "Take that shirt if you want," he points to a battered shirt on the chair.

"Don't want me walking naked around your house?"

"There are a lot of windows," he laughs. You not and reach for the shirt.

"Be right back."

"Sounds good."

You give him a kiss and walk out of the room, knowing quite well his eyes are on you as you leave with just his shirt on. You realize your underwear is still in the living room and head over there before the kitchen. As you slip them on, you grab your glass of wine and sip it in a felicitous manner. 

You daintily skip over to the kitchen as you recall the past hour and you are cheeky and find yourself blushing. As you open the fridge, you spot the cheese and grab the bag and open it up to sneak a little piece. You hear the front door open and the ring that alerts when it does. You quizzically think to yourself why that occurred and you closed the fridge door to see a woman standing in front of you holding a manila folder. 

Your mouth stuffed with cheese you almost choke. She looks you up and down as you are wearing panties and Keanu’s shirt. 

“Um, who are you?” She demands and places her free hand on her hip. 

​

[lovelywingsart]

Hopeful Future

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/They) --

Something short and sweet... This was also one of my favorites to write <3 This is also one of many where you can tell my strong suit is dialogue. ouo'' Anyway, enjoy some more cuteness from them- you'll need it.

**Remember, check out the Masterlist for more! <3 **

-----

*Warning?: Some self doubt, comfort, cuddles, kisses, just being relatively sweet

Summary: The date is set, but Emelia is experiencing a pretty bad case of nerves. She won't say it, but Karl seems to notice, and gives his own form of comfort. The start of a hopeful future has begun, and they can only hope all goes to plan.

The outside building was... quiet, for once, even with the distant sound of machinery. These times were rare, especially recently. Emelia lay cuddled against Heisenberg on the mattress-like cushion kept on the second floor, relaxed enough to almost sleep as her fingers traced over the scars on his chest. His breaths came as low rumbles as he kept his arm under her, curled around her back to tap at her shoulder. She wore his shirt, as always, thoroughly enjoying his warmth and the calm that his 'purring' gave her. So much had gotten done... Planning, construction, even small bits of 'fun' thrown in for a sort of stress relief. Production had increased thanks to recent expansions since the big meeting, and their plan was set once the news of Miranda's discovery of a new vessel had come out. However, due to this, tension, Emelias tension specifically, had been high. She wouldn't admit she was nervous... Especially not to him. Talks of overthrowing or simply killing Miranda had been increasingly common, and the man seemed more ecstatic than usual. Even if he was dead tired, his mood had increased tenfold once he realized just how close they were. Somehow, the thought of that excitement disappearing because of her was something that she found... distasteful.

And so, she stayed silent, heavily preferring to be cuddled against him in what little calm and silence they had. But it still gnawed at the back of her mind, and she unintentionally let out a quiet huff. He took notice, moving his arm slightly under her to simply hold her shoulder. She glanced up at him as he shifted under her head, only to meet a curious gaze.

"Hm?" He hummed quietly, only giving a slight smile as she shook her head and looked away. She wanted to say something... She just didn't know what or how

There was silence for a moment before she quietly spoke up.

"... Karl...?"

He tilted his head, glancing at her once more. "Yes, Emmy?"

"What..." she started, faltering just slightly, "... What will we do? Once Miranda is dead, I mean..."

Her voice held a genuine, scared curiosity as she looked up at him fully. He couldn't help but raise his brows in the slightest bit of surprise. She kept her fingers moving along his chest as she felt him adjust his arm again so he could run his fingers through her currently loose hair. He chuckled.

"Well, we do what we want!" He replied happily, leaning his head back once more. "Once that bitch is dead, I-..." he paused quickly before grinning. "WE will be free. Free to live, free to thrive. We won't be under her thumb. We do whatever the hell we want to do, Emmy."

"Free to live..." she repeated, her fingers mindlessly drifting along his skin. She paused her movements once the words fully settled. Never once did she realize how close freedom was... Not once did she realize exactly what freedom MEANT. The had talked about it from the first few months of her arrival years ago, but the concept now was... odd. "We'll be free... That means..."

"That means you can live a normal life." Heisenberg chuckled, watching her reactions carefully. "It IS what you've wanted, yes?"

Emelia stared at his chest for a moment before suddenly pushing herself up into a sitting position, ignoring the uncomfortable grunt she received as she left the comfort of his arm. She was silent, lifting her right arm and staring at her hand. 'Normal'... Why did the word sound so... impossible now? Sure, her dream of normalcy had stayed with her. But did 'normal' even exist at this point? She was a fucking mutant, for god sakes... She had accepted it years ago, of course, but...

"I can't live 'normally' anymore..." she sighed finally, reaching to rub the back of her neck. There was a small flutter in her chest as if the parasite sensed her silent distress. She could feel Heisenbergs eyes nearly bore holes into her back, turning her head away as she felt him sit up with another grunt. He settled himself into a sitting position, resting an arm over his leg.

"As normally as you can, then." He offered, his voice taking on a lighter tone. He then rolled his eyes with a quiet sigh as she gave a snort of disbelief. She jumped as he reached forward, taking her jaw in his hand and making her face him. "Look at me, Emelia." He said quietly. "We're all a bunch of freaks thanks to that bitch, there's no use being ashamed of it now. But with her dead, the world is OURS! 'Normal' is whatever the hell you make it."

"But the others-"

"Fuck the others!" He laughed suddenly. "They wouldn't know what to do without her direction, they'll fall like useless pawns. And if they don't, they'll scatter like the cowards they are."

Emelia stared at him for a moment with a raised brow before falling back onto the cushion with a huff and closing her eye.

"So you want to rule by yourself, then?" She asked, the slightest bit of amusement in her voice. He looked back at her with a chuckle.

"Well, yes, but not necessarily. We both know what my plans are. But more importantly..." he suddenly twisted himself slightly, leaning over her with his hands on either side of her shoulders. He smirked as a light blush entered her cheeks once she looked up at him, clearly not expecting him to even move. "What do YOU want, Emmy?"

"... What...?" She managed, calming slightly as he tilted his head.

"You're worried about not being 'normal' enough to live that way, and even I know your mind is hard to change. What do you want, then?"

"I..." she started, somewhat stunned. Well, there were a lot of answers to that question... She just didn't expect him to even ask. What DID she want...? He was right... She knew he was. The only issue was, she didn't have an answer for the first time in years. She couldn't have the life she wanted... What the hell COULD she do? She finally sighed, turning her head to the side with her missing eye towards him. "... I don't know..."

"You don't know?"

"N-No, I..." she tried, moving her hand to brush against his just slightly to calm the nerves that had started to show themselves. "I don't have many options."

"And what are the ones you DO have?" He questioned. He shifted his hand for her, allowing her to hold it just slightly. She shrugged.

"Well, I certainly can't return to where I came from before this... If I even knew where to go, that is..." she mumbled, moving her head to look at the room around them. "I'll most definitely be killed if I tried... Or tested on more if caught, god forbid the company remembers me enough to care. Though, I COULD travel..." she said thoughtfully, but she couldn't help but frown slightly at the thought. "... But..."

Heisenberg drew back in interest, arching a brow as she spoke.

"'But'?" He asked, watching her carefully. She shook her head slightly before finally meeting his gaze with a sigh.

"This... This is my home..." she replied quietly, a near sadness in the gold of her eye. "It wouldn't feel right if I left... I'm safe here, and it's not... not lonely. Travelling can't guarantee that."

"I guess that would result in loneliness, wouldn't it?" He asked casually.

She was silent, but nodded. Lonely wasn't exactly what she wanted to be after spending time around others like her now, specifically him. She took a nervous breath and held it for a moment, choosing her next words as carefully as she could. May as well tell him the truth of her thoughts, right...?

"Given the chance, I think..." she started, her voice lowering. "I think I would... stay here." She looked up at him with a slight bit of confidence, meeting his now somewhat surprised expression. "... With you."

She was met with silence before he suddenly let out a genuine laugh, lowering himself onto his elbows for his face to be closer to hers.

"You'd really stay with me, Emmy?" He asked, an amused smile on his face as her face brightened in color. But she soon relaxed, her lips twitching into the smallest smile. She felt much better with this reaction... Much better than she thought she would.

"You're an ignorant twit, Heisenberg..." she joked before chuckling lightly. "But... yes. If... If I could."

She was met with a chuckle from him as he leaned down slightly, his nose brushing against hers.

"Well, of course you can!" He grinned, earning a small laugh. "Hell, if you stay with me, I'll help make life for you normal."

"As 'normal' as possible..." she snorted, though she couldn't keep the smile from her face. The sentiment was... oddly comforting. "You'd really do that for me, Metalhead?"

"Anything for my favorite worker."

"Am I really?"

"Always have been, Emmy."

"Hm... I feel like that's a lie..." she joked, tilting her head slightly. She was met with another chuckle.

"Would I lie to you?" He asked. She shrugged, starting to reach up.

"You hate liars, but that doesn't mean you aren't one..." she replied, her fingers drifting along the scratchy hair of his beard. She felt... calm. Oddly calm, at that... She couldn't have even begun to understand why, even as she stared into the bright pale yellow eyes that she had admittedly, secretly, come to admire. She held his jaw for a moment before tugging him down slightly. He smiled.

"To freedom from Miranda." He said simply, following her movements slowly with a now large grin. Her own smile widened ever so slightly as his lips brushed hers.

"To freedom." She replied, her voice nearly a whisper.

She was met with a surprisingly gentle kiss, letting it settle before fully wrapping her raised arm around his shoulders. She was so used to this... So used to the 'affection'. So used to the quiet and comfort he gave despite the machines around them and even his own personality at times. She felt him chuckle into the kiss as she reached her other arm around his shoulders, and in turn couldn't help herself from doing the same as he pulled away and eased himself into the hug she gave.

"And what was that for?" He asked, amusement in his voice as he moved to press a light kiss against her jaw. She shrugged, a relaxed smile on her face.

"I'm... not sure." She admitted, watching as he propped himself up over her on his elbows once more. "Perhaps that's my 'normal' now..."

"Hm. Well, I hope that counts as the start of a full 'normal' for you from now on..."

Emelia kept her arms around his shoulders, her fingers running along what skin they could reach and tracing over smaller scars.

"Maybe..."

"'Maybe'?"

"You heard me, Metalhead."

Heisenberg laughed again, finally moving to lay down next to her once more and shifting his arm to rest under her head.

"You're always the odd one, Emelia. But please, do me a favor."

She returned to her place on his chest as he shifted, tilting her head slightly.

"Yes, Karl?" She looked up at him, surprised as she was met with a calm smile.

"Never stop smiling." He said simply. While it caught her off guard, she couldn't help but do just that.

"Once this is over with, I won't." She replied.

"You promise?"

She gave a laughing huff, pressing her face to his shoulder.

"Yes."

"Good."

[undergrounddweller89]

(look you don't have to like this, I'm not expecting anyone to, I just needed to write and if there's the possibility that even one person was hoping I'd write more and enjoys it then that's cool, just don't be a dick about it, it's more house mate au stuff, don't hope for continuity by that I mean it's just all over the place and nothing makes sense , just expect what ever came to my head at the time lol)

Walter was sat at his work table, fiddling with one of his new devices working on to perfect it, no I can't think of anything specific so I'll let you fill in that with your imagination.

The day had been long, his lab assistant Timothy Lawrence (Yea that Timothy if you know him because reasons) had been pretty quiet but done as told so at least that made it easier.

He was tired as the day had gone on his mood had sunk, what was he doing teasing Killian like that, honestly spanking him with the hair brush, he knew some of the things Killian had been up to.

But it was more likely a sign of marking territory or just because he had needs right and it was exciting to do things where you shouldn't.

The blade he was handling slipped and ran across the pad of his index finger, he hissed in pain, seeing the blood smear under the blue latex, pooling to drip, focusing on the red colour he hadn't even noticed Timothy running to fetch the first aid kit.

Pulling his gloves off he discarded them and popped open the box that had been set on the table.

"Thanks Timmy."

Walter smiled a little as he tended to his finger, he hated how the skin felt parting every time he flexed his finger.

Cleaning up and applying what was needed, thankful it wouldn't need stitches.

He wondered what Killian was up to, watching TV, reading maybe, did he eat, did he have enough to drink, was he in a depressive mood, was he mad that hed spanked him, he really should send a message.

Pulling his phone from his lab pocket he texted him.

'Hope you're day has been good, hope you're well, sorry if I upset you this morning.'

He shifted and rubbed a shoulder, he didn't realise how stiff his back had gone, being in charge of a division meant he'd somewhat lost track of self care making sure to do his stretches.

Timothy stood here watching his boss, lot better than the last one, this one was kind and genuine, always looking out for people, honestly Beckett made him feel safe and relaxed, he wasn't looking for anything serious but even he could see that furrowed bow and the lean that spelt hey I'm exhausted let me die.

Walking around and behind him he slowly massaged his shoulders, they were small and rather petite for someone Walter's age but it was more lean muscle and just body build, he just hadn't seen many men like Walter where he'd come from, he was rather pretty.

Walter had considered telling him to stop but when his fingers pressed into that one perfect spot in his shoulder blades he melted, ooooh that just felt so damn good and shit when was the last time he'd had contact, had someone be closer to him...he liked Killian...wondered if they could be more, but he didn't believe for one second that they could be lovers or bed fellows for one moment...not that he wouldn't be interested in finding out but Killian had been there a month, like he wasn't going to make him uncomfortable and feel like that the only way he could stay was if he dated him.

(I keep forgetting times or how many days set shrugs just don't expect like decent continuity, I write these because I need to just write things and moments)

Walter leaned forward arms folded and face buried in them

"Sorry sir, am I doing that badly?"

Timothy's enquired nervously, his hands going still.

"No, please don't stop, I literally didn't realise how stiff I was, you have good hands, I'm just so tired Timothy, I could really use it if you don't mind that is."

"Not at all sir."

Tim smiled happy to know he was helping, yes much nicer than his last boss, Walter was smart but he was also fragile, like him he loved his mother and when he'd heard Walters mother had died when he was small he wanted to scoop him up and just hug him.

A talk with Lance at one point and he'd learned that was a natural reaction for anyone with a heart around Walter who didn't have their head up their ass.

Which had practically been the last tech department Beckett had worked in, that totally wasn't cool that they'd done that to such a brilliant mind, it was so much fun working on items that didn't kill people and actually helped them!

Walter was imagining the fingers loosening the knots in his back were Killian, wondered what that would feel like with those pretty metal claws, but he never forgot it was Timothy, after all Timothy deserved more respect than that.

Looking over his shoulder at him, auburn hair flopping off to one side, Tim's hands on his waist he noticed the subtle blush.

"You wanna go grab some dinner or something in a minute there's a corner café I know, makes steak sandwiches and baked potatoes with a perfect crispy skin, a warm meal sounds pretty nice don't you think?"

Tim in the angle he was in was trying not to think about how suggestive this looked, he would absolutely lean down and kiss Walter if he thought it was an option, it really was a casual thing he felt, but Walter just looked so pretty and like he needed someone to carry him right now.

Continuing to rub his back Timothy nodded

"Yeah that sounds pretty nice actually."

---

At home Killian had found plenty to do, he'd read, watched tv, all in Walters bed of course, just to feel close to him as he could, he did wonder after handling himself, if Walter could see him as anything more than a friend, someone more than a few passing jokes between the other...turning his head and taking in his scent as he buried his face into a pillow again, looking forward to seeing those blue eyes...he should really get out of Walter's bed and get the covers washed.

Beckett brought comfort to his mind after his years of suffering, the sunrise after the storm.

He'd talked to Lovey, wondering if she could understand him, she was surprisingly responsive to his rambling as he worked on his arm, updating the tech and keeping up with maintenence.

Living here with Walter and slowly working past things with Lance and seeing he had genuinely started changes of his own, it made it easier with how Walter talked about him on the job, that he considered all options before violence and discussed the situations with him...it was good to know Beckett had helped Lance to.

He was glad to know Walter's field partner was a good one, though his lab partner, this Timothy Lawrence seemed to be pretty chummy didn't he, he'd seen a picture, thick brown hair, heterochromia eyes, blue and green to be exact and a chiseled jaw, in other words a damn pretty boy and he didn't want him around Walter.

He huffed folding his arms, yes he was jealous he was going to be pouty, before his injury he had thick black hair and had been known to be a very handsome man, now he looked like he'd been put through a grinder when he took off his holo mask and this Timothy Lawrence just had to be Walter's lab partner, he'd be around him alot and-

His phone buzzed, it'd been put on the side table and he read the text that'd come through and there was another one.

'Going out to dinner with Timothy, don't know what time I'll be back, have fun you probably need a break from me anyway lol 😂'

Killian's eye twitched, he nearly threw the damn phone, but how would he explain that, honestly he couldn't, Tristan sighed, shoulders drooping a little and answered his questions

'It's been a relaxing day, did work on the arm, Lovey' s surprisingly easy to talk to, watched a little television but perhaps you could suggest something to watch, it's rather hard deciding with all these options and no Walter you didn't upset me, though you left in a hurry, you do not need to avoid me. You're not a bother. Are you alright?'

'I'm so happy you're warming up to her! That's awesome! Also it's good you have time to relax, ten years of hectic stress you're more than overdue! I...well I was more embarrassed than anything, I reacted on instinct, last boyfriend liked that well that's probably more than you needed to know, but yeah I'll help you pick something to watch see you later!'

Last boyfriend? Spanking, Walter had, he had...Killian shifted well the blankets were starting to tent, the idea of being put over Walters petite lap and being told he was a very bad man came to mind.

He liked it.

A lot.

He looked at his phone as it pinged again.

'And god damn it, make sure you eat something for dinner, don't just go picking out the cupboard!'

Killian snickered and replied

'Yes Daddy, I'll make sure to eat something.'

After sending the text he realised what he'd written and wished he could take back that text, wincing as he managed to look at the response

'Behave, eat dinner or I'll put you over my knee young man.'

Killian stared and stared at that answer, he knew Walter was just teasing but, his cheeks were warm and he was...was he blushing.

----

"You all set to go Timothy?"

Walter smiled, his back was feeling a hundred times better after Timothy had dug into the knots, it wasn't a surprise that he was good with his hands, you had to have nimble ones to work with the tech they used here.

"Yeah, just coming boss!"

He pulled his satchel over his shoulder after pulling on his old brown leather jacket

"Please Timothy don't call me that, call me daddy."

Walter laughed at how silly that sounded

"I'm sorry, pfffft don't call me that god please, no, Walter's just fine."

Tim had paused a moment a slight fear he might have a streak like his last boss after all but that laugh was too warm and giggly and just shook his head with a smile

"Wouldn't dream of it Walter, you're more of a kitten anyway."

Timmy felt his insides tighten a little and there was that hint of Jack Dna surfacing.

"So shall we go?"

Beckett enquired looking up at him, huh he kinda looked like Killian, just a little.

"Ready when you are."

And with that they were off.

(Alright end of this ramble, Timothy has been thrown in because I needed the gasp drama of prolongation and shit and didn't have the energy to create an oc and honestly I'll mash anything from anywhere if it's convenient bleh)

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 7

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Fem!Human/Reader)

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Violence, brief mention of attempted rape (minor character)

Tai'chi gently lets go of your hand as the two of you approached the building entrance, students filing out of the rooms, chattering as they made their way to their next class.

As much as you want to feel the warmth of his hand as he held yours, both of you didn't want to risk any more brash acts, having enough of what had happened in less than a day.

You are tired.

One more jerk approaching you with a snide, insulting remark will send you off into a frenzy of kicking everybody's ass. Your father always scolded you for this, lecturing you about the importance of training your self-control, to not let your temper get the best of you.

Come to think of it, if Tai'chi hadn't stopped you earlier, you would've lashed out at David without a second thought, which will then put you in a bad position, making everything far more complicated.

Worst case, they would have expelled you right away.

Self-control, huh. Should've listened to Papa and worked more on it.

You weren't paying much attention to where you were going as you walked through the slightly crowded halls. You let out an "oomph" as you bumped into someone's...arm?

Your apology didn't make its way out of your mouth as a tall, blonde elf, snapped.

"Watch it, human."

The elf gave an irritant side glance as they passed, looking down at you, literally. Like most elven kind, they were slightly taller than the average human. You scented them, subtle, taking in a smell that confused you. The usual sourness is there, but mixed with something sweet? Perhaps the elf was not a bad person after all. Sweet scents from your experience were good.

Kind, even.

"I'm sorry!" You called out, with enough volume, so they could hear you. Your apology was genuine, with a small smile hidden behind your mask. All you got was a 'hmp' in return.

Hey, at least they heard you. You really didn't mean to bump into them, maybe they didn't see you, in regards of your height.

Which wasn't much.

You turned to Tai'chi, and as always, he was watching you, his gaze soft, his face neutral, but you caught a small tug of his lips before it goes back to his previous expression as you went to your class.

-

Once you stepped inside, you subconsciously looked for vacant seats in the back. Luckily, there were still a few students when you arrived, the pink pixie and the lizard person catching your attention first. You waved as you pass by where they sat. The pixie waved back, seemingly cheerful with your greeting. The lizard person beside her, however, only gave you a curious eye.

You took your seat, Tai'chi following suit and took his beside you, the chair slightly creaking under his weight. You held your breath, releasing it after a moment when the chair didn't break. Tai'chi hummed in amusement.

A moment later, an old, white-haired man entered, followed by a couple of students in your class. He wore a light grey undershirt, a black vest with a red tie, matching black slacks and shoes, along with square-rimmed glasses.

You didn't see him in the office earlier so you have no idea what he's like.

"Good afternoon, students." The teacher began as he wrote on the blackboard. The class responded to his greeting before he continued with his aged voice. "I am Professor Hurton Flemming. I will be the one teaching you your General Mathematics. We will be..."

You listened to Professor Flemming as he briefed the class on what you will be tackling in his subject for your freshmen year.

"Please raise your hand if your name is called. I would like to know the names and faces of my students under my care this year." He took out what looked like a journal and started calling your names.

Turns out, the girl who shoved you this morning was Tiffany Morai. She did sound and act like a Tiffany, like a bitch.

No offense to the other Tiffanies out there.

Lilia Fontaine, the pink pixie. Her name suits her cheerful and bright personality just from her scent when you passed by. She smelled like an assortment of flowers. You weren't good with figuring out their names but you could hint marigolds, which was abundant where you were from.

The lizardperson, Eznet Novak, you found out right after. You couldn't scent them much, just a whiff of some earthy mineral you didn't know.

You thought back on what Tai'chi had told you in regards of your ability.

I should ask him later.

Eznet seemed apprehensive of you, too. Maybe they don't like humans in particular? Or is it because of your mask? People who wore masks are usually deemed suspicious so it seems.

The blue tiefling and the dwarf from earlier weren't present, you noticed. Perhaps they skipped or went somewhere else, another class maybe.

You looked to your seatmate for help when you missed someone's name. Tai'chi felt your eyes on him and he leaned down for you to whisper.

"What's the elf's name again? I spaced out for a second there," you asked.

"Her name's Arlenre Vinela."

Tai'chi whispered back, tilting his head to your ear. You couldn't help but feel a little shiver run down your spine at his rich voice. You hoped he didn't notice it. You almost forgot the name again.

"T-Thanks."

He huffed out a reply as he sat back in his chair. He briefly gauged your reaction, quite proud when he saw that slight tinge of color on your ear.

The two of you raised your hands in attendance, being the last ones called.

-

Once the professor was done, he left everyone to use the time left for chit-chat and other things as long as we don't cause problems. He is caring and openminded, you wondered what he's like when teaching actual lessons in class.

Ligh chatter filled the room, some in hushed voices, others in a casual one. You glanced to your right at a group of humans halfway across the large room as you sensed their eyes on you. They grimaced when you saw them and went back to gossip amongst each other.

You try blocking out their scents, letting out a tired sigh when you couldn't, you shut your eyes and attempt to get some rest before anything else happens, resting your head on your arm and desk.

What are the chances that a ball of paper would be thrown in your direction right after?

Pretty high.

The orc saw it flying over and caught it in his fist before it hit you. He shot a glare in their direction, huffing when the students pretended to have nothing to do with the paper.

Tai'chi suspected some worded insult inside, so he chose not to uncrumple it, shoving it inside his pocket instead. He'll throw it once he sees a trash bin on the way out.

You weren't aware of what happened and even if you felt the air move, you wouldn't care much. The day's events were catching up to you slowly, you're pretty sure once you step inside your apartment you'd pass out.

For what seemed like half an eternity later, the bell rang for the last time today.

-

"...Pearl." You two walked out, Tai'chi slowing down his steps for you as he took notice of your drowsy state.

"Hm...?"

"You are tired."

"Mhm yeah...that I am." You replied, yawning behind your mask. Tai'chi chuckled at this, he found you cute everytime.

"Would you allow me to walk you home?" He offered once the two of you got out of the school building.

You perked up, blinking away rapidly.

"W-walk me home?"

"Yes...? But if you're not comfortable with I unders—"

"No! I mean yes!" you spluttered, "I mean— I-I would like that...you walking me home, Tai'chi." Your little outburst drew some attention, but you were pre-occupied to even bother.

Tai'chi breathed out, "Good. That's good. I would like to talk to you about the, uh, courting, if that's okay with you? If you're exhausted we could talk tomorrow." There was no lie on how your eyes looked, you need to rest.

"Nah, I can pay attention for that," you insisted. "I'd like to know what these courting rituals are, today, so I'll know what to expect...and stuff. I seriously have no idea. I never ever, ever had any...suitors? Yeah, suitors."

Huh, now that you think about your past, you didn't find anyone you were attracted to, much to every other girl's convenience and annoyance when you wouldn't react like them when the "campus sweetheart" walks by, squealing and batting their eyelashes, puffing out their chests and raising their hips. They all acted the same way and you found it confusing why they'd do that, alienating you in the process.

"Not even one?" The orc was secretly baffled and relieved to hear that, but he'd never admit it out loud. Maybe.

"Before you? Hell, there are none. I don't think they know I exist, until I get into a fight with them or if they caught word about my reputation, I guess," you shrugged. "You see, uh, most people don't really like the thought of girls who are strong, and psh...capable of anything else other than being submissive, curvaceous and flirty with those skimpy skirts." You say to him, waving your hand in front of your face. You were out of the gate already, so you head right, Tai'chi an arm's length away to your left.

He grunts as he pondered about how those human men are blind and shallow in their choice of interest. Who would not want a strong woman? One capable of handling herself in undesired situations and protecting others?

The answer to that was obvious.

You remained silent for a while, the rush of vehicles and the buzzing of the city surrounded you as you got lost again in your own thoughts. You saw groups of high school students chatting along as they passed.

Tai'chi would glance at you from time to time, paying attention to your features, your tight braid swaying slightly behind you as you walked, and your hands hidden inside your hoodie. You took a left and crossed the street, and then a right after 8 minutes of walking straight, the area you were currently in was quite deserted in the early evening...

A scent.

You stood still, frozen as your nose caught something faint. Something familiarly bad.

"What's wrong?" Taichi asked, his brows furrowing, concerned as he watched you— why did you stop?

"Tai'chi, do you smell that?"

He inhaled the air around him, catching a whiff of something indecent and awful, he frowned, alarmed when he realized what it was.

Lust and fear.

A distant scream slit through the silence and you bolted.

It took a second for Tai'chi to follow, taking large hurried steps as you ran ahead of him towards the origin of the distress.

When you arrive in a dark dingy alley, you pulled out a pair of nunchucks from your bag, the red and black patterns barely visible in the shadows, your knuckle dusters on your left, fingers gripping them tightly. You saw a young girl, her uniform that of a high school student, similar to the ones earlier. She was held down against a wall by a brawny tattooed arm of a man, his hand slowly trailing up her skirt as the other people with him rummaged her school bag.

"P-Please let me go...!" She begged as she squirmed under his grasp.

"There now, little girl, you and I are gonna have so much fun tonight," he breathed at her neck, humming lustfully as he groped her thighs.

You didn't bother making a sound as you lunged, going for the first one as you whip your weapon and hit the back of his head. This startled him, letting go of the girl in the process as he stumbled back, she only sat there, shocked in place.

"What the fu—" You shut him up with a punch to his gut and another one to his jaw. He drops to the ground, unmoving, you hit him too hard, apparently. Not dead, at least.

You got to caught up on your front that you failed to notice the one behind you.

Shit.

Curse yourself for being such a reckless ass when you're lethargic. You braced yourself for whatever was coming, arms raising up to cover your head defensively.

A second passed but nothing happened, nothing hurt. You opened your eyes when you heard a strangled cry and saw a man, held at his neck against the wall by none other than your orc.

W-Wait he's not my orc!

Tai'chi disarms him and buries the knife into the wall just beside the their face, cracking the concrete in the process. He let out a low growl, reigning the urge to simply snap their neck for trying to hurt you. He glared down at them, the man shaking under his hold, terrified.

Your attention was quickly drawn away by a yell of someone heading for you, seeing a glint of another knife, you dodged as he repeatedly tries to stab. You wrapped the chains of your weapon around his wrist when he swiped, twisting it and making the man scream out in pain. You punched him square in the face, a tooth flying off as he spit blood. He falls down to the ground, just like the previous guy.

You attempt to chase the last one that scampered away. The quiet woosh sounded in the air made you hault. A small brick, you saw, flew over you and it hit the guy right on the head.

Anddd he's out. No, he's not dead. I think.

Tai'chi, (who else would've made that shot?) just saved you the trouble of running again. You doubt you could even reach the guy, you'd pass the fuck out within 50 meters.

You exhaled loudly, your hands on your hips as you let your body come down from another rush of adrenaline.

For like, five goddamn times now. You just can't catch a break today for fuck's sake!

While you were cursing every wicked thing out there, a whimper reached your ears, immediately silencing your thoughts.

Ah, right, the girl.

"P-Please don't h-hurt me." She cried out, her scent was heavy in fear, terrified as she stared at the orc who stood beside a man that lay unconscious at his feet. You ran to her, holding her face in your hands as you force her to look at you. The girl was trembling, her body flinching away when you touched her.

"Shh...shh... It's okay, it's alright, you're safe now. Calm down. Take deep breaths for me okay?" you assured. She nods and does what you say, breathing in and out in repeat until her scent changed slightly, though the fear was still there, her trembling turned into light shivers.

"He's a friend. He will not harm you."

You glanced at the orc, your eyes landing on Tai'chi smiled, which he returned with a small nod.

You helped her stand up and put back her things in the bag. Her phone was still in the area, luckily, the guy must've dropped it when he ran away.

Once that was done, the girl hugged you tight, taking you by surprise. You weren't used to this sort of physical contact, at least in a non-violent way.

"Thank you for saving me. H-How can I repay you, miss?"

"Oh no, no, no need to do that. I only did what was right. Just be careful next time when going home alone okay?"

"I insist, p-please let me repay you!" she pressed and you pulled back to look at her.

"No. Really. It's okay, you're okay now."

"But—"

"How about thanking my friend then?" You motioned to Tai'chi who was leaning his weight against the wall, watching you both silently.

"H-Him?"

"Yes, him. His name is Tai'chi and I'm PearI. I want you to thank him."

"But he's—"

"An orc. Is there a problem with that? No. Now listen here, girl, race doesn't fucking matter." You said as you took her hands and squeezed them. "Everything and everyone has a good and a bad side to them, no matter their kind. Do you remember who attacked you? Humans. Our own flesh and blood. Never judge anyone from what they look like, that and thanking him is enough as your payment."

She stared at you with wide eyes, nodding after a moment when she took in your words. She approached the orc, stopping a few feet away and thanked him, shyly peeking up at his face.

"You're welcome," Tai'chi smiled.

——

Part 8 will be out shortly! The day is not over— and I'm scolding myself for the pacing and I'm sorry...

[mka1098]

I Ask For Your Hand In Marriage

Part 4 - I'm really tired guys I'm sorry

“You’re really annoying.” That was the first thing Percy heard when he woke up. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes; Annabeth had collapsed at the foot of his bed.

“Wow. You’re loving.” he said sarcastically. She groaned into his bedsheets. “No really. You suck.” Annabeth continued. Percy made an offended noise and reached for one of the pillows next to him to throw at her.

“I had to plan your meeting with the next princess and it was so freaking hard.” Annabeth said, swatting the pillow away. She sat up and sighed, looking back at him with an annoyed look. “Why didn’t you just pick Hazel. She was sweet and our kingdoms would have been so powerful together; you know that your dad was hoping for you to marry her right?” She said.

Percy frowned. “She was nice, I’ll say that’s for sure but it just wasn’t right.” He told her. Annabeth huffed.

“I guess that makes sense.” She said begrudgingly. “Plus-” Percy said with a grin. ��-she likes one of the animal caretakers in her kingdom. I told her to go for it.” He added. Annabeth's expression softened.

“Did she?” She asked. “I hope.” Percy replied. A small soft and sweet smile made its way onto Annabeth's face. “That’s very sweet of you. Real love should never be thrown out for sake of power or kingdom politics.” She admitted.

Percy nodded but his mind began to wander. Hazel seemed so genuinely sure that he and Annabeth were something. They weren’t, that was for sure but would he rebel against the good of the kingdom just to marry her? Sure, Hazel wasn’t the first born royal so she didn’t have to worry about that part but say Percy did. Though his parents hadn’t ever explicitly told him, Percy knew that he had to produce the next heir to rule. If, if, he and Annabeth were to be something and his parents wanted him to marry a royal princess, would he rebel or would he listen? After all, he had a duty to the people and was the only son.

“If by the end of this you don’t find a wife, I’m going to end you myself.” Annabeth said, snapping Percy out of his thoughts.

“Huh? What?” He said with a playful smirk.

She rolled her eyes and shoved Percy over. “It’s so much work! And the ball, jesus christ I’m going to be buried in work by the time the ball planning comes. Pick a nice one.” She said, looking at him with an intense glare. “I’m not dealing with a bridezilla when the wedding comes around.” That made Percy sputter and his eyes go wide. Sure, wife meant marriage but he didn’t realize everyone was thinking so far ahead and to the wedding itself just yet!

“Wedding?” He cried out. Annabeth raised a brow at him as if to say, are you stupid?

“Yes. Wedding. What you do to legally have a wife.” She said, mocking him playfully. Percy rolled his eyes.

“Wow, thanks for telling me what a wedding is; I didn’t know what it was before.”

“Of course, how could we expect something else?”

Percy frowned at her deeply as she snickered to herself. “I’m tired; you’re annoying. I wanna sleep.” He said, leaning back into his pillows and covers. Annabeth scoffed and threw the pillow back at his face.

“Well me too but I have work to do.” She said.

Percy lifted his hand lazily. “Skip it all.” He told her. Annabeth gave a sharp laugh.

“No, because you are my work. And you’re putting more work on me because you’re an idiot who can’t choose a freaking queen.” She said.

Percy frowned at her. “I can choose a queen.” He defended himself. Annabeth rolled her eyes playfully.

“Tell that to my emails and schedules. DO you know how condescending all of the other royal advisors are? I mean, I know I’m young; you all can stop reminding me.” She complained.

Percy scowled, mentally noting to be extremely passive aggressive with the advisors in the future. “I can though.” Percy continued. “You can do all the queen stuff till I get a girlfriend. You already know what to do; it’s basically what you do now.” Percy said. Annabeth smacked him in the head.

“No. I already told you why we can do that.” She said strictly, still Percy pouted at her. “I think it’s a great idea!” He said.

She looked at him blankly. “Your subjects will beg to differ.” She said drily

With a roll of his eyes, Percy grabbed her arm and pulled her now next to him, only he was under the covers with a ratty old tee shirt and fleece PJ pants while Annabeth wore an olive green jumpsuit. “Nap time.” He announced like a child. She rolled her eyes but snuggled into the cover’s surface.

“But really, you need to think about your future queen or else all my hard work is for nothing.”

“Nap time!”

“Percy…”

“Nap.”

Annabeth looked at him with scolding eyes. Percy pouted. “Oh come on, you know the only person I’ve ever even thought about doing the queen and other stuff while I rule is you. Give me a break!” He cried out.

Annabeth scoffed and sat up, much to his dismay. “You’re not even listening to me.” She said, and tugged on his hair; Percy yelped and batted her hands away.

“Yes, I am!” Percy pouted. Annabeth shook her head. “No you aren’t.” SHe let out a long-suffering sigh.

“I am not allowed to be your queen even take over some of her roles. You have got to get that out of your kelp-filled head.” She tugged on Percy’s hair, shaking her own head of golden locks as Percy shireked.

In total honesty, her words made him feel, deflate, in fact. He didn’t really know why though, it wasn't he didn’t know that. Annabeth had practically beaten it over his head that she couldn’t help him with those duties; it didn’t stop him from relying on her for them and mildly preferring it. Really though, she was his best friend, it would make sense for them to work on ruling an entire kingdom together.

“You’re not listening to me again.” Annabeth’s laughing voice cut through his thoughts. She smiled at him softly.

“As much as I appreciate you thinking I can do all that stuff and as much as I know I’ll do well ruling. I can’t.” Percy nodded. He knew that.

“You need to get up though, for real. And changed.” Annabeth announced, getting off the bed and standing next to the foot of it, much to Percy’s displeasure. He tried reaching for her arms to pull her back into the comforter again but she stepped back and out of his arm’s span.

“Come back!” He whined. Annabeth reached forward with an arm, grabbed his outstretched one and pulled him to the ground in one smooth quick motion.

Percy cried out as he hit the ground, hard and fast. “Get ready for the day.” Annabeth snorted, turning around and walking away. Percy smiled from the ground, spotting her silently shaking shoulders and knew that she was trying hard not to burst out laughing. He apperaticed that she always pushed him to do things, even when he didn’t want to but did it out of love.

Perhaps that one of the reasons Hazel wasn’t right for him or as a queen of his kingdom. Percy liked to have fun, Annabeth could attest for that. He perhaps needed something that wasn’t so nice and would push him to do his best. After all, that was what Annabeth did. He needed a person like Annabeth as his queen. (In his personal opinion he needed Annabeth as queen or at least royal caretaker for the rest of his life). After all, she was one of the few people in his life that lamented that he wasn’t lazy, just unfocused.

“Get off the floor, seaweed brain.”

“Ooh harsh.”

“I mean it!”

“Yes, ma’am.”