#ici pilling box test

[gester-tester]

New Style ICI Pilling and Snagging Tester 4 Boxes Operation video, Click to watch and learn more.

[makethatelevenrings]

Puzzle Pieces // J. Todd x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: discussions of pregnancy, allusion to abortion, pregnancy scare, emotions

Summary: You and Jason are doing a last minute grocery run when you walk by the period products and realize that you’re late. You’re never late. One negative test, however, could change everything.

“Jay?”

It was the cadence of your voice that alerted something was wrong. A subtle hitch at the end of his name that sent a wave of icy cold chills down his spine. He turned from where he was collecting a massive amount of cup ramen and stared blankly at the thin box in your hand.

Jason was due to go out in an hour, but the two of you realized belatedly that you were out of ingredients for breakfast in the morning. There were two options: run by the corner store and grab some things or send you out alone in the morning while he slept in.

Jason Peter Todd would have to be six feet underground again before sending you out into Gotham when he knew that all the active vigilantes were fast asleep. If you were venturing out alone, it would be when someone was awake.

That found you two in the corner store near your apartment, snickering and trading jokes over your shoulders as you shuffled through the aisles. You were clad in one of his sweatshirts that practically drowned you in the cotton fabric and some basketball shorts underneath that he’s pretty sure you stole from Steph. He kept a close eye on you, his body inching around in the smallest increments to ensure that, no matter what, he was always between you and the door. He’d be damned if he lost the one good thing in his life.

“I…I didn’t realize, but then I saw the pads and…I’m late.” Panic was evident in your voice and no matter how desperately he wanted to fucking throw up in the middle of the bodega right then and there, Jason needed to keep it calm and cool right now. He quickly placed the ramen cups back on the counter and reached out, taking the pregnancy test out of your hand.

“Okay,” he said simply. One of his calloused hands came up and rested on your cheek, cradling your face. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, but he could feel the slight tremble in your body.

Fuckfuckfuck. He was on autopilot as he approached the counter, tossed a twenty onto the plastic shelf, and walked out with a pregnancy test in one hand and yours clasped in the other. Jason wants to say something, the right words or placating phrase that will make this all better but he can’t because he can’t fucking think about anything except for the fact that he will be the worst goddamn father on the planet.

Pregnant. Fucking hell. You could be pregnant. They were usually so careful. You were on the pill and he made sure you took it religiously. How the fuck could you be pregnant? He couldn’t be a dad. Willis had been a piece of shit who beat Catherine and basically fucked off into the sunset, leaving him and his mom to fend for themselves. Jason had been just a kid yet he picked his mom up off the ground when she was high out of her mind. Then there was Bruce…

Jason ushered you into the apartment and nudged you gently towards the bathroom. He made sure to lock up behind you and then slowly walked to your bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe and took a moment, just one single moment, to inhale deeply. He needed to be steady and calm for you. He could freak out later when he was patrolling.

Shit, he needed to be suited up and patrolling the Bowery in an hour.

“Babe?” he asked, his knuckles gently hitting the door. You murmured out a quiet welcome and he slipped in before shutting the door behind him. You were curled up against the tub, staring blankly at the wall, and the test rested on the edge of the tub face down.

Jason sat down on the floor across from you and leaned back against the sink. He stretched his legs out and motioned for you to shuffle over to him. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

You dragged yourself across the cold tile floor and settled yourself between his legs, your head resting on his chest. Pressing your ear against the warm scratchy fabric of his shirt and relaxed at the sound of his heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Christ, babe, why the hell’re you apologizing?”

“I don’t know,” you sobbed. “We’ve never talked about it. God, Jase, we’re barely adults ourselves. We’re still trying to figure out how to take care of Merry and Pippin, for fuck’s sake!” You were referencing, of course, the two cats Jason had rescued from a dumpster one night that now slept every night cuddled up against you. Jason had insisted that they were only staying for the night to get them out of the cold.

That had been three months ago and the furry little bastards were currently asleep on top of your pillows.

“Hey, hey.” His lips brushed across the crown of your head as he shushed you. You were shaking in his arms and he hated this. He hated not being able to protect you. Hell, he’s the one that got you into this situation.

“No matter what happens, I’m all in, okay?” His voice sounded weak to his own ears, but you needed to hear this as much as he did. “Whatever you choose, I will support you all the way, you got that?”

“But what if…”

“Sweetheart, you’re the one in control of your body. Whatever you choose will be the best choice for us.”

You fisted the front of his shirt in your hand and bit back a sob. Jason scruffed the back of your neck in a loving gesture, his other arm curling around your waist and tugging you impossibly closer. Jason felt helpless and for a man accustomed to beating the shit out of his problems, he hated that he couldn’t fix this for you.

Your phone started to sing a little chime and you sniffled, reaching over to shut it off. “That means it’s ready. I…I can’t do it.”

He soothed his hand over your hip and kissed your temple. “I’ll do it.”

Truth be told, Jason was terrified. He tried to ignore the slight tremor in his hand as he reached for the bathtub. He didn’t know how he would react to whatever that little stick said. Christ on a handbasket, one little mathematical symbol might change his entire life. He loved being a brother, not that he would ever tell the little gaggle of brats, and he loved being an uncle to Lian, but a father? Could he do that?

There was one thing he didn’t doubt. You would be the best mother in the world. Fiercely loyal, kind, caring, didn’t put up with his bullshit…he could almost picture a toddler on your hip as you smiled at it. But he didn’t see himself there.

Maybe this was a sign that he had tried clinging to his ill-fated happiness for too long.

“Bubs?” Your murmur knocked him out of his thoughts and Jason shook his head.

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“‘S okay,” you said. “I get it.”

Jason inhaled sharply and then flipped over the test. His shoulders dropped at the sight of the minus sign and he extended the test to you. You clasped your hands over the little stick and bowed your head.

Silence enveloped the small, cramped bathroom. Jason studied the broken tile over by the toilet and made a mental note on looking into how to recaulk the shower tiles. They needed another bulb over the sink and maybe a better shower head. Hell, maybe they should paint the bathroom. Anything would be better than the garish lime green the landlord thought would make it look “70s mod”.

“I don’t know what to think,” you finally croaked out. You shuffled out of his hold and turned to face him. His head snapped up and he met your eyes, finding them red rimmed with tears clinging to the edges of your lashes. Jason scooted forward and laid a heavy hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing back and forth.

“Talk to me,” he urged. Selfishly, he needed to hear you voice your thoughts because he was fucking terrified that one day he would come home and find all of your things gone. This life couldn’t be easy for you. He needed to stop doing this shit to you. You deserved a better life.

“I think I need some time to process,” you admitted. “Can I…can we talk about this after you get back?”

That sinking feeling in his chest now felt like leaden rock in his gut. He might prefer a crowbar to the chest instead of the dread that currently consumed him.

“I’m not mad at you,” you blurted out once you saw the wounded look cross his face before he schooled his features like he had been trained. “I’m just feeling a lot of stuff right now and I want to be able to think it out before I say something stupid. I’ll be here when you get back. I promise.”

You reached out and touched his cheek. He turned his head to lay a featherlight kiss against your palm and then stood. “I’ll be home by four.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

He was off his game all night. Jason nearly got shot twice when he finally called it quits and let Steph and Cass take on the Bowery. Dick had tried coaxing out why he was in a piss poor mood, but Jason merely muted his comms and shoved the little device in his pocket. His helmet sat next to him on the roof ledge, leaving him in just a red domino mask.

It was creeping towards three and the tiniest light began to creep across the horizon. The inky black night sky dominated Gotham still and Jason took a little solace in the fact that he was cloaked by the shadows.

It wasn’t enough to hide him from Bruce.

The large shadow of his adoptive father landed beside him. Jason didn’t bother turning to look at him and instead focused straight ahead at the slowly rising sun. Bruce silently sat next to him on the roof, his legs dangling over the side.

Side by side, just like they had all those years ago when Jason was still dressed up as a traffic light and Bruce had been…lighter, for lack of a better word.

“Pregnancy scare,” Jason finally admitted. He knew Bruce wouldn’t ask, but he also knew that Bruce wouldn’t leave until he got a clue as to why Jason was sulking on a rooftop instead of beating the face in of some wannabe trafficker.

Bruce stiffened just slightly and Jason huffed out a laugh. “Relax, it was negative.”

“I thought you would be relieved,” Bruce said. None of his kids had ever expressed any interest in reproducing. In fact, Alfred had money on them picking up his serial adoption habits. Clark was in on the bet too. Bastards.

“I’d be a shit dad,” Jason grunted. “I’d fuck that kid up in the head and probably leave it out on the streets like Willis.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Bruce said it so calmly. So matter of factly. He said it as if it was the truth engraved in granite.

Jason barked out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, and you’re father of the year, right? You get to bestow that honor on the next asshole?”

There was a slight twitch in Bruce’s jaw, one that no one would notice unless you were one of his family members. His piercing gaze stared out on the city he loved so desperately and then he looked at the son he had lost so painfully.

“You would be an amazing father because you would ensure that you didn’t make the same mistakes Willis and I made.”

Jason sucked in a sharp breath at his father’s soft words. He clenched his jaw shut and shook his head. A gloved hand landed on his shoulder and Jason raised his head, meeting the white lenses of the cowl so many feared.

“You love this city so much that you are willing to go to lengths that I can’t bring myself to do. You do things I don’t approve of, but you do it because you care so much that you feel the pain the people feel. You love deeply, Jaylad, you always have. I failed you as a father so many times. I should have never let you become Robin. I should have never let any of you out in the field. You were…you were just a kid.

But the one thing I will never regret is bringing you into our home and our family. Being your father has brought me the greatest sorrow and immense joy of my life and I would never, ever give that up.”

Bruce pulled away and stood up. “You should go home. Talk.”

Jason swallowed against the growing lump in his throat and nodded. “Right. Thanks. Fuck you or whatever.”

Batman’s lips quirked up at the corner and then he sighed. “Nice to see you too, Hood.”

Jason waited until he slipped back into the shadows before he pulled on his helmet and grappled back to the Bowery. He landed on his fire escape and quickly slid in through the window. His entry disturbed Merry who had been sleeping on the windowsill. The cat hissed at him and then hopped down, probably in search of his brother.

“Sorry,” he whispered to the cat. God, he was so whipped.

“Bubs?” Your tired voice came from somewhere in the direction of the kitchen. Jason closed and locked the window and headed towards you. All the lights in the apartment were off except for the small, single bulb that hung over the kitchen. It bathed you in a warm light, highlighting the tired circles under your eyes.

A lukewarm mug of tea and a thousand piece puzzle was scattered on the table before you, your usual routine when you couldn’t sleep and decided to stay up and wait for him. Jason stripped off his gloves, weapons, and jacket and dumped them on the floor and then he tugged off his helmet.

You loved seeing him right after patrol. Not only were you able to reassure yourself that he was safe, but you also got to see him when he was in his element. Sweat strands of hair curled across his forehead and beads of moisture trailed down his neck before seeping into the collar of his undershirt. His powerful thighs were bracketed by his tactical pants and thigh holsters and you sighed at the mere sight of his legs.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart,” Jason teased. His voice was warm, but it lacked the confidence he normally possessed. You curled your hand around the bottom hem of his shirt and tugged him closer, your lips meeting his in a delicate kiss. His hand came up to cup your jaw and he deepened the kiss.

“I want a baby.” The words spilled out of you faster than you could rein in the thought. Jason’s eyes widened and you cursed under your breath.

“You want…a baby,” he repeated.

“With you. I want a baby with you. Not right now. Not even this year. But, I want a kid someday with you. When I saw that negative, I was relieved and then I was-”

He cut you off. “Disappointed. You were disappointed because for a moment, you thought about it and realized that you actually wanted this. Just not right now.”

You nodded and pushed his curly, sweat-drenched hair back from his face. “A little boy with your eyes and smile.”

“Or a little girl with your hair and attitude.”

“I want that, bubs,” you assured him. “I want it all with you. A kid, a life, a house with a picket fence and two point five kids or whatever the fuck the American Dream is supposed to be.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he replied in a choked voice. “I’m not a good man, sweetheart.”

Now you stood. You pulled his head down so his forehead pressed against yours and you rested your other hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“Don’t you dare say that to me, Jason Peter Todd,” you said fiercely. “You are the only man I love. The only man I trust. I wouldn’t want to do life with anyone other than you. I want it all, the good and the bad. You do so much for me and for this city.”

Your hand smoothed down the hair on the back of his neck. “Let me take care of you for once. Let me protect you from that mind of yours. I want to have a baby with you, bubs, because I trust you more than anyone that you would love and cherish and protect us with your entire being.”

“I would crawl out of a grave and dip into the Lazarus pit again and again if it meant keeping you safe,” he whispered fiercely.

“I know.” Tears were spilling down your cheeks. “I love you, Jason. So much.”

He clasped his hand over the one that rested on his chest. All of the doubts and insecurities started to ebb away with your gentle touch and soothing words. He burned with the very thought of you filled with a reminder of him. A signal that he was somehow lucky enough, good enough, blessed to be able to worship you the way you deserved.

Jason slid one of his hands under your ass and hauled you up so your legs wrapped around his waist. He scooted past the now cuddling cats and headed towards the bathroom as you laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“What are you doing?” you exclaimed as he sat you down on the sink counter. Jason reached for the back of his shirt and shot you an incredulous look.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Strip, we need to practice.”

The sun emerged from the darkness finally and bathed Gotham in a rare cloudless sky, but it went unnoticed to the two of you. You were, well, busy.

Tag List: @khaetiin​ @mcrmarvelloki​ @gone-batty-fics​ @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @cursedandromedablack​ @alexxavicry​ @havingarebelliousstage​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @raging-trash-of-mind​ @kat-nee​ @khaylin27​

[ellie-24]

Maybe one day

Summary: You've been Elvis Presley's personal assistant for a few months. After the truth about the Colonel comes out you're there to comfort him.

Basically the scene from the movie and it's aftermath, you can imagine Austin!Elvis or real Elvis, whatever you prefer, though it's definitely Big Daddy Elvis coded.

Word count: ~3.9 k

Warnings: cursing, medical themes, pills, syringes, addiction, the colonel

................................................................................

The hours before the last performance at the International Hotel of this season were horrendous. Everybody was stressed out to the max, doing their best and working to the best of their abilities. You barely saw Elvis that day, sprinting from one place to another, carrying costumes and boxes and whatnot around and made more phone calls than you could count. You went looking for him when a stagehand required his presence for a sound test. When you finally saw him you immediately ran up to him. Despite him being your employer and only having known each other for a few months, the two of you had become good friends. In your first week of working for him he actually tried to sleep with you, but you quickly realised that this was just the way he was around women. After a long conversation with him about keeping your relationship purely professional, you were able to laugh about it. He now often asked you to spend the evenings with him when he didn't want to be alone and needed someone to just talk to. You really enjoyed his company as you often got to see the sensitive side of him and you knew that he trusted you.

Just as you wanted to open your mouth to tell him that he was needed onstage, you were interrupted by Jerry, who sounded rather upset.

He started talking about the Colonel and the international tour. You ears perked up at this. Your tried to keep up with them as they almost raced through the corridor. Maybe Jerry had figured something out. That would be great, Elvis would finally get what he has wanted for a long time you thought, a smile forming on your face. Yet, what you actually heard from him shook you to the core and made you question everything. Gone was the hope you felt a few seconds ago.

 

He told you that the Colonel was nothing but a swindler, an illegal immigrant with no real name or passport and debts as high as the Empire State Building. He told you that this was the reason he always found excuse after excuse to stay within the USA. You didn’t even have the time to question how he knew this or to register the full gravitas of this betrayal, because you suddenly felt a large body collapsing against yours. Your ears started to ring, everybody around you was now shouting and screaming. When you hit the floor you realized Elvis had passed out and fell against you, knocking you both down to the floor. Your ears were still ringing from the shock, or the shouting, you didn’t know, and you felt his heavy body on top of yours. Then somebody lifted him off of you and put his head into a bucket of ice water, wanting him to wake up again.

 

The loud ringing in your ears finally stopped after a few seconds and you pulled him out of the water, putting his head on your lap. You felt the icy cold water seep through the fabric of your pants onto your thighs but you didn’t care. "Elvis!" you nearly screamed, panic filling your voice. His eyes slowly opened and his unfocused gaze turned to you. "Elvis, oh my god, can you hear me?" you asked, wiping the wet hair from his forehead. His eyes fell shut again and he quietly whimpered. "Somebody call an ambulance!" 

"Dr. Nick is already on his way!" somebody shouted. You couldn’t even make out who it was in this chaos. 

"What if it’s something serious? What if he has a stroke or something!" you yelled at no one in particular. You were scared shitless and lightly slapped his deathly pale cheek, urging him to open his eyes again. "Elvis!" you called out his name over and over again.

"Doctor Nick will know what it is!" another voice shouted and you looked over to them, utter incomprehension written all over your face.

Elvis’ eyes then started to flutter and incoherently mumbled something. 

He was completely out of it. Your hands, still on his soft cheeks, slowly and gently caressed the now clammy skin. "Elvis, this is Y/N. Can your hear me?"

"Y/N?" he asked, his eyes still unfocused. His hand wildly moved around, seemingly searching something. You quickly reached out for it and gasped when you felt him take it in an almost bruising grip. "I’m here." you whispered, feeling helpless. 

You tried to ignore the pain as he held onto your hand like a lifeline, still stroking his cheek and looking into his eyes. They slowly focused more and more on your face and you saw a bit of color coming back to his face. And although he was slowly coming back to life you were still far from relieved. It could still be something serious. Your whole body began shake uncontrollably from the adrenaline, your hand trapped in his death grip being your only unmoving body part.

 

When you heard the Colonel’s voice in the distance you felt cold chills running down your spine. You weren’t able to think straight and he was the very reason Elvis was probably laying in your lap right now. Though you always had a very sketchy feeling about the Colonel, you refused to believe that there wasn’t some sort of explanation for this whole mess. He couldn’t have lied to everyone all this time and sabotaged Elvis’ career. You just didn't want it to be true, for Elvis' sake. He was already so vulnerable as it is. 

"The most important thing is, that this man gets up on that stage tonight!" he yelled and you couldn’t believe your ears, convinced that you heard him wrong.

 

"Y/N." Elvis muttered. You ran a hand over his wide chest and gently shushed him.

"Colonel! He needs to go to the hospital. He can’t possibly perform tonight!" you shouted. 

"Now, I wonder what the papers would say then! It’s bad PR! He will do his show!"

"Look at him!" you were screaming by now.

 

"You better shut up now stupid girl, or I’ll have you fired right now! Dr. Nick, what can you do?" he hissed, pointing his cane at you.

You sat back with a shocked look on your face and tears pricking your eyes, feeling confused, defeated and angry with yourself. You tried to talk again, shout or scream if necessary, but no sound would leave your mouth. You were completely frozen to the spot, the shock taking over completely. You had no further time to think about that when you saw Elvis looking up to you with worried eyes and whispering your name again. He wasn’t back completely, but had a rough grasp of the situation. He clutched your hand even tighter.

"Elvis, I’m sorry. It’s going to be alright." you whispered with a lump in your throat. You leaned down and kissed his forehead when Dr. Nick started injecting something with a syringe.

About an hour later you sat in his dressing room and watched him through the mirror, striding around like a caged animal. He was more or less himself again. Yet, you had a more than doubtful look on your face.

"Stop that, Y/N." he warned carefully, pointing a finger at you.

"...You don’t have to do this. If you’re not feeling up to it then that’s okay."

"Y/N it’s not okay. I’m Elvis Presley. The fans... expect something from me. I-I can't let them down. I won’t- I can’t cancel the show…. Also, I feel much better now." he argued weakly.

"Ah, yes." you nodded, not believing a word. He gave you another warning look. "And what about the 'Colonel'?" you asked with a bit of a provocative tone. You felt extremely tense, ready to snap at any given moment.

"The little shit. I don’t fucking know Y/N!" he yelled angrily. He was angry at the Colonel, or whoever he really was, and at himself. He felt betrayed and hurt and incredibly naive and stupid. He hated the way this old shit talked to you. He hated that you had seen him like this. He hated the way he was letting out his anger on you right now. Sweet you, who only wanted to help and gently held him in your arms about an hour ago. He wanted you to leave the dressing room before he said something he regretted. 

"Y/N, w-will you just go and check if everything and e-everyone is ready?" he asked in a strained voice.

You hesitantly looked at him, swallowed back tears for the second time that day and nodded. Without another word you left the dressing room and he ran a hand over his face. With a scream he smashed a glass from the table against the wall.

 

What you witnessed later that evening would permanently burn itself into your mind. The way Elvis was practically pleading for help onstage and fired his year long manager and trusted friend in a blind, though justifiable, rage. The way he just stormed off and left a horrified audience and confused staff behind.

Fueled by Elvis' anger you made your way over to the Colonel. "Are you proud of yourself?" you asked. "You really are the worst! I hope you enjoy your retirement!" you spat and turned on your heel to follow Elvis upstairs.

You opened the door to his apartement and saw him pressing his burning face against cold glass window of his suite. He was apathetic, not even acknowledging you storming into his suite. You went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water for him and tried to ignore the open pill bottle next to the sink with some of its content strewn all over the counter. You didn’t want to know how many of them he had just swallowed. You fumbled around in the cupboards, your shaking hands nearly dropping everything.

He pressed his face even closer to the glass, his breath nearly fogging his view. Putting up his hands as well he whispered "Y/N...Have you ever wondered what it would be like to just… fly?"

 

"What? Did you say something?" you asked hastily, not hearing him over all the clinking and clanking you caused.

"Nothing."

You slowly approached him with a worried look on your face, not wanting to scare him. Handing him the glass you whispered "Here. Drink something."

 

"...What is going on down there?" he asked after downing the glass. 

You took the glass from him to fetch some more. "I don’t really know, I almost immediately ran after you." you shrugged and raised your eyebrows. "A lot of confusion and dismay."

 

"I hope that old bastard is shitting his pants right now. I don’t want to see his fucking face ever again. Stupid fucker." he cursed, downing his second glass you had just pressed into his hands.

 

"I still can’t believe it. He lied to you for years and years. I refused to believe it when Jerry told us. It must have been even harder for you, he’s been part of your life for so long..."

"I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier."

 

"...He’s a seller. Through and through. Not only selling his merchandise but also himself. He’s good at what he does, there's no denying that. I kinda fell for that trick as well Elvis. Everybody did."

 

"When he shouted at you… I don’t know, but that was the last straw for me. It made me so angry. Still does."

 

You raised your eyebrows again. "Though he was always weird I really thought he wanted the best for your career. More importantly the best for you. But when he refused to take you to a hospital… I swear I could have slapped him across the face." you huffed.

 

He couldn’t hold back a small smile at the mental image. His tranquilizing pills started their effect as well, making him feel more relaxed. Yet, his face quickly transformed into a worried frown when he saw your face contort in anger. He had never seen you like this.

"It was just so ... I don't know. How he forced you to play the show. And Dr. Nick... I’m sorry I didn’t prevent it. I was stuck. I should have done more!" you ran a hand over your face. 

"Sweetheart… Colonel is an intimidating man. When he wants something, he gets it." he said, putting his hands on your arms. "And I’m actually used to… this. This isn’t the first time something like this happened..." 

You were shocked. You had been around for a few months now, but still rather new at all this. "...He really thinks that your body belongs to him doesn’t he. Its so dehumanizing! Like… where is the dignity in this? He’s using you... like one of his damn circus animals!" You wildly flung your arms around. 

He let out a humorless laugh. "I discovered that there isn’t much dignity for superstars like me…" 

You looked at him, chewing on your thumb, not knowing what to say.

 

In a softer voice he continued "...Sometimes I do feel like... I don’t belong to myself… Sometimes I don’t even know... who I am." 

"...What do you mean?" you asked, collecting yourself.

 

He sat down at the piano. "See, there’s uh Elvis Presley the superstar, the entertainer. A-And then.. there’s little ol’ me…" he shrugged with another humorless laugh.  "B-But everyone only cares about one of them. It’s impossible to live up to an image people have..."

 

"Well." you hesitantly started. "I think I’ve met both of them in our short time together... and I definitely prefer little ol’ you." you said with a smile. He just stared at you in wonder, no one has ever told him this. And although this was something he knew about you deep inside, it was nice to hear you say it out loud.

 

"But you have to stop seeing 'Elvis Presley' as this… thing you can’t control. Being 'Elvis Presley' is part of you."

"Sometimes I just wonder why me? Sometimes…  I just don’t want to be 'Elvis Presley'... It’s too much." 

You nodded sympathetically. "... I understand that. I guess. You should be able to take a break if you need it." you furrowed your brows. "But I think you are who you are for a reason… and... you are enough, if you are wondering about that. For me at least." you finished while running a hand over his back, standing next to him now. 

He turned his head away from you, hiding his face. "...Why are you here anyway? I-I didn’t ask you to come up. Y-you never come around on your own." 

At first you didn’t know what to say. "Elvis, I know that I work for you… but still...we’re friends aren’t we?" 

He hesitantly nodded.

 

You smiled. "...Friends help each other. Listen to each other. Comfort each other... I... felt like you needed all these things right now." 

A rather long silence followed until he whispered "I do." so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it. He slowly turned his head and pressed his face against your middle. You were a bit taken aback but slowly put your arms around him from above, shushing him. He took it as a sign that this was okay and quickly put his arms around your waist. He held you to him even more tightly when he felt you stroke his hair.

"Elvis, you made the right decision. We'll take care of everything else tomorrow.

He shivered a little and you settled into a comfortable silence.

"...I’m glad you’re here with me Y/N." he eventually whispered. 

"I’m glad to be here for you." you answered truthfully. 

After a while you felt his arms around you begin to loosen. When you looked down at his face you saw that his eyes fell shut again and again and he struggled to keep them open. 

"Hey. You want to go to bed now? The day is catching up with you I think. It was more than exhausting. You should get some rest." The pills he took a few minutes ago surely were catching up with him as well, but you didn’t mention that. 

He shook his head and tightened his grip around you again. 

"...Elvis, you should rest. You can’t sleep like this. Come on." You slowly untangled yourself from him and he looked up to you with a longing in his eyes you didn’t quite understand.

 

"Don’t go." he said softly. You had your doubts, thinking about the purely professional relationship you two had. In reality there was no denying that there was some form of deeper affection between you and him for some time now, but you refused to act on it. Yet, after seeing that he couldn’t be alone with himself right now, you nodded.

"I won’t." You took his hand. "But you should go to bed. I can sit with you until you fall asleep, alright?"

 

He nodded and rubbed his eyes with a sigh.

"But first let's get you out of this jumpsuit alright?" you said as you helped him stand.

He still had his eyes closed, but raised an appreciative eyebrow.

"Don't get any funny thoughts, Presley." you joked, trying to calm your nerves.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Y/N." he slurred after he plopped down on the edge of his bed with a grunt. "Dammit my head." he mumbled and pressed his hand against his sweaty forehead. You sighed and retrieved his robe that you ironed earlier that day and a wet washcloth from the bathroom. Then you made your way back to him and started to carefully unzip his jumpsuit, revealing his hairy, wide chest and his round stomach. His eyes remained closed and his head swayed lightly back and forth as if he would fall asleep any second. You pulled his arms out as well and lowered the fabric down to his hip. You hesitated and looked at the ceiling.

"...You can look, Y/N. Nothing special to see anyway." he mumbled sleepily.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden insecurity "...It's not the honorable thing to look. Has no one ever told you that?"

He smirked. "The hero always takes a little peek, Y/N. Has no one ever told you that?" he mimicked your tone.

"So, I'm a hero now?"

"Sure thing sweetheart. You're the uh Shazam to my Captain Marvel Jr."

You laughed. "And you're a crazy man-child."

"Now hold on... who's blushing and avoiding their eyes here like a teenager? Not me, dearest Y/N." he said with a playful sigh.

You rolled your eyes and helped him wriggle out of the jumpsuit with a "Touché". Then you put his robe around him and supported his back when you saw he wasn't able to keep himself upright anymore. You quickly fluffed out his pillow with one hand and guided him backwards.

"Here you go big boy. Lay down for me." you whispered and grabbed the washcloth. Carefully, as not to startle him, you ran it over his burning cheeks and forehead, making him groan.

"Are you okay?" you asked.

He just hummed.

You raised your eyebrows and gently moved the wet cloth down his neck towards his chest and stomach, his breathing pick up under your hand. You felt your cheeks heating up again at the feeling of the soft and plush skin under your hand and tried to finish your task as quick as possible. Though it was actually rather... nice to touch him like that. When you brushed over his nipple he let out a hiss and you tried surpress the ache in your lower belly. He might not think of himself as attractive anymore but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the absolute beauty of a man in front of you. You slowly pressed your legs together, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"I'm beginning to think you enjoy this, sweetheart." he smiled, but in his eyes you saw the same self-conciousness you did when you pulled down his jumpsuit minutes ago.

Damn. "Maybe I am." you shrugged. "Who knows?"

"...Y/N, don't do that." he said, suddenly very serious.

"Do what?"

"... Just don't. Can't have that tonight."

You put a hand on his cheek, feeling the roughness of his sideburns.

"Elvis, what is it?"

He longingly looked into your eyes.

"You know, Y/N."

Of course you knew. He already made many attempts to win you over. To make you change your mind about the status of the relationship the two of you had. His constant flirting with you that he sometimes disguised as playful joking or banter. And as much as you'd like to give in you didn't want to risk your job. That's why you had to defuse the situation you were in currently as quickly as possible. It became rather risky right now.

"...Elvis, you're tired. The day was... emotionally and physically... draining for you... Y-you don't know what you're saying."

He reached up and absentmindedly played with a strand of your hair. "I do." he whispered.

You ran a and over your face with a sigh. "Elvis-" you began.

"I understand, Y/N." he interrupted and lowered his hand again. Maybe one day, he thought as he watched your eyes fill with guilt.

After a few seconds of heavy silence you stood up to bring the washcloth back to the bathroom.

"Y/N?" he asked, a bit alarmed.

"I'll be back in a second."

After splashing some cold water in your face and taking a few deep breaths in the bathroom you returned to him again. You were surprised to find him still awake, watching you intently. You hugged yourself and awkwardly stood in front of him.

He looked at you with a silent question in his eyes. You closed your eyes and tried to find the willpower to leave the suite. But you quickly realised this was a battle you just wouldn't win and sat down next to him with your back flat against the headboard. You looked straight ahead, not really knowing what to do with yourself.

 

He slowly turned over to his side with a grunt and looked up to you. "C-Can I-" he started the question, eyeing your thighs.

 

It took you a moment to understand what he wanted to do. "Yes." you eventually whispered.

He then put his head into your lap, almost the same way it had been a few hours ago. He let out a sigh of relief, grabbed one of your hands and put it onto his head, making his request unmistakably clear. You smiled and began to gently caress his hair. He slowly put his arms around you in a tight embrace and carefully nuzzled his face against your stomach.

"...I-I'm sorry about yelling at you earlier today. I-I didn't mean it... you know how I get."

"Forvigen and forgotten already, Elvis."

"Good." he mumbled and closed his eyes.

 

He couldn’t believe how content and safe he felt with you, the voices in his mind finally a lot more quiet. "Sometimes I feel like you’re the only one who truly cares about me." he murmured, already half asleep. It didn’t take long until you heard quiet snores from him, but even in his sleep he wouldn’t let go of you.

...............................................................................

[wh-da-backup]

lyric scraps 8/1/13

5/23/13 you went to saturday night's party and woke up on sunday's floor

5/14/12 i expected you to speak as i dream i'm sorry understand i say things as a friend and sometimes more than

my noose was your tongue the words were sending out but the connection hung

5/16/12 four years down the road or four years down the drain drawing blood from my veins and pictures of my brain

4/25/12 i'm sick of society how they try to measure sins by how great the tragedy and how small the violins

4/26/12 i'm not the favorite anymore and maybe with good cause i sensed you pulling away from me and i took out my claws

6/6/12 i'll drown in your deluge i'm acting like a stooge got nothing left to lose this point in time

5/20/12 when you feel like you need a brother and the mirrors tell you to kill know that tears run thicker than blood and always will

5/28/12 they call me a fool a inconsiderate ass ya know i go to school but i ain't got no class

4/2/12 i'm going to visit the boy i love he speaks to me through he speaks to me through old sound waves not yet rotten i'm going to visit the girl he loved she speaks to me too she speaks to me too dead voices not forgotten

we killed them slowly as we took over we need their bodies it's only instinct they couldn't handle the situations what killed them slowly and scarred their bodies we have their memories

6/1/12 high school queen bee bitch honey has she seen me? does she think it's funny?

7/5/12 i can feel something restless and waiting inside of me maybe it's anxiety or anticipation or maybe it's pee i count all the liquids in my life face moisturizer and water and key lime juice and an aqueous solution of coffee in the morning

5/30/12 you can say i'm old even without you you smell like a dissection your words are cutting too

5/31/12 our cage arcades our cage arcades

10/5/12 parlons, parlons c'est interdit car il n'ya pas de mots ici

reviens, reviens, c'est vrai enfin que les vrais mots n'importent rien

5/10/12 i wanna be your test drive don't forget your gasoline you can rule what hearts you want to let me be your blueprint scheme demo queen

1/11/13 the sound of your voice can disarm me a cat been picked up by the scruff i've known all along you'd never harm me but i guess it just wasn't enough i guess it wasn't enough

10/9/12 you are not my love you walk around in his clothes you walk around in his face but you are not my love we're dying trying to replace

1/13/13 hey dad too bad your rules are made of bread not iron clad

i heard you don't like my hair too much here, wrong color there well guess what, i can still go anywhere, sit in the boss's chair

5/30/13 pomme empoisonnee je vais te faire rester chante pour moi dans la claire de l'une de tes 8/1/13 reves qui sont vrai

4/8/12 he had it figured out in terms of fairytales

and when he tried for wonderland he didn't think of you

and when you tried to understand

and if you try to follow him you'll just be split in two

4/30/12 she's bleach, she's ice, she's milk and candy queen of tragic hearts like yours she never asked for any trouble shredding flowers on all fours

pills and poultice kicking stomachs underwater leaden petals bite if you dare but make it swift bite all you want but only if

drawing faces everywhere, an audience of millions' stares

6/4/12 i feel like the past year's a waste i know i've traveled the world but i'm worse or the same

i'm sure you've heard that there's plenty of fish in the sea but i hide in my shell; you're allergic to me

3/21/13 sleeping like a beauty queen found the spindle at age 16 decided she would join the team said this is better than any dream

4/6/13 all calmed down and jaded and my scars already faded should i make new what should i do?

4/6/13 music is her sustenance she lives on jupiter and mars

2/18/13 i showed up and the entire party was passed out- now that's what i call the collective unconscious!

april/13 "ex box" i'll put you in a box with my mistakes love letters, memories, old tapes and hopefully in 10 more years i will not sit here playing couldabeen

3/17/13 fall apart but don't fall off

3/18/13 i knew all your favorites and i thought i made the list

you gave me so much but i have nothing left of you

you don't have a clue you don't give a shit do you not even about the few who even deign to talk to you

3/28/13 trust your instincts if he seems like bad news then you better call the papers on him

4/10/12 my body's wooden and man-made am i ripe for the fire am i meant to be saved when i lie there is consequence i lie against my will but i don't want to be a real boy real boys only kill

1/3/12 (poem thing- it was on my phone and i kept forgetting about it)

what drives this endless cycle in our lives? sleep deprivation all work and no play it's only survival in a way

what gives? the story is sad but true my friend it may seem crazy but in the end the lunatic is the one that lives

7/25/13 when i say i've lost my mind can't tell if it's gone or just something i can't find

7/22/13 say so many things at once that for a moment i can forgive and forget myself

6/27/13 and to be honest i think i'm kind of ugly but i don't care and to be honest i think i'd probly kiss you if you were here

and now you're 19, it seems so strange how we would freak out all the time and talk to ease the pain and when we're 30, please don't forget me

5/26/13 sharpened pencil and liar's skin i tried to fight back i got all the guilt you lack i've been taught to let people like you win fuck that

1/21/13 take your medicine (take it with a grain of salt)

your voice of reason doesn't talk here comes the lady made of clock- work, time for your electric shocks

2/13/13 and our time wasn't wasted like i wish i were tonigh

2/17/13 you grew and clipped my wings time and time again you made me learn how to get by on my own mind just far enough to be alright i'm ready

the change will come and will occur and i will learn from changing

5/22/12 i wanna sit in a room for hours and play you all my songs especially the ones about you but not even my closest friends pay attention for very long

3/6/13 the sight of the pacific- california i wrote some words specifically for ya

3/10/13 i refuse to comb my hair more power to my righteous mop i'll put a sign says please don't stare right over your sign says i must be stopped

3/15/13 stripped of the words you hear and now my teeth are bare 3/12 offend because it's there

3/14/13 empty stomach sleep 3/15 i choke on wool, lose count of sheep

3/15/13 i make my promises to break… they're not your dreams to take

lay and lose my head i fall, land screaming in my bed neurapparatus, nightmare plague the cause is rather vague

3/23-24/13 "waltz time" my parents are pretty my sisters are pretty my weird friends from school grew up normal and cool

how come i have to live with my failures, my faults it's like life is in 4/4 and all i can do is the waltz

5/25/13 i stepped on a rose and sprinkled the sidewalk with blood from my toes

3/8/13 "home groan" i dreamed that someday i'd get to walk in the sun but i wasn't even playing outside when it went down

6/16/13 you taught me every lie i've ever known you told me to fit in or be alone but look how i've survived and how i've grown in spite of you

you said i'd reached developmental halt that all the crimes against me were my fault so i became numb bleeding out my shame with only me to blame or so i thought wrong

i will flourish free of your flaws your flaws are not my problem my flaws are not yours to harm me with

6/26/13 i wouldn't call it small talk because you're all talk

let's light up some neural circuits

6/7/13 i had to jump ship, it got too weighed-down to float i took off in the dinghy with the songs that i wrote…

i had to jump ship, it got too heavy to float and maybe we should kiss just to shut up our ghosts i don't care one way or another, but we came so close all those years ago

we'll report back to captain karo on our empty boat

(cause you know whatever happens you know we got her vote)

4/22/13 in this great ablation nation

4/28/13 no one appreciates so we inondate run out and replicate,

overcompensate

-

cry exterminate

we've run out of things to say you're full of air,

flatten like souffle

- if you don't, i may

mere exposure, love you cause you're there

4/23/13 changes of mind come in liquids and pills

you can't even start to tell the difference between a change of mind and a change of heart

6/11/13 we've got lines upon lines of no sleeping and papers for the final review you just seem to keep on keeping but me i just don't know what to do i have no clue

[nyxdelanuit]

Little Mouse (Kuroo x F!Reader)

thank you, my love <3 and of course, I will give you your husband lol WARNINGS AHEAD: fuck or die, babes. NSFW abound. 

You knew that you wouldn’t get your dream job straight out of grad school. And you were fine with that, really. It didn’t hurt that your closest coworker was terribly attractive… You just wished you were working on something less… unsavory.

 But 'dick pills,' as Kuroo so elegantly referred to them as, paid the big bucks. So you shrugged it off, hoping that if you worked your hardest, you could move onto something better soon. Unfortunately, the trials brought up and unexpected and fatal side effect. If the test subject didn't… complete, preferably with a partner, their heart would become arrhythmic, and eventually stop. It was a little annoying, especially with Kuroo getting distracted and frustrated, trying to figure out what exactly was wrong.

When he got particularly frustrated, he liked to come tease you. The two of you had worked closely long enough for you to move around each other like second-nature. But when he got annoyed, he moved into your space, played with your hair, called you such pretty names…

 What a tease.

 Sure, maybe you did harbor feelings for him. And yeah, you might have thought about him, once or twice, as you laid in bed alone. But that didn’t mean he could just play with you like that.

 “Come on, princess. They won’t miss us for thirty minutes. Let’s get out of here.” He grinned down at you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

 “Kuroo, please. We’re on a deadline.” You tried to fight the flush you felt heating your cheeks.

 "Come on, lil mouse, there are quite a few tests I could use you for." He cocked an eyebrow at you, and you smacked his arm in retaliation. You couldn't let him know what those words did to you. He stumbled back, playing along with your lackluster hit. It would typically make you chuckle, at least a little bit, but the resounding shatter of glass on the tile killed the sound in your throat.

 The only thing that had been sitting on the counter behind him had been the samples you had been using to pinpoint the problem, a pure serum of the substance used in the pills, corked and sealed to prevent the fumes from escaping outside of the hoods scattered around the room.

 “Hey, lil mouse… please tell me you were a few seconds from figuring out what was wrong with this stuff.” Kuroo’s eyes met yours, pleading. You shook your head, you hadn’t. Those samples hadn’t even been under a vent hood, how careless could you be? Redness rose on Kuroo’s face, and it finally snapped you out of your daze long enough for you to press the big button near the door, sealing off the room and opening the ventilation system to clear out the remainder of the volatile fumes from the concoction spilled out over the floor.

 Kuroo had moved to the opposite side of the room, curled in on himself with his back facing you. You worked quickly to clean up the remnants, knowing that it would affect you less. Still, as you disposed of the glass and dirtied rags, you felt your pulse pick up.

 “Kuroo…” You tried to grab his attention.

 “Tetsurou. You may as well call me by my first name, lil mouse. Looks like I’ll get to run those tests on you after all.” He didn’t turn to face you as he began stripping off his lab coat and shirt with deft fingers. You had heard he played volleyball in high school, but you had never noticed how nice his fingers looked…

 Kuroo was red from the shoulders up, clad now in only his pants. You couldn’t deny that you would find it insanely attractive even without the help of the drug quickly coursing through your veins. Kuroo finally turned to face you, the image something you had only dreamed of while you were knuckle deep in yourself.

 Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he paid it no mind. Instead, he stalked toward you, boxing you in between him and the sturdy lab table at your back. You could resist, could try to reason your way out of this… but…

 "Please, little mouse." He pleaded, bringing your hand to his bare chest, his thrumming heart fluttering under your touch. It wouldn't be fair of you to deny him, not now. As soon as he saw the hesitance leave your face, he dipped in. The first brush of your lips was soft, sweet. Something akin to the first kiss lovers would have, instead of whatever this was. Once you tasted him, it was all over for you.

 Your hands found his hair, and he pressed you greedily to his body. You met in a flurry of lips and teeth, hands wasting no time in pulling off your coat and ripping the shirt from your chest. His lips followed shortly after, laving across your torso before his hands found the clasp at your back. With a gasp, your breasts were bare to the cold lab air. They pebbled with the cold air, only worsening as Kuroo enveloped one with his mouth.

 “As much as I would love testing your every sensitivity, I don’t think I can wait little mouse. His fingers made short work of the button of your pants, dipping down to your dripping heat with little resistance. He spread around your slick with a smile, at least you seemed to need it just as bad as he did. Kuroo helped you shuck your pants and panties, sparing a moment to stare up at you.

 He grunted as he remembered his predicament, quickly standing to release himself from the constraint of his pants. You couldn’t help the whine that escaped your throat at the sight of his length, swollen and ruddy, pearls of fluid leaking from the tip. If this had been any other time, you wouldn’t have wasted a moment dropping to your knees to lap it up, to savor his taste.

 Your moment of daydreaming must have been too much for him, as Kuroo turned you forcefully, leaning you over the table. You felt the scorching heat of his skin at your back, a drastic contrast to the icy countertop at your breast.

 “Sorry, little mouse. If we had time, I’d prep you so well. I’d have you begging for my cock.” He lined himself up with your heat, releasing a breathy moan as his swollen head glided through your folds. With a hand braced on your shoulder, he sheathed himself in one thrust.

 The stretch was uncomfortable but manageable. If there was one up-side to being inadvertently dosed, at least it helped ease the discomfort. Kuroo tried to hold back, but his restraint quickly waned, feeling your warm walls constrict around his dick. Sharp thrusts push and pull you along the tabletop, the cold surface rubbing your nipples to the point of pain, but it doesn't taint the pleasure of Kuroo thrusting within you mercilessly. You can't even push back, your feet not finding purchase on the tile of the floor.

 Kuroo seemed to be annoyed by this too, pulling himself from your heat. You whined at the loss, but he shushed you as he helped you stand on shaky feet. With your balance restored, he draped your leg over his hip, plunging back into your core with a bitten curse. The table bit into your back awkwardly, but you couldn't find it within yourself to care as Kuroo's hand gripped your thigh, pulling you further onto his length. You were finally able to move against him, bringing moans and strangled sighs from the both of you. Your nails bit into the nape of his neck, but that only seemed to drive him further. The grip on your thigh was bruising, and you were ashamed to be thankful that you'd at least have the marks to remember this from.

 Kuroo released his lip from in between his teeth long enough to swallow your keening moans. “Little mouse, you fit me so well. If I had known, I would have done this sooner.” He grunted as his words caused you to clench around him. “Such a good little mouse.” His thrusts started becoming rougher, reaching you deeper, but he still wasn’t satisfied. You had no choice but to follow him as he sunk down, dragging you by the hips. Once you were safely on the floor, he flipped the two of you.

 You don't think you've ever felt so small as you did under Kuroo. He practically folded you in half with ease, hissing as he pushed himself to your limit. "Fuck, princess. You're doing so well for me." Each thrust seemed to pull the breath from your lungs, and yet you knew that the cries echoing in the room were yours. Especially with Kuroo's lip being worried between his teeth. His eyes were on you, though, and how you could have missed the fire raging in them, you didn't know.

 A few adjustments, and Kuroo was sitting on his knees, pounding into you like his life depended on it. Some sick twisted humor in your head reminded you that it did, but you tucked that away to worry about later. Kuroo was now dragging his swollen head across your deepest depths, hitting your most sensitive spots with each pull. “Come on, little mouse. Cum all over my cock.” His calloused fingers, long and practiced, trailed in between your bodies. It was rough and on the verge of painful against your clit, but that was all you needed to snap over the edge. Your release poured over Kuroo’s cock, drenching his pants.

 “Te-Tetsu, I can’t..” You gasped as he bucked with abandon, working you through your orgasm to the point of overstimulation.

 “Fuck, princess. I can’t take it when you say my name like that.” He groaned, your legs bending even further as he laid his head on your shoulder. You tried to call out his name again, but he was relentless, chasing his high, and only half-formed syllables fell from your lips. Tears clung to your lashes, and you could feel the roughness in your throat from the cries you couldn’t hold back.

 “Fuck, little mouse. Take it all, please. Take it.” His lips attached to your neck as he twitched within you, setting off another fluttering release from you. He suckled at the spot as he groaned, thick ropes of cum painting your insides.

 He lowered your legs slowly, rubbing circles into your thighs in apology, but didn't remove himself. He placed a chaste kiss on the darkening skin on your neck, and your fingers sought out his chest. Just above his heart, you let your hand rest. He must have had the same thought, his lips gently placed against your pulse. Relief washed through you as you felt the tired muscle return to its normal rhythm, the sigh against your skin, convincing you that he had come to the same conclusion.

 Funny how you had thought about each other before yourselves.

 “Well, little mouse.” He chuckled, removing himself to collapse on the cold tile. He pulled you to his side before you could get up, and you didn’t have the energy to resist. “We should do this again. Well, not the whole, life-threatening drug thing. Just us. You and me, and a few more tests for my little mouse. Sound good?”

TAGLIST: @beatific-drabbles​ @animefandomally​ @moonsaye​ @dadchis-girl​ @verdandi24-blog​ @cornchipsanddip​ @gokm1023​ @super-haikyuu-hotline​ @rocorambles​ @say-my-name-assbut​

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Small Time Witch (18)

The compound was quiet except for the constant hum of fluorescent. The five of you walked in like children in trouble for missing curfew. You and Wanda held hands, passing each other secret messages. For once she was the bundle of nerves. You were calm. Chillingly calm. You ran your thumb over her knuckles and squeezed every now and then. She squeezed back holding on to you for dear life. She didn’t know why her stomach was in knots but it was.

Bucky and Sam stalked around the room on kittens feet. They checked around corners and opened doors. Sam thought about an episode of Scooby Doo that always creeped him out. The gang was in an old factory searching by flashlight when an idle machine kicked on. Like it was on cue the elevator dinged. He nearly jumped out of his skin. Off walked Tony who seemed to be just as startled. “Why are you guys creeping around? We have to get going.”

Bucky and Steve looked tense. All stiff with their brows furrowed and nostrils flared. Their fists were clenched ready to fight. You held Bucky’s right hand to calm him down. When you tried to grab Steve’s hand he pulled it away. On the long ride back you and Steve sat in the back seat while Sam drove. You rested your head on his chest. He held you lazily not really reciprocating the need to touch. He looked out of the window mostly. Deep in thought. Perhaps he had noticed your bracelet back on your wrist. Perhaps he noticed your kiss swollen lips. Maybe it was the tears shimmering in your eyes and the look of longing on your face that he knew were not for him. Perhaps he knew you had made your choice in the beautiful house built in the glen. Perhaps you didn’t even know that you had. For the first time it wasn’t him. No. He didn’t want to be calm now. He needed his adrenaline rushing and his senses heightened. Maybe after this you wouldn’t choose him but he knew in his heart you loved him. More than anything he knew in his heart how much he loved you.

“Looking for you, boss.” you said, sarcasm tinting your voice.

“Well you found me.” Something icy cold passed between you and Tony. He had one finger on the trigger and he was itching to squeeze. Your confidence was making him edgy. He wasn’t scaring you but he knew you knew something was happening. That’s ok. When you didn’t have your man protecting you he bet you would adjust your attitude.

“Ok. If you two strapping men can help load a few things on the jet I would appreciate it. I’m running point on this one.” Steve and Bucky reluctantly left to help Clint. Tony looked at you over his glasses, “You’re with me, Sunshine.”

Sam followed the two of you towards the door, “You flying separate?”

“Yeah. Two teams. Rhodes and Romanoff are already on board. We’ll see you in Juneau.” You followed behind Tony trying to match his long strides. He was clearly trying to get you out of there before Steve got back inside. Sam and Wanda took off running to the airstrip.

“Cap! Y/N went on a separate aircraft with Tony Rhodes and Romanoff. I couldn’t stall him without raising an eyebrow, man. I’m sorry.”

Steve dropped the box he was holding and ran to the runway where you were taking off. Your plane was already in the air. “Barton! Clint! We gotta go.”

“Sorry, Steve. I can’t fly that plane.”

“What?! Why not?”

“I have direct orders to keep you here for as long as possible.”

“I can fly the Quinjet, Steve.” Bucky could no longer hide his anger. He wanted to stomp Clint into the ground.

Clint puffed up his chest and took a few deep breaths. “Hit me. Make it look real.”

“What?” Steve was so scared for you that he couldn’t comprehend words.

“If that was Laura I would kill anyone who laid a hand on her. Flight plan is already loaded onto the gps. Hit me, Steve. I have to make it look like I put up a fight.” Without thinking Bucky cocked back his right hand and smashed it into Clint’s eye. He stumbled back and fell towards the ground. Wanda used her powers to get him down gently. They all got oh the Quinjet and prepared to take off.

☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️

Everyone on the plane looked relaxed but they were all on edge. Nat sat next to Rhodey. Neither of them made eye contact with you. You sat down in a row of seats by yourself. This looked like a luxury aircraft but you were certain Tony tricked it out. You looked out the window watching New York disappear. This may be the last time you’d see it. The whole place was a sea of glittering lights all glorious in their gaudiness. You ran your fingers over the emeralds on your bracelet hoping Loki followed your instructions.

Tony came over with a glass of water and your pill bottle. “Isn’t it time to take your meds?” He fished one out and handed it to you. “Take it here. Show daddy like a good girl.” You lifted the glass to your lips maintaining eye contact with him the whole time. You lifted your tongue and fish hooked your cheeks. “Thank you, dear.” Once he walked away you quickly reached in your bag to grab your tablets. You popped two and hoped for the best.

A few minutes later Fury was sitting across from you. “I love flying at night,” you said as if you were in the middle of a conversation with him already. “The sky looks navy blue at this hour. We’re chasing the sunset. What can I do for you, Director?” He regarded you with the same slightly annoyed look he always had on his face.

“Where did I mess up?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do. I’m curious. When did you know?”

You smiled with a glint in your eye he’s never seen before. Your whole demeanor changed. “I only suspected your involvement in my family’s deaths at first. You were very convincing. It was when you put me up in the condo that I was really sure. You must have wanted me desperately to shower me with such riches.”

“Mmmm. I see. And you accepted freely.”

“I did. I wish I could be ashamed but I’m not. I mean, I got free tactical training with SHIELD. The Avengers trained me in hand to hand and on weapons. Then you had me training with some of the best sorcerers on the planet. Where you really fucked up though was not doing your own research. You see, I have an eidetic memory. A simple search of my school records would have told you that. I have memorized all of Natasha’s fight patterns and every spell Strange taught me. Which, by the way, he was teaching me defensive strategies not control tactics. I know all of the weaknesses in Tony’s suits. I’m also not afraid of tearing the Arch Reactor out of his chest. Did you know I was a conduit before my involvement with the Avengers?”

He sighed, “No. It wasn’t until your final test at the compound. Romanoff told me what you were.”

“Fascinating you didn’t hear that from Loki. He was your biggest mistake. You also didn’t factor in Strange. That’s why you rushed to the compound. You wanted to get to me before he did.”

“Well you’ve seemed to figure it all out.”

“Not everything. Why am I really going to Alaska? Who do you want there? Since I’m about to die I have a right to know why”

“Franklin Richards. He’s being held there. At the moment he’s unconscious. You need to take him out.”

“Susan and Reed’s son? You want me to absorb his powers. So this isn’t a Hydra base.”

“Oh no. It is. Senator Stern arranged for you to have access to Franklin. He and Senator Kelly have joined forces to create this encampment. Their motives are similar.”

“Ah. No more mutants.”

“That was Kelly’s idea at first. He’s seen the light and agreed to use mutants to our advantage. Franklin is too powerful. We need you to remove his power.”

“And I’m sure you know how powerful Franklin is even at his young age. I’m also sure you know now that I can’t absorb a power from a living person.”

“Minor issue. Easily fixed.”

“I’m not going to kill that boy. I will stand back and watch when Reed and Susan get their hands on you.” You laughed and sipped your water.

“You will do as we ask. I’m not in the habit of making requests.” He got up from his seat and went back up to talk to Tony. You blew out a deep breath. Every cell in your body was reaching out to Wanda and Loki. If they were close enough to you Wanda could hear your cries.

Someone else entirely heard you this time. Scott ran to Jean when he heard her talking incoherently. “Jean! You ok?”

“It’s Y/N. She’s in trouble.”

“We are ahead of them. We’ll be there before they land. Susan and Reed are meeting us there as well. Don’t worry. We’ll get to them.”

Jean reached her mind to yours, “We’re on our way, Y/N. We’re coming to help.” You heard her voice and calmed down. Fury wouldn’t know what hit him.

[marie-dufresne]

Fast forward; the fall of ShinRa. Geostigma is on the rise and Rufus is reduced to a wheelchair. Marie manages to find the lodges and sees her former employer for the first time in almost a year.

@ivory-paragon

There were memories and there were dreams. Lady Marie Devereaux could not tell them apart.  How could she, when all of her life had been dictated to her. An accident had wiped her memory entirely, or so she’d been told, and as she ‘recovered’, she was fed stories and pills, stories and pills, stories and pills.

Her husband, Colin, only wanted to see her well again.

Why then, she wondered, despite all his attentiveness and patience and benevolence, did she harbor a raw, deep seated fear of the man?

The things she recalled before she woke up were not real, she’d been told. They never happened, and yet they felt so real. So concrete. She could see faces, hear voices, feel textures.

But for all the things she was told happened?

There was nothing.

Why couldn’t she conjure up a shred of a memory? A familiar smell, or image?

It felt wrong to doubt him when he was waking her up with gentle kisses on her forehead, serving her breakfast on a tray in her suite. They didn’t share a bed in this manor. She needed to recover, he claimed. Then they could be intimate.

It suited Marie just fine. She felt no attraction to her husband as guilty as she felt to admit it, but he’d mentioned they’d been trying for a baby the past few years. They’d try again when she was well.

After three weeks she was left only with a slight limp from where her hip had been injured and after two months, there was no physical evidence left of the accident and she took to what she’d been doing for—how long had they been married? Fourteen years?

It seemed odd to her, to be married for fourteen years and not seek medical help to conceive. If that was right, she’d been all of eighteen and in prime shape for child bearing when they married.

Over the months locked up inside the grand estate, Marie did not begin to trust the past life she didn’t know. Not with the expensive clothes he dressed her in or the jewels or the gourmet foods served to her day in and day out. Instead, she began to doubt.

Her memories, the ones she thought could be real, had faded into nothing more than strange feelings of nostalgia and a recurring nightmare of a bustling street, a telephone, and her crying out for a friend. Or perhaps a lover. She didn’t know.

She didn’t even recall the name.

It happened by accident, her discovery that would either save her or ruin her. Too hasty in picking up her morning tablets, too slow to catch it before it tumbled down the drain. Ah, that was alright. Skipping one dose wouldn’t kill her. They were only meant to keep her balanced. It had been almost a year since she’d been taking them. Surely she’d be fine skipping one dose.

She didn’t tell Colin. It didn’t feel right to tell him, and she carried on, planning out the next season’s gardens, deciding to add an elaborate water feature to the grounds. He liked when she tinkered with the estate. It kept her busy.

Combing through a catalogue of plants, a question popped into her head that had her sitting upright.

What happened to Midgar?

Midgar? She laughed quietly, shaking her head and turning the page. She hated the idea of cities. She hadn’t ever been there, had no desire to be there, so why she was thinking about it now, she didn’t know. And what happened to it? Nothing as far as she knew. Why would anything happen to it? How silly.

The question wore on over the afternoon and it ate at her. It ate at her so much that while Colin was in a meeting in his study, she meandered into the library to tackle the archived newspapers, if only to quell the obnoxious mantra of a question.

That was until she discovered there wasn’t a single newspaper in the library. For a man who made a point of keeping up-to-date on the planet’s happenings…why didn’t he keep newspapers?

She briefly considered asking him casually. How was Midgar these days? Should they make a trip into the city? They were society elites after all. Shouldn’t they show their faces?

Sighing, Marie tapped her fingers onto a standing globe before giving it a little spin. No. She hadn’t been permitted to leave the property since the accident.

Another thing that didn’t sit well with her.

Feeling fuzzy, she opted for a nap. That evening, before bed, she dropped another tablet down the sink.

That night brought her dream, this time with flashes of colour. One colour. Red.

The morning brought her nausea, vomiting, and chills. The dream was gone. The second question Colin asked after her wellbeing was if she’d taken her medication.

He counted them. She’d been smart to dispose of them.

It was all she needed to know something was wrong in her household and through the pain and the sickness, she continued to forego the ‘necessary’ medication. Her dream was stronger, bits and pieces of what seemed like a fantasy were reappearing in her mind, and her fear of Colin Devereaux only grew stronger.

There wasn’t any communication to the outside, save the telephone but she was smarter than to try. They did have an extensive collection of encyclopedia, so again she took to the library. This time it was while he slept, at half past three in the morning. The night, dyslexia, and the tail end of her detox all working against her.

She had the orange pill bottle clenched in her right hand, flipping through the pages of the volume she’d selected, finding nothing. She read the name of the medication seventeen times, working letter by letter to no avail.

She sat back with a sigh, flicking off the tiny lamp she’d brought with her before turning it back on again, eyes roaming the bottle and finding an ‘active ingredient’. That was available in a different volume, and her stomach turned to stone as she read it, chills of a new kind settling underneath her skin.

“….working as a memory suppressant in several trial drugs thought to aid victims of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Never fully tested, it was pulled from all clinical trials due to ethical controversy and potential for misuse.”

With her hands pressed against her mouth, Marie stopped the sobs that shuddered up from her chest. Not here, not now. She had to make it back upstairs, back to her suite where if she was found, she could pretend to have had a nightmare. After that, she had to leave.

It didn’t matter wholly what the truth was anymore, what were memories and what were dreams and what were fantasies. What mattered now was survival.  For going on ten months she’d been living with a monster. A man drugging her and manipulating her to what end, she wondered.

The next morning she had a name, a name from her dreams and she felt a little better. It also brought with it a number. She’d always been good with numbers and when she spied the telephone from across the parlor after breakfast, she wondered if he would answer if she dialed.

She had a friend somewhere out there in the world, or had at some point. Maybe he could help her.

But calling him from here was not an option. What if he didn’t remember her? What if she’d done something terrible?

For three days, she resisted the urge to flinch when Colin walked in the room. For three days, she kept her hands busy with estate work and leisure so he couldn’t see them shaking, and for three nights, she combed the encyclopedias until dawn, looking for something she could use to give herself a head start.

Finally, on the fourth night, she added some liquid from a sleeping gel into her husband’s nightly cognac. He wouldn’t sleep suddenly, but he would sleep longer and far more deeply once he turned in.

With only a few pieces of jewelry in her handbag, she slipped out of the one blind spot the estate security offered, and ran into the night.

At sunrise, she found herself in civilization. A small town by the looks of it, directions written on a wooden post at the crossroads. Junon wasn’t far, but she wouldn’t be able to walk there. She’d worn her most sensible shoes, but she’d been running for nearly six hours.

She traded a ring for a a bath, hot breakfast, and a truck ride from the innkeeper who was more than eager to do whatever she needed of him.

In the city, her first stop was a jeweler. Even without memories, she knew that trading would only get her so far. She needed cash. Whether she was truly Lady Devereaux or not didn’t matter; she held herself well enough not to be questioned and left the establishment with a purse full of gil, less the bribe she’d paid to have any evidence of her being there destroyed.

Next, a cellphone. One that couldn’t be traced, that had no bill. What did they call them?

“A….burner phone, ma’am?”

The clerk shifted uncomfortably at the woman before him. She didn’t seem all there.

“Yes,” she replied, straightening a bit. “I need a burner phone.”

“No one who buys one of these it up to anything good, you know,” he joked, “you’re not dealing, are you?”

Handing over the gil, Marie looked up with an icy glare, unappreciative of the humor.

“I’ve just left my abusive husband,” she said, lifting her chin, “and I must find Reno.”

The young boy didn’t hand over the box, instead offering to set it up for her. He didn’t know who this ‘Reno’ was, but if what she said was true, maybe he should help.

“I’ll also need to know the fastest route to Midgar,” she informed him, “I think I belong there.”

The second clerk froze from stocking shelves to look over at the counter, sending the boy a questioning glance. Where was this woman from?

“You’ll uh…you can take a boat,” he settled on, “uh…buy a ticket to ‘Edge’ though.”

Marie accepted the phone he handed her, slipping it into her purse. “Edge?”

Realizing this woman was either off her rocker or had been isolated for too long, the young cashier didn’t want to upset her, so he shrugged with a small smile. “New Port Codes, I think,” he told her instead, “maybe it’ll end up being safer for you too.”

Satisfied with this, Marie headed to the harbor and bought the next ticket on the fastest ship. Alone in her cabin, she lowered herself to the bed. If Colin was after her, there would at least be enough distance between them that when she got to Midgar, she could vanish. Or if not vanish, possibly enlist the help of someone.

With the phone in her hand, her heart raced. She had a number, and she had a name. Aside from that, she had nothing. She didn’t recall this ‘Reno’ or why they were of any importance to her. When had they met? Were they involved with her accident?

She wouldn’t know unless she tried, so with trembling fingers, she dialed.  After four rings, there was a voice on the other end.

“Yo listen you got the wrong number.”

Marie’s brow wrinkled. What an odd way to answer the phone.

“…Reno?”

A little sigh, followed by a groan. “Ayyy okay so you ain’t got the wrong number but if this was about the other night, I was drunk and—“

“Reno it’s Marie.”

Silence.

She prayed it wasn’t confused silence. She prayed he knew who she was. She prayed that he was someone who would help her.

There was shuffling on the other line, followed by a slamming door. “Where the fuck have you been.”

The demand came out as a hiss, but the tone of concern did not go unnoticed by her.

“I don’t know; I—“

“All I get is this freaky voicemail, you go missing, and a week later the fucking world starts to end! What the—“

Her eyes widened as muffled groans and growls of frustration came through.

“The President is in a bad way, Marie. He…we could really use you, and you—you were just gone. No one just vanishes like that unless we make it happen. You know that.”

She didn’t know that, and she didn’t understand the cause for concern but she did know about the voicemail. She’d relived it almost every night since she’d stopped her suppressants. Wherever she’d been—Midgar, she assumed—she’d been running from someone. She’d called him for help.

He hadn’t answered.

By the time his voicemail beeped, she’d been snatched and all she could do was scream.

In this moment, she knew it was Colin Devereaux himself that had taken her.

Taking a breath, she leaned forward. “…why…would Winston ShinRa have any use for me?”

She was terrified of the answer. The President’s reputation was a filthy one riddled with cheap affairs and illegitimate offspring. If she’d had any part in that…

“Winst—what the—No! Rufus, blondie! How can you not even—what happened to you?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her hand coming up to cradle her forehead, “I…I’ve been forced to take memory suppressants. I only just stopped taking them and I can’t…I’m sorry but I just can’t remember anything about myself.”

More silence, and she thought for a moment how almost comical it was. Reno was never silent. It pleased her that she knew this.

“Well that’s great,” he sighed, “scrambled eggs for brains. Well seriously, you should get here. Brick wall memory or not, you might be able to do somethin’ to lift his spirits.”

Her?

“…why me?”

This silence was different, as if it were a subject he wasn’t used to, or perhaps was uncomfortable broaching.

“…because you’re in love with him.”

Marie stared ahead at the wall of her cabin, any words she might have had to object swallowed by the fact itself. Who was she?

Luckily for her, Reno wasn’t in the mood for dwelling on sentiment, if he ever was, and charged ahead, a familiar teasing tone directed at her.

“Yeah, you don’t remember? You were always up his ass like some kind of pet or something.”

He cursed. It was low and under his breath, like he couldn’t believe the situation they were in, like he didn’t need more on his plate, but it was followed by a low groan.

“Tell me when you’re scheduled to dock. Rude will pick you up.”

When she’d given him the information she needed, the call ended and she took a breath, the phone trembling in her hands. She realized she didn’t know—or remember—what sort of person Rufus ShinRa was. Was she jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire? Reno might have known she loved him (maybe everyone knew), but he hadn’t said anything about the president’s feelings for her. What if, especially in the bad way he was in, she was met with resentment or rage?

She had, after all, disappeared.

At the port, this ‘Edge’, Marie recognized nothing. Where had her city gone? Panic rose up in her chest and as her eyes searched for anything familiar, she felt her body freezing her where she stood, grumpy passengers pushing by her as she stood in the way, so out of place in her glamorous, tailored clothing and sophisticated hairstyle.

A hand on her shoulder took her attention away from the sight before her and she looked up, met by an unsmiling face and sunglasses. Unsmiling, but not unkind. She knew this man—or had, at some point.

“Rude?”

His hand slipped from her and he beckoned her forward with the smallest of nods. Dutifully she followed, sliding into the car, clutching her handbag. After a few miles of silence, she looked over and smiled.

“I’m sorry I don’t have much to say…I’ve…had a confusing year and I don’t remember you enough.”

“…”

His lack of response didn’t seen to be from displeasure or annoyance, so she smiled again and tried to relax enough to sit back.

“…it’s fine.”

She believed him.

Marie didn’t keep track of the time they spent driving and she didn’t try to initiate any more conversation. Maybe she could have asked questions to prepare her for what he was taking her to, but she found herself tired of being told about what her life had or hadn’t been. She’d have to see for herself.

He lead her into the lodge and though first her eyes settled on Reno lounging on a sofa, the moment she caught sight of Rufus, confined to a wheelchair, the tightness that had been building in her chest burst.

She knew his face. She knew it.

The room tilted, memories assaulting her. Small, brief flashes of moments. A swirling pool of mako, a slaughtered lamb, a pink fluffy pen, the smell of a cappuccino, a knife at her face.

His hands on her.

She shook, standing there, her life seeping in through the cracks and she felt something stronger than anything she’d felt before.

Despair.

“I…”

There was so much she could have said, that she wanted to say, working her way through the confusion of sorting out everything before her, but there was only one place to start and in only a few steps, she was before him, falling to her knees, tears she understood and justified brimming in her eyes, but as they fell, no makeup smudged, not anymore.

“I’ve failed you, sir.”

[modestlyabsurd]

Survival Pt. 2 (Loki x Reader)

"What's the situation, doc?"

"Well," Loki scratches his head, "there's just the smallest bit of swelling. Luckily, nothing's broken or sprained. I'd say within a couple of days the swelling should reduce, as well as the pain. In the meantime," he rises with sqeaks of the mattress springs, "try to avoid stomping the brains out of little bunnies' skulls."

"Ha-ha-ha."

"No, truly." He cringes at the blood-spattered boot he'd removed from your foot, "Remind me to never ever make you angry."

"Even if I did, you'd still do it," you smile, and Loki winks as he walks into the kitchen.

You use your forearms to adjust your position on the mattress. You and Loki were ecstatic to find a mattress in one of the two bedrooms. For so long, sleeping was something to figure out as you went. Backpacks make decent pillows. Tarps do wonders to keep you dry, but offer no warmth. Without a fire, the only source of heat at night is the other person. That's how you discovered that you're both big spoons.

Neither of you had any training on how to sleep without a bed, which caused more sleepless nights than necessary. Finding the cabin alone was a blessing, let alone it being luxuriously furnished.

With every movement, the springs squeak loudly from age. The smell had gotten milder, but that's just because you got used to it. In a way, it was comforting. Under the mildew, the lingering scent of skin and musk gave the illusion that this was still someone's home, and you were sleeping in their guest bed.

Nevermind the dried blood caked into it.

The two of you dragged it into the main living room area of the cabin when you first arrived - where it is now. Where you're laying with your leg propped up on your duffle bag.

"So you really don't think it's that bad?"

"No, I don't. It'll heal quickly." Loki rummaged through his backpack and pulls out a medicine bottle. "It would heal much quicker if you'd let me assist you."

"No no you, you know how I feel about that. I can't. If I, if I let you use magic to heal every single one of my injuries, I'll become dependent on it. I can't afford - we can't afford that."

"I still don't understand why not. I don't intend on leaving you anytime soon."

"Hey, things can change."

"Change is adaptable."

"Not if you're dead."

He ignores your comment with a shake of his head and hands you an orange pill. Swallowing pills without any liquid has never been a strong point of yours, but you don't have much choice. You force it down your throat; the sooner it hits, the sooner the throbbing pain will dull out.

Your ankle was twisted pretty badly. No pain even registered until you were out of the unmerciful cold. The cushy support of powdery snow had masked it. As soon as you put weight on your ankle in the cabin's threshold, hot, searing pain shot up your leg and if not for Loki already supporting you, you would've fallen flat on the hardwood floor. Mentally, you kicked yourself with your good foot. The last thing you two need is an injury. A disabling one at that.

The thought of utilizing Loki's supernatural abilities was tempting now as you squirm in discomfort, waiting for the medicine to activate. An agreement was made that he would strictly use magic in a life-or-death scenario only. But fuck, that ankle's on fire.

Delirious from a multitude of ailments, you thought you'd found a clever loophole.

"Hey, uh," you begin, your voice unsteady, "how 'bout ah, how 'bout you come over here and put those ice cubes at the end of your arms to good use."

"Hm? The pain talking, is it?"

You scoff. "Please?"

"Most certainly the pain talking," he remarks, but removes his brown gloves eagerly. "And what of the no-magic policy?"

"Fuck it."

Loki laughs; one of his quiet, breathy, knee-weakening chuckles.

"Besides, your Jötun-ness is different."

"Is it?" He comes around the kitchen peninsula where he was taking stock of your supplies, and slowly lowers to the edge of the mattress so as to not disturb your injury. "Ah, I see. You only want to use my abilities the way you see fit." A smirk covers his face.

Loki wraps one hand on top, one hand underneath your bruising ankle, encasing the inflamed flesh in an icy cocoon. The cold was harsh before fading into beautiful numbness. You exhale a long breath, your head falling backward in relief.

Loki could feel the throbbing joint under his palms. The heat radiating. You were deliciously warm naturally, but this heat was angry and anything but natural.

Perhaps this was worse than he prescribed.

The genetic coolness of his body temperature had clearly done a number for your pain, but it was only temporary. He examines your facial expression (what he can see of it, since your head is thrown back). Your eyes are closed, only your brow is no longer twisted up in discomfort.

A thought pops into Loki's head. You're not paying any attention, lost in the bliss of relief. Now's his chance.

Maybe a bit of magic wouldn't hurt...

Without any further hesitation he taps into the part of his mind that controls his Seidr. It's engrained in his bones; he could never forget how to use it. Tendrils of green mist flow from his palms and fingertips. They twine around your injury like vines, dissolving deeper into the wound; calming the inflamation, mending the bruises, surrounding it in magic. Almost immediately the site's temperature began going down as well as the swelling. Yes! The spell was successful!

You had somewhat paralyzed your ankle by propping it up and lying down, for the threat of it hurting horribly was just beneath the surface should it be moved the wrong way. That is how you'd been keeping it for nearly an hour now, judging by the trees' shadows through the only window without a board sealing it. Until now. You felt mobility return to your ankle as Loki cradled it.

In disbelief, you asked, "What medicine did you give me?"

He stutters a bit. "Advil. Why do you ask?"

"Sure did kick in fast."

"Oh? Hm. Maybe I gave you the stronger Advil. Hydro, hydro something..."

"Hydrocodone."

"Yes, that's the one."

"Y'know, for the God of Lies being one of your nicknames, I expected you to be better at lying." You open one eye and look down at him, laughing at his puppy dog, deer-in-headlights look. You always stun him when he least expects it.

Now you're pain-free, so there's no reason to have your leg propped up anymore. You sit up as the mattress squeaks to pull your boot back on after Loki withdraws his hands. He picks at his palm, avoiding eye contact.

"I'm not mad at you. I mean, you did perform extraterrestrial medical treatment on me without my consent, but it's alright," you put a hand on his shoulder. The bones poked up, even through his thick clothes. Gosh, it was getting worse. We need food. You gave him a squeeze; one to remind you to revisit that, and two to reassure him. "I was thinking about the no-magic policy and, maybe you're right. It makes better sense to use it for smaller, more distracting injuries moreso than waiting 'til one of us is about to kick it. It'll save time, save medicine, prevent infections. Probably save our lives quicker than my theory could."

"So, wait. Hold on. You're agreeing with me?"

"Oh for fuck's sake. Don't act so shocked."

Loki winks at you.

You break the silence that followed, the two of you exchanging real, genuine smiles. "I know you have my best interest at heart. I really appreciate that."

~

Before sunset you were ready to crash out and sleep for twenty years. That Advil hit you like a valium. Medicine on an empty stomach...it absorbs straight into the system. You tried to keep your blood pumping by shadow boxing against your candlelit shadow, while Loki read The Catcher in the Rye by the same candlelight. Goodness, how both of you beamed at finding a ransacked bookshelf at the front door. What a welcome that was.

As you exerted more and more of what little energy you started with, quickly you began tiring out. Holding your eyes open became a challenge within itself. You decide to sit down next to Loki on your mattress and catch your breath.

"Your form is terrible."

"Huh?" you say, almost drunk.

"Your form. Your stance and momentum. You'll certainly stumble over your own feet in real combat."

"Now you listen here, I am fucked up on Advil thanks to your sorry ass. I'll have you know that my form when I'm sober is excellent."

"Really?" He glances up from his book, the candlelight accentuating why they call him a god. "I think we should test that."

"But I'm not sober."

"That can be fixed."

At this point you're talking in your sleep. Mumbling, half awake. Ready to be dead to the dead world. The soft mattress presses your cheek, the only indication that you've laid down from your sitting position. The sound of the cabin's front door opening, the howling gust of wind, Loki's heavy footfalls, none of these registers in your comatose state. Nothing.

Until snow.

...snow?

Snow?!

"What the fuck?! Mother f-f-fuck you!! I'm gonna kill you b-bastard! Fucker!"

Most of the snow ended up thrown back at him about the face and neck. He, he's laughing!

"The fuck are you laughing at?! Where's my knife?!" The flailing of snow had also put the candle out, leaving the room in total darkness. He was eternally glad you didn't have your knife on you.

He could feel the air around you shuffling wildly until you finally struck him on the shoulder. It didn't hurt him, oh how he loves to remind you of that; it felt as though a fly landed on his arm, but he still didn't need to risk you hurting yourself.

"Easy, darling."

"Don't you darling me! That wasn't funny! Now I'm fucking freezing!"

"I can warm you right up if you wish."

"Yeah, no-fucking-thanks."

Good thing you were mad. That card may have worked on a different day.

"This what you were going for? Me pissed the fuck off, cold, tired, traumatized, and ready to kill you? Is that what you wanted?"

"Precisely."

"What the fuck?!"

"Show me what you're going to do about it."

No further questioning required. You gladly punch him - but he blocks. You try a second time, he blocks again. A third, fourth time, he blocks those too. You try a kick to the nuts and that was a mistake. Next thing you know, your back hit the floor and stars dotted your vision. He caught your leg and twisted you up in some sort of reversal restraint; he had both your hands pinned above your head and his knee keeping your torso glued to the floor.

Now you were furious.

"Do you see what I mean? About your form?"

"Rot in hell."

Gods, he could just kiss you.

He doesn't. Rather, he uses a bit of magic to relight the candle nearby on the floor. He only gets a glimpse before you begin squirming underneath him. "Let me up."

"Are you hurt?" he asks as he pulls you steadily to your feet, hand in hand.

"I'm fine."

"Good. Now, I am going to teach you proper combat and self defense. I will teach you arts. I will teach you techniques. I will be patient, I will be thorough, and I will not stop until you are confident in your own capabilities. However, you're a fast learner."

"Wait. What about you? What about food, Loki?"

A long, bitter inhale through his nose. This was not something he wanted to dwell on.

"You needn't worry about me, my dear. We'll find food soon. For now, I want you to pay close attention."

[jiminelli]

You Don’t Know Me

Request: I can't really think about an actual story plot but maybe yoongi getting you pregnant and he chickens out... Aw This is such a bad description but since you're an amazing writer ypu can pull it off better ☺💖 thank you!

Pairing: Yoongi + Reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1.841

Warnings: swearing

A/N: you’re so sweet omg and of course it’s a good description! I hope I made it similar to the way you wanted it to be

Part 2 | Part 3

Kneeling on the cold bathroom floor, your bare legs had goosebumps spread all over your skin, acknowledging the icy tiles. Hair hold back by one of your hands while the other one stabilized your weak body, your forehead collapsed against the toilet stool. Hasty breaths left your slightly open mouth while cold sweat pearled down your face and back. 

What is happening to me?

You took a deep breath before sitting up straight enough to not feel like an old grandmother having back problems. Grabbing some pieces of toilet paper, you wiped over your mouth before throwing it into the toilet and flushing it down to God knows where. 

Closing the toilet seat, you slowly stood up, turning your body towards the sink, opening the faucet. For a few seconds you let the water run so it could turn completely cold before holding both of your hands underneath it, splashing the icy water into your face. Reflexively, your lungs screamed for air as the cold water hit your face but you just ignored it.

It’s just cold water, calm down.

Grabbing your toothbrush, you brushed your teeth quickly, examining yourself in the mirror in front of you above the sink. Your eyes were encircled by dark bags, skin as pale as if all your blood had been drawn out of your veins, only leaving your dead skin. Your hair had lost its healthy shine and just hung there loosely, like overcooked spaghetti noodles.  

Sighing deeply, you finished cleaning up and walked back into your bedroom, grabbing for your phone. You had to check the calendar before making any overly fast assumptions about your symptoms.

Opening the calendar app, you scrolled back to the last month.

Date of last menstruation: February 16th

Current date: April 17th

Two months since your last period. Two months since mother nature forgot to swing by and make your life miserable for a while. Oh how you wished, Satan had nested in your uterus in those last two months instead of sitting there in that exact moment, wondering how the hell you got into this situation.

“Two fucking months....”, you mumbled to yourself. “I need to get a test.”

With those words being said, you grabbed your keys and coat, storming out of your tiny apartment, down the street to the pharmacy. Strangers pushed their bodies into yours while trying to pass by but you didn’t notice. All you could think of was if you were ready to get some answers. You needed to know why you were feeling so miserable since weeks but at the same time you were scared. Scared that your assumptions would be true and you’d have to tell Yoongi. Scared that he’d flip and leave you alone. So many things could happen and you weren’t ready to figure out what else could ruin your life. But you had to. 

Pushing the door open, the smell of disinfectant hit your nose, making you scrunch it in disgust. You never liked the smell of disinfectant. It reminded you of hospitals and that again reminded you of death. Not the nicest connection one could think of. That’s why you tried to stay away from that smell. 

Walking up to the pharmacist who looked like she was about to fall asleep any second, you silently prayed that she wouldn’t ask any further questions like aren’t you a little too young to ask for a pregnancy test? where’s the father? do you know who the father is? you should have been more careful, young lady. You really didn’t need that crap right now.

“Excuse me”, you politely asked the woman. “C-can I have one of those pregnancy tests?”, you signaled at the white sticks in simple boxes behind the lady as she turned around to see where you were pointing at. They were the cheapest ones you could see and the only ones you could afford as a college student.

The pharmacist smiled at you and leaned a little closer to you. “Of course, but I wouldn’t recommend those - they’re usually wrong or don’t work at all.”

Then why are you selling them at all? “Oh.. well I guess it’ll have to do, those are the only ones I can afford right now”, you faked a laugh as she handed you the test and you gave her the money. Her expression was pitiful but not judging. More like a mother feeling sad for a child.

“Is there a bathroom around here? I don’t think I can wait until I’m back home”, you mumbled and the lady showed you the way to go.

After finishing your business, you waited in the cabin for the 10 minutes you were supposed to wait, anxiously biting down on your lip.

What if it’s positive? What am I supposed to do? I can’t take care of a baby yet. I can barely take care of myself!

As the 10 minutes went by, you decided that you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t look down at the result by yourself. You needed someone to do it for you. So you walked out of the bathroom back to the pharmacist, who was looking at you questioningly.

“Would you mind- would you mind, telling me what is says?”, you asked hesitantly. “I can’t bring it over myself to do it.”

She smiled at you and nodded. “Sure, turn it around sweetheart, so I can see the bars.”

You turned the stick to her and bit down on your lip hard. Your heart rate increased and nervous sweat started to spread out all over your body. 

The lady took a look and then she seemed to struggle with a fitting facial expression. “I don’t know if you’re going to be happy about this news or not, but it’s positive”, she decided to smile at you warmly as your stomach dropped.

“Positive?”, you whispered, looking down on it yourself. There it was. A pink cross. Or plus. Or whatever you want to call it. 

“I- it can’t-”, you stuttered as your eyes filled with tears. You didn’t even care to wipe them away at that point.

“Oh no dear, don’t cry”, the pharmacist said. She turned around and grabbed another package, a fancier looking one and discreetly slid it over the table. “Shh don’t tell anyone but here - take this one. These are right about 89% of the time  unlike the one you just took. Take it with you and do the test when you’ve calmed down, okay?”

You looked up at her and shook your head under tears. “B-but I can’t afford that one.”

The lady smiled at you again and pushed it closer to you. “It’s fine. It’s on the house”, she winked and giggled, making you smile at her thankfully.

“Now go, rest and take the test”, you nodded at her words, mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ under tears before rushing back to your apartment. 

Maybe you still had a chance.

“What do you mean ‘you’re pregnant’? We always used protection (Y/N)!”, Yoongi screamed in disbelief, brushing his hands through his hair in frustration. “You can’t be pregnant. It’s impossible.”

You rolled your eyes at him and laughed bitterly. “As long as your not sterile and I’m not infertile, I can always get pregnant Yoongi. Condoms can rip and the pill doesn’t work 100%.”

“Fuck!”, he yelled, throwing his phone against the sofa, making you flinch. You had expected him to react pissed or at least not really excited but you never thought, he’d flip like he did.

“Yoongi...”, you approached him, trying to calm him down, needing him to be calm in order for you to be calm yourself and not have a complete breakdown.

“Don’t touch me (Y/N)”, he growled.

“But-”, you tried but he interrupted you.

“No ‘buts’! This ruins everything, you realize that right? Everything I worked for so hard these last couple of years. Everything I ever wanted, all ruined because of this fucking mistake”, his voice was as cold as ice as his eyes stared at you, burning not only your body to pieces but your soul as well.

“Yoongi, yes it’s very inconvenient, you can call it a mistake even. But we’re in this together, we can’t change it. But we can go through this together”, you whispered through tears, trying to approach him again. You needed his support more than ever but all he seemed to do was to push you further away.

“It’s not only this pregnancy that is a mistake. This whole relationship was a mistake. I should have never started dating you, then it would have never gotten this far. I would have stayed focused on my work and only my work, not even having the slightest possibility for this to happen. Now what? The fans don’t even know about you! But all of sudden I have a girlfriend and a baby? They’d force me to marry you because we live in fucking Korea and you don’t just get kids without being married yet. My whole life would be ruined!”, by now he was screaming, fuming, running around the house uncontrollably, grabbing things here and there and hastily throwing them into a bag he had grabbed.

His words hit you worse than any weapon could as the meaning behind it sunk in. He thought you were the mistake. You were ruining everything. Everything that was important to him. He hated you in that moment, you felt it. 

You sunk to the floor, sobs escaping your lips as tears streamed down your face and your lungs were searching for air. Hysterical sobs left your mouth as your hands covered your face and your body curled up into a tiny frame.

“Yoongi please!”, you screamed out, lifting your head for a second, only hearing him going through your wardrobe in your bedroom. “I can’t do this without you! I’m a broke college student, I’m alone here, I don’t have anybody else but you!”

His figure appeared back in the door frame to the living room, a packed bag slung over his shoulder. “You should have thought about that before starting a relationship with me.”

Hastily you stood up as his body walked past you, towards your front door. Your fingers enclosed his arm, pulling on it, so he would stop. When he did and turned around, you saw the hurt and guilt in his eyes for a second before his gaze turned back to ice. You knew he cared. He cared but he was also impulsive and his impulse told him that his career was more important. 

“Yoongi, you don’t want that. You love me. You can’t just leave me like this, you’re more than this awful egoistic asshole”, you brokingly sobbed, still holding onto his arm, eyes begging him to stay.

He shook his head, ripping his arm free from your grip. “I guess you don’t know me that well after all then.”

With that, he pushed you off him, slamming the door shut without giving you one last glance, as you glanced after his figure in disbelief, a deadly pain spreading across your chest and stomach, making you gasp for air as more tears covered your face, leaving physical marks of the pain your were feeling.

©jiminelli

[lpdwillwrite4coffee]

BLOODY SUNRISE CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The next two days were spent fortifying their temporary home in case it needed to become more permanent. Safety measures were taken for each entrance. Downstairs windows were boarded up to prevent Geeks from smashing inside. Caitlin devised a latch and rope mechanism for both the front and back doors, so they could be barricaded quickly with just the yank of a cord. And the bodies of the Geeks they’d killed were left to add their repulsive stench to their wards.

They turned the farmhouse into a fortress.

The perfect place to get their bearings. To debate their future. To plan.

Caitlin first noticed something was wrong when Booker reached for a can on a high shelf and halted stiffly.

It was only for a second or two, and he shook it off, but she couldn’t deny the pit that formed in her stomach.

That night, when he’d playfully hauled her close, she’d instinctively grabbed his shoulders and Booker grunted in pain, flinching away from her.

“Jack?”

Then she remembered. They’d never cleaned his wound. They’d been stuck in that filthy basement for a whole day, praying the Geeks wouldn’t notice them, and had completely forgotten his cut.

“Let me see it,” she ordered, already pulling his shirt up.

“Cae, don’t—”

“Would you stop fighting me, and just take your shirt off?”

He snorted. “Wish you were sayin’ that under different circumstances.”

“Off. Now.”

Booker relented, tugging on the fabric. But as he went to lift his arms, he hissed in pain, and Caitlin helped him the rest of the way.

The gash on his shoulder was a deep, angry red, the skin around it inflamed and swollen. Just looking at it made her queasy.

“Jack, this looks infected,” she said, barely touching the skin around it and feeling how hot it was.

“Nah, it’ll be alright.”

She glared at him. “What, are you gonna wish real hard and hope it goes away?”

“I’ve been washin’ it, keepin’ it dry…”

“I don’t think any of that matters if you were cut by a rusty nail.” She frowned as she inspected it again. “I’m getting Nicole so she can look.”

Booker grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Darlin’ don’t, she’s prob’ly asleep.”

“And you’re gonna end up with gangrene or something.” She was out the bedroom door before he could convince her otherwise.

Luckily Nicole wasn’t asleep at all, and in another moment Booker had two women concerned over him.

“That’s definitely infected,” Nicole said.

Caitlin tossed a look at Booker. “See?”

He huffed. “Fine, I’ll wipe it down with somethin’ and slap some Neosporin on there.”

Nicole frowned. “I don’t know, Booker… When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?”

Leaning his forearms into his thighs, Booker shrugged. “Dunno… When I was in the service maybe?”

“How long ago was that?”

“A while.”

Nicole chewed her bottom lip as she looked over his wound again.

“Scott would know more than me…” She murmured. “But I think the best thing to do now is try to clean it with something like rubbing alcohol and put a compress on there to draw out the infection.”

Booker glanced at Caitlin. “The kit have rubbin’ alcohol?”

“I think so.” She was already on her way to getting it from downstairs. When she returned, she opened it up on the bed. “There’s alcohol wipes… Will that work?”

“It’s better than nothing,” Nicole told her. “Is there gauze and tape?”

“Yeah,” she said, holding it all up.

Nicole took it from her, ripping open a wipe. Caitlin found the small bottle of rubbing alcohol, but it was nearly gone. They used it anyway.

Booker flinched when Caitlin poured it over his cut, but he didn’t say anything. After a minute of tending to him, they covered his gash with gauze and tapped it up, careful not to push too hard on the irritated skin.

“Take a couple Tylenol before you go to bed and sleep on your other side,” Nicole told him, helping to repack their First Aid kit. “We’ll have to keep an eye on it for the next few days and change the bandages as often as possible to keep it clean.”

“Thanks, Doc,” he said with a grin, standing up.

Patting his arm, Nicole wished them both good night and shut the door behind her.

As soon as the lock clicked, Booker was reaching for Caitlin, but she swatted his hands.

“You need rest.”

“Cae—”

“Nope. I’m getting you Tylenol and water and you’re going to bed, mister.”

He rolled his eyes but there was a fondness in his smile that warmed her chest. Booker was letting her take care of him for a change. He’d let her in.

Heading for the hall bathroom, she searched the medicine cabinet and found the right bottle of extra strength pills. She paused, filling a water cup, staring at the pale green pattern around the rim.

If the world wasn’t broken, their life would look an awful lot like this.

The house from her dream, with the butter yellow curtains and big kitchen table. The ring on her finger. Dinners together in front of the TV. Getting a wine buzz at eight-thirty at night on a Tuesday. Lazy weekends spent tangled together in bed.

Work. Neighborhood cookouts. Anniversaries. Maybe even kids.

It would have been a good life.

But if the world wasn’t broken, they may have never found each other.

A trade off she didn’t have the heart to wish for.

Going back to their borrowed bedroom, she handed Booker his medicine and the water glass, and watched him swallow.

“Don’t I get a lollipop for bein’ a good patient?” He winked at her.

She grinned and motioned for him to get into bed. “When you’re healed up I’ll give you a surprise.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.”

She fell asleep with Booker’s arms wrapped around her, and dreamt of the house, the ring, the life they’d just have to do without.

                                                               ***

Caitlin awoke to a room cast in grey light and a strange shuddering noise in her ear.

Blinking, she rolled her head on the pillow, trying to get her bearings.

The mattress was trembling behind her and she turned to look. “Booker?”

He had the comforter pulled all the way up to his temple, arms crossed in front of him as he shivered.

“Jack?” She turned over, facing him. “Hey, Jack…”

“Cold in here, ain’t it,” he muttered, teeth clacking together.

Panic spiked through her. The room was balmy no thanks to the summer heat and she was sweating through her tee shirt. She hadn’t felt a chill in weeks.

Pressing the back of her hand to his cheek, she gasped. “Jack, you’re burning up.”

He grunted, damp forehead wrinkling in a frown. “’M’alright.”

“No, no you’re not.” Flinging the blankets back, she clamored out of bed, running to get more Tylenol and water.

The noise of doors slamming open brought Nicole out of her room, rubbing her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Caitlin didn’t slow as she rushed back to the bedroom. “Booker’s sick.”

That woke Nicole up immediately. “Fever?”

“And chills,” Caitlin told her, kneeling on the bed. “Jack? Jack, sit up, you gotta take this.”

Barely aware, he pushed onto his forearm, but was so weak he couldn’t keep himself up. Cupping the back of his head, Caitlin angled him to open his mouth for the tablets and water.

“Do you have a thermometer?” Nicole asked, rummaging through the kit.

“No, and there isn’t one in the bathroom.”

Nicole mimicked Caitlin’s test, pressing her hand to Booker’s face.

“Jesus, he’s on fire.”

Caitlin’s throat threatened to close. “It’s the infection, right? It got worse, we didn’t catch it in time.”

Nicole grimaced. “I think so.” Looking to her friend, she said, “We gotta get his fever down.”

Ripping the blankets off him, Caitlin was already fighting to lift Booker off the bed. “Help me get him to the shower.” Looping her arm under his, she said, “Jack? Jack, I need you to stand up, okay?”

He was ghostly pale and shivering so badly he couldn’t walk a straight line. It took an incredible amount of effort, but they finally got him into the tub, propping him against the wall.

Caitlin winced as she turned the cold-water knob. “Sorry, Booker.”

He let out a surprised groan as the spray hit him and ducked his head to keep his face out of it.

“This isn’t going to be enough,” Nicole told her. “We need ice.”

“You saw the fridge downstairs, it’s been busted for weeks. We don’t have ice.”

Nicole’s concerned stare darted to Booker. “How much Tylenol do we have left?”

“Half a bottle,” she said, splashing cool water on the back of his neck and the insides of his wrists.

Caitlin’s rib cage suddenly felt too tight under her skin, organs being squeezed. She couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen…

“’M okay, songbird,” Booker mumbled, streams of water running down his brow ridge. “I’ll be alright.”

She wanted to cry. He was on the verge of blood poisoning, fever nearly frying his brain, and he was still trying to comfort her.

“Nicole, double check the bathrooms, the kitchen, anywhere you can think. Pain meds, antibiotics, look for it all, okay?”

Nicole nodded and hurried out, leaving Caitlin to tend to Booker.

“Y’getting’ bossy?” Booker asked, tilting his head to try to look at her.

She smiled, despite the fear bubbling up her esophagus. “You know you like it.”

Combing her fingers through his wet hair, she comforted him as the icy water rained down. He was drenched and shivering but never complained.

She cupped his jaw, running her thumb over his cheek.

You’re gonna be okay.

I’m here.

I love you.

Nicole returned minutes later carrying a grungy bottle of generic aspirin and a couple washcloths. “This was all I could find.”

Caitlin nodded her thanks, but dread had a firm grasp on her insides.

Booker was only going to get worse. He needed antibiotics to fight the infection, more Tylenol to bring his fever down.

They were already running out of time.

“Songbird,” he mumbled, reaching for her hand weakly. “Don’t…”

Don’t worry.

Don’t leave.

Don’t put yourself at risk for me.

Gripping his fingers, she clenched her jaw.

It was the only time she’d ever refuse to listen to him.

                                                               ***

Zipping her pack, Caitlin ran through the list in her head.

Enough water for a day, the revolver was loaded, and she had half a box of ammo, she was taking the hatchet from the shed, the map…

“Caitlin, I should go,” Nicole said from behind her. “You should be here with Booker.”

She shook her head. “You’re still recovering, I’m not going to make you go on a run by yourself.”

“Then let me come with you.”

“Booker’s in no condition to take care of himself, especially if another herd of Geeks comes through.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Nicole said, pitch rising with worry. “And we’re miles from any store—”

“I can make it.” She finished checking her pack and slung it over her shoulder.

“At least take the Jeep.”

Caitlin shook her head. “You need it. In case something happens, you take Booker and you get the hell out.”

“What about you?”

Her gaze was level on her friend as she said, “I’ll find you.”

Nicole blinked back angry tears. “How? How will you know where to go, how will we find you?”

“I found you once before, I’ll find you again.”

Nicole gripped the back of the kitchen chair so tight her knuckles went white. “Caitlin—” She cut herself off, taking a deep breath. “This is reckless. You shouldn’t go out there alone, without anyone to watch your back. And what if something happens to you? How will we know? What do I tell Booker if you don’t come home?”

Her resolve was already steel in her bones.

“Booker’s infection is only going to get worse,” she said. “I will not just sit here and watch my lover die knowing full well there’s something I can do to help him. I survived almost a month on my own, I can handle a day trip into town.”

Anger and worry etched deep lines in Nicole’s face. “Caitlin—”

“I know. I’m scared too.” After a moment, she jerked her chin at the paper clutched in Nicole’s other hand. “Did you write down what I need to get?”

Nodding, she handed it to her. “I wrote out the three antibiotics I remember, and the generic name in case that’s all they have.”

“Thank you.” Tucking the paper into her jeans pocket, Caitlin adjusted her pack. “If I’m not back by tomorrow—”

“Please don’t,” Nicole interrupted, tremor in her voice. “It feels like you’re jinxing it or something.”

Caitlin held her stare and said, “The Jeep is packed with emergency supplies. It’s enough to last you a week. Booker will fight you tooth and nail, but you have to promise me you’ll get him out too.”

Nicole nodded once.

“Good.” Caitlin headed for the door. Hand on the knob, she glanced over her shoulder. “Stay safe.”

She left before she could hear Nicole’s teary response.

                                                               ***

She prayed to a god she wasn’t sure she believed in.

Booker believed. Maybe that was enough. Maybe God would listen on his behalf.

It was well past noon before the first viable township came into view. She could see the clusters of Geeks trudging through the streets, but nothing like the herd from days before.

She could outrun them. Fight them if she had to.

The broken Walgreens sign was her only beacon, a filthy lighthouse she couldn’t help but place all her hope in.

She managed to avoid a few Geeks by sheer speed alone. She stuck to alleys, careful not to get herself trapped in with any undead.

Clearly the place had been looted weeks before, the back door swinging open with ease. She wanted to rush in, but she knew the odds of a zombie being inside and she couldn’t risk being hasty.

Holding her breath, she listened.

Something was knocking around in an aisle, maybe a few meters away.

Adjusting her grip on the hatchet, Caitlin slipped inside, easing the door shut behind her.

Head on a swivel, Cae, Booker’s voice echoed in her head. Slow and steady. Clear a place before you start scavenging. Don’t need any surprises.

He’d been such a stickler for securing a building. Military training rearing its head each time they went out for supplies.

Aisle by aisle she searched for the thing making noise—metal on metal, clink-clinking and scuffling.

Rounding a corner, she saw movement and jerked back, pulse spiking.

Easy. Don’t get spooked. Just take it out clean, just like I showed you.

Inhaling, she tightened her grip on the hatchet and moved forward.

The possum devouring the contents of a busted can lifted its head and hissed, clearly upset at the disturbance.

Caitlin covered her mouth to stop from crying out, and then to stifle her laughter.

A possum. Of course.

Booker would have killed it anyway—good meat, he’d say—but she left the thing alone. They both needed the win.

She finished clearing the small store and beelined for the pharmacy at the back. Surprisingly most of the prescriptions had been left alone, but that was probably due to the fact they were almost all antidepressants and allergy medicine.

Pulling out the slip of paper, she reread Nicole’s writing. There had to be at least one bottle of antibiotics…

Groaning in frustration, she hopped over the counter, heading for the back. Searching the shelves frantically, Caitlin discovered bottles marked alphabetically and squatted down near the section she thought might prove fruitful.

Reading a label again, she checked the paper once more and nearly cried. It was the brand name antibiotic Nicole said would work fastest.

“Oh, thank God,” she whispered, grabbing the container and dumping the pills into the plastic bag she’d brought.

In her elation she spotted a small amount of Vicodin and grabbed that too, stuffing it into her pack.

Her last item—fever reducer—was easy to find closer to where the filled prescriptions were kept. She had just tucked the bottle in with the antibiotics when she heard another door swing open, heavy boots crunching on debris.

“Man, I told you—”

“Shut up, idiot, it’s in the back.”

Caitlin dropped down into a squat, hiding behind the counter. These were not Geeks, nor were they the voices she expected from a military goon squad.

Two sets of boots stomped through the store, kicking at cans and casually searching the shelves.

“Ain’t nothin’ left in here t’eat,” one man said.

“We’ll eat after we get what we came for.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. They were coming closer.

Caitlin scanned the back of the pharmacy section. No exit.

Shit.

Silently crawling behind another shelving unit, she hoped she could wait them out. The two men were making enough noise to bring down a cluster of Geeks if they weren’t careful.

“What’s Well-Bu-trin?” One sounded out.

“I dunno, I think it makes ya happy or sumthin’.”

Caitlin prayed they were there for allergy pills.

She was wrong.

“Oh, shit man, grab that Xanax.”

“Why?”

“You ever crush that shit up and snort it? Fuckin’ get ya lit, man.”

Caitlin scowled. Great, she was trapped with a couple of pill poppers.

The world might’ve ended, but people never changed.

She waited and waited but they didn’t leave. And then one of them said to go to the back ‘where the good shit was’ and she knew she was in trouble.

Just when she thought running for it might be her only option, a pair of filthy boots came into view and suddenly she was staring up at one of the guys hunting for something stronger than Claritin.

“Oh-ho!” He hollered. “What’ve we got here?”

He had her by the arm before she could blink, hauling her up.

His face was streaked with dirt and his breath smelled rotten, like he hadn’t used a toothbrush in years.

“Earl?” The other hopped the counter. “Ohhh shit.”

The one holding her arm—Earl—glared down at her. “Whatcha doin’ hiding’ back here, girl?”

Yanking out of his grasp, Caitlin backed up, putting some distance between her and the two men.

“I was just leaving.” She gripped the strap of her pack and started to walk around Earl.

The other stepped in front of her. “What you got in that bag, lil girl?”

Caitlin sneered. “Tampons. Lots and lots of them.”

Earl grimaced while his buddy laughed.

“Ain’t none of those back here,” he said, glancing around at the pharmacy collection.

“Mack, they ain’t got any Oxy,” Earl called from where he was searching the shelves.

Caitlin’s stare bounced between the two men. For a moment she thought about bribing her freedom from them with the Vicodin but decided against it. They wouldn’t get a thing from her.

Mack turned to look at her. “What you really got in that bag, huh?”

“Nothing you want.”

“Oh?” Mack took a step forward. “You sure about that?”

Earl was circling behind her while Mack moved closer. They were pinning her between them.

“Betcha she took it,” Earl said, boots scuffing on the tile.

“Betcha she’s got somethin’ good in there,” Mack added, eyeing her bag.

“I don’t have anything, you assholes.”

“Oh, she’s a live one, Earl.” Mack chuckled, glancing at his buddy. “You’re sure holdin’ onto that pack awfully tight.”

Caitlin didn’t even blink.

Show no fear.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” she said. “Like I said, I was just leaving.”

“’Cept you might be leavin’ with what we want.”

Trying not to curl her lip, she said, “I don’t have any OxyContin.”

Earl slammed his fist against the shelf, making her jump.

“Then where’d it all go?”

Idiots. Two pill popping idiots.

“Probably with one of the other hundreds of people who looted this place,” she snapped, glaring over her shoulder. “Looks like you boys were too late.” Gaze shifting to Mack, she added, “Now, I have somewhere to be. So—”

Mack lifted the tire iron he’d been carrying, pointing it at her. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘til we look in that bag.”

“I’ve got a water bottle, a granola bar, and a map.” She pegged him with a hard stare. “Are you really gonna kill me over that?”

His grin was jagged and pure evil. “You think I ain’t killed for less?”

Caitlin’s blood ran cold. These were not men she could bargain with, reason with, or even appeal to their selfish natures. They would take whatever they could from her, and that wasn’t limited to narcotics.

Before she could react, Earl was shoving her forward, grabbing her pack off her shoulder. Mack caught her as she stumbled, twisting her around and holding her by the throat.

“Gotcha,” he laughed in her ear.

As she struggled against him, Earl unzipped her bag to find the Ziploc filled with pills.

“Looks like you’re a lyin’ bitch,” Mack snarled.

“It’s antibiotics,” she told them, straining with his hand around her windpipe.

Earl shook the bag and Mack tsked.

“Yeah, and I’m Santa Claus.”

If someone’s got you from behind, whaddya do? Booker’s voice echoed, the self-defense lessons he gave her rushing back. Easiest parts of a man to hit are his feet, his shins, his groin, his nose.

Mack laughed next to her head, breath just as rank as Earl’s. Caitlin forced herself to inhale deeply, steadying herself.

Strongest weapons you got are already a part of you. Heels, elbows, skull. G’head, show me.

She closed her eyes.

Show ‘em, Cae.

Caitlin brought her heel down on Mack’s toe, and the man yelled. Before he knew what was happening, she reared back, slamming the back of her head into his nose. Blood splattered onto her shoulder as he screamed. With as much force as she could gather, Caitlin jabbed her elbow into his side, and then again lower, and Mack buckled like he was made of popsicle sticks.

“Fuck you!” He rolled on the floor, arms doubled over his groin.

Earl dropped her stuff, rushing for her.

Keep your thumb over those two knuckles, don’t aim for the jaw, go for the nose.

She did just that—Fist colliding with Earl’s nose with a sickening crunch. Blood poured over her hand and down his face as he toppled.

While the men reeled from their injuries, Caitlin ran to gather up her stuff, shoving all the medicine back into her bag.

“You fuckin’ bitch!” Mack yelled, forcing himself to his knees. “I’ll kill you!”

She started to run but Earl grabbed her ankle and she tripped, sprawling on the floor. Kicking out, her heel landed against Earl’s thumb, and she heard it snap. He screamed and let go.

Scrambling, she grabbed her bag and darted for the exit.

Shocking pain lanced up the back of her head and for a split second, her vision was black. Caitlin dropped to the floor again, clutching her head.

The clatter of metal was the only clue as to what hit her. Mack had thrown his tire iron.

Her ears rang, and she curled onto her side as blood seeped through her fingers.

Booker... She had to get back to Booker.

Flipping onto her stomach, she clawed at the tile, dragging herself forward.

“I’ll kill you,” Mack was shouting but it sounded distant to her. “You think you can get away from me?”

The pain was so intense it made her queasy, but Caitlin kept moving, kept pushing onto her hands and knees. Her pack had skidded under a shelf, but she could see it through her tunneling vision.

A hand was on her leg, yanking her backwards. She screamed, flailing her arms out, trying to grab onto anything.

Her fingers circled around something heavy and solid and she twisted, trying to stop herself before she was too close to her attacker.

She registered the sound before anything else.

Like ice crunching under a steel-toed boot.

Blinking, she could finally focus. Could finally see what she’d swung, and what she’d hit.

Mack’s tire iron was bloody and clutched in her hand.

His head was split, gushing red like something out of a horror movie.

Mouth gaping, he collapsed in a heap next to her, unmoving.

If he wasn’t dead, he would be soon.

Gasping, Caitlin pushed away from his body, forcing her feet under her. She was finally upright, but she was swaying violently as she ran to grab her pack.

She heard Earl yelling behind her. He was calling out for Mack, screaming at her, saying she’d killed him.

Better him than her.

Retrieving her backpack, she yanked it onto her shoulder and stopped.

She was injured, concussed, weak. She’d just murdered a man, and his friend was close to coming after her.

Her gaze drifted towards the front of the store.

At first, she thought the shadows were spots in her vision, but when she focused, she could make out the heads and hands all bobbing and grabbing at the windows and doors.

Geeks. A horde of them.

The commotion from their fight had gotten the attention of all the undead nearby.

Before she could even take a breath, the glass shattered, and dozens of decaying bodies tumbled inside.

Earl was closer now, but the impending swarm of zombies had stopped him in his tracks.

Caitlin’s hand found the revolver in the front pocket of her bag, her gaze never straying from the wall of Geeks moving through the store. Swiftly, she yanked it free and pulled back the hammer.

Booker always said she didn’t have it in her to kill. She wasn’t cold enough, wasn’t self-serving enough.

But her hands were caked in evidence to the contrary.

And she’d promised to make it home to him.

Turning her head, she found her target, aimed for Earl’s knee, and pulled the trigger.

To Be Continued…

[dazombi3fari3]

*NOTE* I realize there is so much seriousness going on in the world right now and I just wanted to say the health updates I have been giving isn’t in anyway me whining or complaining about having the flu when so many more people are so very ill right now. I just want to update you on my individual journey with this Covid-19 virus… since my Doctor and the testing center have put me on quarantine until my test results come back I thought I would log my experience with what is going on right now.

Also …. I know with everything that is going on right now with this pandemic that makeup and beauty aren’t really important topics…. but I find that makeup helps take my mind off of things for a while and blogging about it helps fill my day with something other than watching TV from bed. I hope and pray that you do know I am not being flippant about what is going on in our world right now. I just want to bring something to the world that isn’t virus related to read and maybe even something that you might like to recreate to give you something to do while we are all stuck inside the house. Something to help take your minds off of this very serious situation, even if it’s just for a few moments…. I in no way meant to come across as arrogant, flippant, or callous … I say this because it was bought to my attention that this is how my blog posts are coming across…. I am truly sorry if I have made anyone feel this way…. this was never my attention…. now with that being said… I will continue to do a daily makeup look and will continue to blog about all things beauty because it helps me get my mind off being stuck in quarantine and it gives me something to do while I wait out my test results…. I just didn’t mean to, nor do I now mean to, offend anyone… and for that I am sorry.

So with that said … let’s jump into today’s post….

Hey doll hey! How’s your day/night going? Great I hope. I was feeling so crappy today that I stayed in bed until 11:30 AM. My fever has broken but I still have the chills. I still feel pretty weak and my throat is still very sore. This cough kept me up 1/2 the night. I’m able to hold food down again so that’s a plus.

Today I decided to play with the ColourPop Making Mauves Palette again. So let’s get into today’s scent and Face of the Day ….

Love and Glamour by Jennifer Lopez. This was gift so I don’t know where it was purchased or even how much was spent on it but in researching the notes to this perfume I was able to find that it is sold on line at sites like perfume.com for around $43 for a 2.5 fluid ounce bottle. the top notes of this perfume are: Italian Mandarin, Guava, and Peach Flesh. The heart notes are: Coconut, Orange Blossom, and Jasmine Petals. And the base notes are: Sandalwood, Musk, and Amber. This perfume is a very unassuming scent. IT has a very crisp slightly sweet scent that just seems to become part of  your body. What I mean is some perfumes seem to just sit on top and over power the skin…. this scent sinks into the skin nicely and just melds nicely with your own natural scent. I love this perfume very much. I have the 2.5 fluid ounce bottle and when I have finished it I will definitely be repurchasing it.

Base:                                                                                                                                                         I primed my face using I Heart Revolution Coconut Dream Hydrating Primer ($8 at Ulta). My foundation today is a combo of 2 pumps of Marc Jacobs Dew Drops Coconut Gel Highlighter ($45 at Sephora) in the shade Dew You? and 7 pumps of Pixi Beauty Flawless Beauty Fluid (Discontinued but can still be found on Amazon) in the shade No. 3 Warm. I lightly color corrected my under eyes using Pixi by Petra Correction Concentrate ($12 at Target and on the Pixi Beauty website) in the shade Brightening Peach. I used 5 dots for each under eye of ColourPop No Filter Concealer ($7 on their website) in the shade Medium 20. I set my full face using  Believe Beauty Matte Blur Loose Powder ($5 at Dollar General) in the shade Translucent and warmed up my face using Benefit Hoola Bronzer ($30 at Ulta). For touch up powder today I am using Flower Beauty Light Illusion Perfecting Powder ($13.99 at Target) in the shade Beige L4-M1.

Eyes:                                                                                                                                                         I primed my lids using P.Louise Base ($10 pound sterling/ $12.08 USD on their website… can also be found on the Morphie website for $15) in the shade Rumour 0.5 and today I chose not to set the base again today… I really like how this base grabs a hold of the shadows and it is really easy to blend shadows out even though the base is sticky. or today’s eye look I used the ColourPop Making Mauves Eye shadow Palette ($14 on their website). For my first transition shade I used the color Solitaire (soft mauve matte). For my second transition shade I used the color Tongue Tied: (mauve with pinpoints of silver and violet pearl sequin shadow). For my crease and the outer 1/3 of my mobile lid I used the shade Marquee (muted plum matte). On the remaining 2/3 of my mobile lid I used the shade Mauve On Top (icy rose metallic). I then went in with the shade A LA Mode (true mauve with pinpoints of silver and copper pearl ultra metallic) and patted it on the middle 1/3 to blend the shades together…. I then went back in with the shade Mauve On Top and patted that over the middle 1/3 to bring down the color a bit. For my lower lash line I used more of the shades Solitaire (to create a drop shadow) and Tongue Tided (to deepen up the drop shadow) and then I went in with more of Marquee (to deepen up the lash line). I lined my lower waterlines using NYX Faux Whites Liner ($8 at Ulta) in the shade Linen (a nude). I set my brows using Maybelline Great Lash Mascara ($6.99 at Ulta but I purchased mine from Amazon) in clear and then filled in my brows using Benefit Precisely My Brow Pencil ($24 at Ulta and Sephora) in the shade 4.5 and then I carved out my brow line using the BH Studio Pro Brow Highlighter ($5 on their website) on the shimmer side and set the brow line using L’Oreal Infallible 24-HR Eye Shadow ($9.99 on their website) in the shade 899 Endless Pearl (a creamy vanilla matte).I popped on a pair Kiss Looks So Natural Lashes ($12 for 5 pairs at Ulta) in the style Flirty and coated my upper and lower lashes with L’Oreal Voluminous Carbon Black Mascara ($8.99 at Ulta).

Cheeks and Lips:                                                                                                                               For blush today I used the ColourPop Pressed Powder Blush ($8 on their website) in the shade Coast to Coast (soft mauve matte). I highlighted my Cupid’s Bow, tops of the cheeks, bridge of the nose, and high points of the brows using Benefit Boxed Highlighter ($30 at Ulta and Sephora) in the shade Cookie (a pale yellow champagne with a slight silver reflect). I lined my lips using ColourPop Lippie Pencil (now only sold in their Lippie Pencil Vault on their website) in the shade On Ice ( deep sangria) and filled in the lips using ColourPop Lippie Stix ($7 on their website) in the shade Ellarie (deep cranberry matte).

Final Thoughts:                                                                                                                                      I tried this foundation with the L’Oreal True Match Lumi Glow Amour Glow Boosting Drops ($14.99 at Ulta) in the shade Day Break and this made the foundation pill up and slide around the face and it made the foundation lift off from some places on the face… so I had to take the foundation off and use a different illuminator to mix in. At first I thought it might have been the primer (I had put on a large amount of primer because I squeezed too much out and couldn’t get it back into the tube so I just used it on my face). It might very well have been the primer overload but I decided to go back in with a small amount of primer and a different illuminator anyway. The result was a smooth, even application of the mixture

Well that’s all for now dolls. I hope and pray that you are safe, healthy, and in good spirits and that you have a great rest of your day/night. Remember …. Save a spoon for a bit of lipstick.

XOXO

Making Mauves Eye Look #2 Face of the Day *NOTE* I realize there is so much seriousness going on in the world right now and I just wanted to say the health updates I have been giving isn't in anyway me whining or complaining about having the flu when so many more people are so very ill right now.

[alice-you]

ICI Pilling Tester, ICI Pilling Box Test Method GT-C18B

[max-lucy-blog1]

fabric pilling test machine

What’s the ICI Pilling and Snagging Tester used for?

ICI Pilling and Snagging Tester / Pilling Box. To rapidly replicate pilling or snagging on fabrics in a fraction of the time due to normal wear.

ICI pilling and snagging tester uses a universal drive system with 2 or 4 position, electronic digital counter, and sample mounting fixture. The machine accepts ICI Pilling boxes and ICI pilling drums / snagging boxes and snagging drums.

Do you want to know more about the ICI Pilling and Snagging Tester ?

Specifications

Rotation Speed 60 +/ -2 rpm, adjustable

Control Mode Single chip control

Display             LCD

Optional order

Pilling Assessment Viewer

Set of 5 Photographic Standards

Mounting Jig (used to install specimens easily)

Cork liner

Rubber tube

Want to know more of ICI Pilling and Snagging Tester ? Please click：

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[spontaneous-temptation]

10 Days of Prompts: Day 2

The rain beating against the open window was the only sound in the room, the droplets soaking the blanket she was huddled under. Drenched and empty she just sat there, unable to move under the weight of her sorrow, her shivers freed freezing cold water from her nappy hair and sent them down her back. Empty eyes surveyed the room; she'd lit candles and placed them everywhere because they'd turned off her lights while she was gone, her tiled floors were cold not because she'd left the window open, but because they'd shut off her gas as well.

She raised a weak hand to the window sill in an attempt to get off of the floor but she didn’t have the strength to move. Her muscles were screaming at her, stiff from the cold and cramped from sitting in that position for a week. She struggled to her feet and stumbling into her bathroom she heaved, nausea making her woozy as her body questioned the logic of taking pills on an empty stomach. She looked up and was taken aback by the pale creature she saw there. Her kinky, thick dark hair was a nappy mess, piled upon her head like damaged wool. Her brown eyes; dim and sunken, were weighed down by dark circles.

"Hideous ain't it? Not that that's anything new right?" A coarse voice in the back of her mind whispers

She staggered away from the mirror and back to her spot under the window. She wrapped the wet blanket around herself again and tried to conjure up memories of the happier times but there was nothing.

"This again? You know how this is going to go. Get over it he left. You're alone. With me."

Memories of sweet dark skin and warm smiles filled her mind. Whispered promises and heated reassurances reminded her that everyone lied. Especially those you held closest to your heart.

"No matter what happens, no matter what anyone says, you can always count on me Kay. No matter what." His voice was gentle and smooth, soothing all the hurts. Now the memory filled her with despair.

"I don't know why you believed him. No one wants you. 'No matter what, Babe.' I can't believe you fell for that. No one will stay by you dumbass."

"Shut up… Please."  

The dark voice chuckled, its very presence a mockery of companionship.

"He wasn't there on Monday was he? No one was."

Monday… She looked down at her wrist; the tag was still there, still reminding her of her stupidity.

Kaluah Harper Female, 20 Mount Sinai, Building #5

Yeah, Monday. She'd been released, what was that seven, eight days ago? It felt like another lifetime entirely. She remembered being involuntarily admitted after her last panic attack had led to her spilling her guts to the doctor. They'd kept her for a month and a half, every day a bad as the last. She remembered that no one visited her, no matter who she called or how often. She remembered everyday being filled with fear, cold and suffocating. When they finally let her go, no one was there to greet her. When she arrived at her apartment it was empty her boyfriend and their pets gone, the house an icy, desolate grave. All that was left were the bills, piled upon the counter and slipped under the door. Red inked warnings angrily staring her down. The memory slipped away, leaving her alone; soaking wet underneath the window in a cold, empty apartment.

"He promised."

"He lied, like I said he would."

A sob wrenched its way out of her and racked her aching body.

"He said he would stay."

"No one wants to stay with an inept thing like you. You can't even make the bed without breaking something."

She looked over at the shattered remains of the glass unicorn music box he'd gotten for her lay. The crystal shards glittering in the candle light, just as broken as when she'd knocked it over the morning of her panic attack.

"Stupid, stupid girl. I don't even know how you managed to mess up a relationship so perfect. But he wasn't the first person you chased away. Your friends left first right?"

"Shut up. Please…"

"What was her name, Donnah? Oh and don't forget Luis and Joanna. Fuck even the cats steered clear of you."

"Shut up."

"Or what? You'll cry at me? I'm all you have left, I'm pretty sure even your parents forgot you. They have three other, better children anyway."

"SHUT UP!"

She slammed her hands on the floor at either side of herself. One hand slid against cold tile, the other hit the glass. Pain ran up her arm as the glass sunk into her soft flesh. Lifting up her hand, she gingerly began to pluck the shards and chunks from her palm. The voice in the back of her head slipped in to a scornful whisper, drowned out by the pain.

"I won't be gone for long. I'm all you have now."

She looked up at the empty room and shook her head.

"Not for long."

Picking up the largest piece of glass she could find, she sliced deeply into her hand, letting the blood drip down to her fingers.

"Coward… Even in death I will follow."

She struggled to her knees, crawling away from the window. Dragging her fingers across the floor, she feverishly began drawing symbols, trying desperately to recall the ones she's seen on TV and in her favorite manga.

"You really are pathetic. It's not going to work, it isn't real."

  When the blood ran dry, she cut into another finger. Again and again; cutting and drawing until her hands throbbed in agony and her vision swam from exhaustion. When the circle was complete she sat back on her heels and sobbed.

"Please, please, please, please…"

She whispered over and over until her voice became hoarse.

"Nothing is going to happen, no one is coming. You are alone."

She kept chanting, begging something to answer her. Outside the wind became violent, frozen rain slammed against her window and thunder raged.  A vicious wind ripped through her apartment, putting out all of the candles and stealing her strength. Her legs slipped out from underneath her and she fell back bumping her head against the wall. Shivers wracked her body as she wrapped her arms around herself and cried.

"See? You even failed to sell your soul, but maybe it's for the best. No one needs to be burdened by any part of you. Maybe you should have gone for suicide. Way less messy."

She hugged herself and rocked and wept. There was nothing else she could do. Back and forth she went, trying frantically to sooth her own hurts.  Outside, the rain puttered out into a drizzle and the thunder died down to a quiet play of lightening among the clouds. Suddenly the candles roared back to life, brighter and hotter than they'd ever been. The bloody mess on the floor began to twist and glow, a dim light flicked in the center of the circle before exploding into a swirling hole in the floor. The fire from the candles became towers of flames that danced toward the hole. Together they writhed and fought taking the form of a massive beast, their edges licked at her toes and along her walls and ceiling, leaving deep black scorches. Terrifying screams echoed out from the hole and she desperately wished she could join them. The giant flame beast began to condense itself, taking on a human shape. She watched the flames cool into reddish brown skin, watched them curl upwards into wickedly curved horns and claws. Cold red eyes, absolutely alien in nature, bled into black and a malicious smile filled with cruelly sharp teeth formed next and then it spoke.

"Look upon me and despair mortal. The most tainted of souls will not be enough to feed my rage. Your pathetic soul will not even wet my appetite. Who are you that dare summon me? Tell me your name so that I may carve it into the flesh of your first sacrifice."

She looked up at the terrifying creature with wide disbelieving eyes. The voice was completely silent now.

"You test my patience Mortal. Give me your name, so that I may bind your soul."

"But I haven't asked for anything yet."

The creature scoffed.

"You think that you can just summon the King of Hell and escape with your soul? Were you born yesterday?"

"What can I ask for?"

Satan scowled down at her but the circle compelled him to answer her question.

"Yes you may ask for any one thing, but first your name, Mortal."

She sat up and scooted a space closer to the circle, light shining in her eyes for the first time in days.

"I-I can ask you for anything?"

"Do you get off on testing my patience Human? Your fucking name before I devour you here and now." He growled down at her

She shrunk away from his rage, fear rising in her again.

"K- Kaluah Harp-per and I only want one thing."

The smooth smile returned to his face. As he crossed his arms in front of his chest, she could almost hear the purr in his voice.

"Name the price for your soul Miss Harper."

"A friend."

Rage visibly wrapped itself around the demon king; it whipped around him wildly playing in his long, sleek black hair.

"You mock me Mortal. You wish for me to conjure you a friend? Insult me again at your peril."

The fear was suffocating now. She looked down and the floor in shame.

"I-I don't want you to make me a friend, I just… All I- I'm asking if you'll be my friend."

Satan chuckled darkly, biting back the urge to outright laugh at the absurdity of this human woman's request.

"You think yourself worthy of my company? You're joking right? Stop wasting my time and ask for something substantial… Or don't your soul is mine either way."

She didn’t know where it came from but a wash of courage filled her and Kaluah refused to back down.

"It's my fucking soul, so I'll barter it for what I see fit. You asked me what I wished for and I told you. That is my price, my only price and if you can't grant that single wish, I'll summon a demon that can."

All the bravado left her as suddenly as it came. She wilted, shoulder slumped in defeat.

"Who am I kidding, not even the Devil wants my soul. I just don't know what else to do, or what else I can give you. Just please, please. All I ask is that you be my friend."

The room was absolutely silent for longer than was comfortable. Completely crushed Kaluah leaned forward to break the circle, when Satan reached out and grabbed her hand.  

"If you break the circle, I'll be free to terrorize your world."

The magic of the circle crackled around their hands as it tried to contain Satan, it sparked against her skin like an overloaded surge protector. She looked up at him with empty, defeated eyes.  

"You'll have to get through me to get out of this house. Six or one half dozen of the other, I won't be lonely anymore."

No one can truly say what went through Satan's mind in that moment, but he tightened his grip on her wrist and smiled.

"My friends call me Natasha."

The circle exploded, catching the flames in its death throws. Magic rippled outwards shattering the windows and traveling for miles, knocking out the power and burning religious symbols.  Satan's form shifted and changed as he kneeled down in front of the girl. His horns disappeared and his claws became delicately manicured nails. The black in his eyes became a more normal white and the red faded to a warm chocolate brown. Full luscious lips screwed up into a frown as he looked down at her hands.

"You really made a mess of yourself here huh?"

"We're really friends now? Even though you're the Devil and I'm just a pathetic mortal? "

"I told you to call me Natasha. And yeah, we’re friends."

Kaluah gave him a bright watery smile and buried her face in his chest, whispering thank you over and over.

Natasha shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. Now, let's go get you cleaned up."

 Kaluah looked out her hospital window and smiled fondly. That had been years ago. Natasha had been a man of his word, he'd been her companion ever since and they'd gotten into so much shit together. Moving, getting her pets back, getting back at her ex. He took her to see the world. They'd taken pictures with the Queens guards in England, meditated with Tibetan monks, walked the Great Wall of China and sipped tea with Geisha in Japan. They played video games well into the night and spoke of secret things in hushed whispers until the sun rose. He'd been her friend through every move and break up; the good, the bad and the really bad. They buried her pets together when they got too old.

It wasn't all a walk in the park though. Arguments happened, hours spent awake led to stupid fights. Natasha was still the king of Hell and Kaluah had given him a free pass to the mortal realm. He'd work his evil and sometimes it would trace back to her. People would come after her; well-meaning holy men and women who thought her an unwilling thrall, exorcists that demanded her conversion to their belief and eventually the expunging of Lucifer from her soul, (To them she had to explain the Satan and Lucifer were two completely different people.) Demons who thought they could weaken their king by hurting her. Even angels came to her, some insisting that she turn away from Satan and his lies, others simply seeking her death. Natasha killed them, one and all. He'd become fiercely protective over the years. But eventually he had to teach her some magic so that she could protect herself when his work took him elsewhere.

Through thick and thin he'd been there no matter what, just as he'd promised.  When the voices returned and she began to doubt, he was there. When she went back to the hospital he visited every day and was there when she was let out. When she wanted to go back to school her supported her all the way. When she needed someone to help her plan her wedding, he was there. He even escorted her down the aisle. She was still the same self-conscious, shy, depressed and quiet person, but she wasn't lonely anymore. Her smile widened as she looked at the table where cards and balloons sat. Get well soons and see you soon litter the small tables. But this was the end, she'd lived her life and the past 90 years had been amazing. Now it was time for her to go. The door creaked open and even though moving hurt, she slowly turned to see who it was.

"No, no. Don't move, I'll come to you."

The entire room light up with the force of her smile.

"Natasha! I didn’t think I see you before… Well you know. Have I told you yet that you make quite the dapper old man? So are you here to collect?"

The all-powerful King of Demons looked down at her old weather form a soft, sad smile on his face.

"No you haven't and I for one am appalled that it's taken you this long. But it's collection time…I guess? I don't really know? How about eternal youth? I hear it's pretty fucking awesome."

The old woman giggled and shook her head. The action triggered a coughing fit and as she wheezed and struggled for air, Natasha had to look away, unable to watch her die. Kaluah reached for his hand and squeezed. He looked up at her smiling face.

"No thank you on the whole immortality thing. I'm ready for the next part, eternity with you right? What's our next adventure?"

The pain that crossed his face was tangible.

"No more adventures for you, I'm afraid. Just an eternity of torture for selling your soul."

Kaluah's smile softened and she stroked his cheek.

"That's okay. It's a decent for all the time we spent together Tasha. In fact, it pales in comparison; I think I got away like a fat rat in this bargain."

She squeezed his hand as tightly as she could, but he could barely feel her grip.

"It's alright. I've made my peace and we both knew how this was gonna end. I just want to say thank you for everything, for every day and for this fucking amazingly bad ass scar."

A wry smile made it on to his face.

"Oh no, don't you dare try to pin that shit on me again. You're the bitch that still can't fucking duck."

"It was an AXE! How was I supposed to know he could move it that fast?"

"Whatever, clumsy fuck…"

"I still saved your ass, so there. Now stop pretending like you're Billy badass amazing and sing me a song."

"Alright, alright."

He wet his lips and began to sing a sweet melody, one from when he still had God's ear and favor. She never heard the end of the song, she drifted to sleep and then quietly into death. And as the machines blared to life and the hospital staff rushed to save her he sang, tears streaming down his face as he choked the words out. The doctors milled around him unable to see him as he faded away, the contract fulfilled, he was returning to Hell. He got to stay just long enough to see Death collect her. She looked over to where he was sitting a winked at him, before being whisked away.

He landed back behind his desk, his sorrow almost swallowing him whole. The right hand of the King, Original Sin sat on the edge of the desk. Sensing his presence he turned to him, his smile fading when he noticed his King's despair. He gathered him into his arms and hissed sweet words into his ears. They sat like that for hours before Natasha sat straight up in his seat.

"Fuck this… I'm the fucking King. I will not wallow in my own bullshit."

He riffled through all the papers on his desk until he saw her name. Focusing his power into the page, he set it on fire. Green flames danced and flickered until there was nothing but ashes left. He blew on them and the ashes swirled and danced until her soul was in his hands, warm and flickering gently. Sin leaned forward and examined the tender soul.

"And what are you going to do with that Your Highness? Despite being yours, there isn't much sin attached to it."

Natasha opened one of his lower desk draws and riffled through it. He grinned triumphantly and pulled out a small bottle of pitch black ichor. Uncorking it with one hand he poured the vile liquid all over her soul, but it refused to stick. He growled in frustration.

"I will not be cheated by some bull shit ass rules."

With the same amount of desperation as she'd had when she summoned him all those years ago, he slit open his palm and willed her soul into demonhood, forcing his blood and the ichor into her soul and shaping he form. In the end he was exhausted but he'd done it. Confused and still in her hospital gown a young demonic version of his friend stood on the other side of his desk. She looked around frantically until her eyes found his familiar face.

"Tasha? Natasha what did you do? You're gonna get yourself into trouble aren't you?"

"No hi? No wow thanks? Just you're gonna get into trouble?"

She gave him a watery, worried look, wringing her hands in that nervous way of hers. He stood up and crossed the distance between them, wrapping her up in his arms in a tight desperate hug.

"I'm the King of Hell remember? I do what I want, when I want and no one is going to get in my way. Don't worry everything is gonna be okay. I think You'll make a fantastic left hand."

She stumbled backwards out of his grasp. Even Sin gave his king a dubious stare.

"Left Hand!?! Natasha have you taken complete leave of your fucking senses? People were trying to kill me as your friend."

"Best friend." He smugly interjected. She faltered for a moment.

"…Best friend… Regardless. There has to be someone better suited, someone I'm displacing. It's not fair to them Tasha! I could just be a regular demon… I don’t need any special treatment. I-I I'm nobody special."

The wind was blown from her sails as despair and doubt settled in. Her bravado gone she bargained with him in a far more subdued manner.

"What about Murder or Massacre or Pain or even Lucifer?"

Natasha shrugged.

"Murder and Massacre will deal with it, my father will bitch but he too will get over it and my son is the Prince of Pride, he doesn’t get to have a say."

He grabs her hands and pulls her close.

"You don’t even have to have a sin, or a title, you can just be my Left Hand. No one could bother you or get in the way of your exploring. You wouldn't even have to be associated with Wrath or any one realm just think of the possibilities!"

She hesitated.

"Come on. Think of the adventures." He whispered conspiratorially, his voice sing-song.

"Alright Natasha, so long as you'll always have my back I'll do it." She grinned at him. "So what is our first order of adventuring business? I was promised adventure."

Natasha grinned back, the sag in his shoulders belying his relief. Together they walked off whispering excitedly about what trouble they were going to stir up next. Behind them Sin shook his head, his mind filled with all the work his king had just left for him to do and the impending shit storm he was going to have to clean up.