#ill be away for a bit but ill try to get week 2 done soon

[tooblindtizzy]

bugger it this'll be a fun lil thing, even if I won't be on time (maybe ill post as a fortnightly thing idk)

anyways nocovember week 1! fun stuff happening while walking Noah's dog

creds to @zuureleena for this year's nocovember list!!

[urprettylittlething]

In The Shadows

Purge Alternate Universe

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Okayyyy I've been working on this for like a week and it's the longest I've ever written for one thing, I had a shoulder injury which is mostly healed up now during the week which hindered my progress a little because I originally really wanted this to get out nearer Halloween time, but oh well TT at least its here now right? Lmao, but I hope you guys enjoy it, I tried my best and lowkey kind of hate it, I wished I could've done more or something, but if you have any ideas around this for a possible part 2 let me knoww, although no promises ;) Consider this a massive thank you story, I now have over 100 followers and the likes and reblogs and comments, you guys, I'm crying, I love you all so much <333333 I love interacting with you guys and your comments on my stories or in my inbox <3333 you all make my day ilysm <3 :( AND IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP IT, they're kind of really mean so its more harsh yandere than the soft you all wanted :( I couldn't help myself its a purge AU TT, but I promise ill make something softer in the future <33 sorry this is so long omfg, but let me know your thoughts pretty please &lt;3 and if you actually read all of this ily

summary - Another purge night is here and you think your safe and sound, but let your guard down and you'll find yourself bound.

warnings - purge, mentions of 'off screen' murder, actual 'off screen' murder, kind of gore but reader doesn't see it, blood, rope, reader gets tied up, gags?, tape over readers mouth, they're actually kind of really mean lol, especially Geto, descriptions of panic, anxiety, overthinking, stalker situation kind of, swearing, crying, brief hair pulling, if there's any more let me know ml <3

genre - Oneshot

wc - 7.2k

~spelling and grammar fixed already~

Edit - the top photo 6/11/23

The tip tapping of fingers on keys echoed around the silent room. The occasional footfalls of people around her walking up and down. Picking up books to further aid their studying would slip past the music playing in her ears when they were loud enough.

Every time she would hear someone being a little too loud for the library they were in she would glance up and shoot a half-hearted glare their way.

They’d never see her but it was the thought that counted. A barely audible sigh escapes her as she brings a hand up to massage her cold fingertips into the throbbing skin at her temple. 

Nervous nibbling was occupying her teeth and lips, chewing away the flesh and creating tender spots her tongue would soon soothe. 

She’d been staring at the same empty document for two hours now. No more than two sentences she was able to come up with before she’d erase them in a fit of frustration.

Abandoned textbooks lay closed behind her laptop, she’d deemed them no use around thirty minutes in, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and search for better ones. 

She was antsy, not able to focus on her assignment due in a week's time. Her brain was all fogged up, too many thoughts going through her mind and yet she's not able to focus on a single one.

The purge was tonight. March 21st. And it was currently 1pm. 

Why did she even bother to come to the library in the first place? Was she hoping to distract herself even just a little bit before she had to hunker herself down in her dorm for twelve hours? 

Maybe. Yes.

Was it working? Absolutely not.

She was too skittish. Overthinking everything that had the potential of happening later and things that have previously happened. 

‘Someone's not going to come and try to kill me just because I forgot to return their pen that one time, right?’ 

The amusing, albeit a little dark, thought did make the corner of her lips twitch just the smallest amount. 

Taking off her headphones after stopping her music, she closes down her laptop and starts to move it into her bag. 

She spares a quick glance around the few tables next to hers as she stands with the library's books in her arms. Her eyes locked with a man sitting roughly two tables down. Slumped back in his seat.

Gojo Satoru. Bright white and fluffy hair paired with a set of dazzling blue eyes. The ones currently peeking over the tops of his round shades that had slid down his nose as he tucked his head down slightly. 

Sitting in front of him and abstracting her view of Gojo only slightly is who she assumed was Geto Suguru. Two peas in a pod and never seen without the other. The long black and silky strands of hair tied up in a half up bun was a giveaway to who he was as well.

Both of them were originally from Tokyo, Japan. Coming over to America over five years ago. Or at least that's what she’s heard from around the place, not knowing them personally. They were the most popular boys in school when she had joined a little over a year ago and they still held the title strong.

She doesn’t think she's ever really interacted with them. At Least not on any kind of personal level. Sure, maybe from a few friends of friends or passing each other in the hallway and being polite to her upperclassmen, but nothing all that memorable. 

Which is why this prolonged eye contact is sending a very noticeable shiver down her spine. The smallest twitch of a smirk on his face and she was breaking eye contact, gulping down the pooled saliva in her mouth as she turned around and hastily made her way in between the towering bookshelves.

Leaving the library after stacking the books she’d previously taken back on the shelves, she hastily makes her way down the long corridors. Keeping her head down, her hands clutched tight on the strap of her bag. She passes very few people in the hallway.

Even after pushing through the doors and trekking her way to the dorms at the end of the path, there were very few people loitering around outside. Some of the people she passed looked like they could be stoned, not that she could really blame them. Some looked a little too relaxed and happy and some were just trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Like her.

As the doors came into view, and then the stairs, she slowly began to relax, her fast pace lessening up. Successfully getting to the safest place she could for when the purge would start. 

It was also a massive relief that her two good friends would be staying with her during the twelve hours of horror. Last time she was by herself there had been multiple scares throughout the night. Nothing too big but something she didn’t think she could handle alone again. 

Reaching her door on the third floor she fiddles with her keys for a few seconds before her door clicks open and she pushes her way inside. Closing the door and locking it again for good measure. 

It was 1:43 pm.

A few minutes after she had arrived back at her dorm did she realize she still needed to pick up some food items. Being a broke student meant she had essentially nothing in her cupboards or her fridge. And if she was ‘hosting for the purge’ this year, it meant she had to stock up at least a little bit. 

‘Imagine trying to hide from a killer and your stomach growls, I think I would just die on the spot.’ She thinks, the smallest smile gracing her face. Humour is usually her way to cope in situations like these. It’s either that or panicking and she’d rather try to save that for the main event.

With a heavy sigh and hesitation weighing her limbs down, she slowly puts her shoes and jacket back on. She can make this quick. In and out. Easy peasy. 

With a quick jump while shaking her limbs out to get rid of her last minute hesitation, she quickly opens her door and steps out before shutting it behind her. No going back now. Locking the door behind her, she starts making her way back down the stairs and out the doors, walking in the direction of the food store. 

Her nerves were still playing up though, eyes darting this way and that as if trying to find a reason for her to panic. ‘It’s okay, the purge hasn’t started yet, all those things are still illegal.’ Is what she keeps telling herself while taking a deep breath. But the fact they won’t be in a few hours was still cause for some panic. 

Arriving at the store, she wizzes around, collecting any good looking snack and throwing it in her basket before hastily paying and leaving. The heavy plastic carrier bag hanging from her fingers gave her reason to think she went a bit overboard. 

Her quickened steps and accelerated breathing were all she could hear for a while. Her walk back to her dorm was supposed to be a quiet one, less and less people were loitering around meaning less and less noises to distract her. 

Especially from the new set of footsteps that have appeared behind her.

As soon as her mind clocked the extra set of footsteps there, it went into overdrive. ‘Who is that? Are they following me? No, you're being delusional, they're just trying to get back home. But are they? They just appeared out of nowhere. Are they going to try and kidnap me? Rape me? Stuff me in a van? Drag me down a dark alleyway and murder me?’

Her mind was racing, steps quickening and breathing silenced under the new threat. ‘Oh god, what if they’re stalking me? Waiting until the purge starts to come and slaughter me? They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’

And then they were gone. 

It barely registered in her mind that the fast paced footsteps from behind her had vanished. A sharp breath escaped her before her head whipped around on a desperate whim. No one. Not a soul on the path behind her. 

Her shoulders sank with relief and a watery laugh broke free from her trembling lips. ‘I’m losing my mind.’ She thought. Even though that feeling in her gut had faded, it never fully disappeared. Her racing heart never slowed and neither did her footsteps. 

Y/n hurried back to her dorm, almost running through the doors and up the stairs to fumble with her keys and quickly burst in. Double checking she locked the door behind her, and then checking every other lock on her third story apartment. Only when she had made sure they were all secure could she finally relax. 

Her body shivering and hands shaking from the after effects of adrenaline. Her breathing is still a little shaky as she pulls a bunch of pillows and blankets into her tiny living room. Pushing her chair and sofa away to make more space as she lays everything out as neat as she could, making the floor a comfy space for her and her two friends to crash for the purge. 

She empties the snacks from out of the plastic bag and piles them in a nice little corner near the TV. A small stack of movies there for when they’re all waiting for the purge to start. Some cards in a pack were also placed there. 

The three of them are wanting to be as quiet as possible while the purge is going on. Everything locked, curtains drawn, lights off, TV with no volume and only subtitles, quiet games to play in case they got bored, etc. 

They weren’t taking any chances. It was doubtful anything would happen, since nothing really ever did in the dorms. No student here would go as far as murdering somebody, everyone mostly stayed inside, not wanting to risk anything. She only knew of a few people that have snuck out before to rob a few stores, or do some petty revenge like smashing someone's car without getting into trouble.

But overall, it was best to remain quiet. They didn’t want to get murdered because the TV was turned up too loudly and attracted some wrong attention. 

It was 5:15 pm.

This is the time her friends arrived. Knocking some made up code on the slab of wood before messaging just for good measure that it was really them outside. 

After unlocking the door and letting her two good friends inside her dorm she swiftly closes and locks it again. Relieved greetings transpire as well as nervous whispers about the purge and some small gossip of who they think would actually go out this year and who are likely to stay inside. 

The three of them start to make their way around her dorm, closing all the curtains and double checking the locks on all the windows and doors. Especially the balcony and front door. 

After they’ve secured the apartment, they turn off all the necessary lights, flicking on a few electrical lanterns and setting them up around the living room, but away from the windows. They’ve left one lantern in the bathroom and one in her bedroom, both turned off, just in case of emergencies.  

The three of them settle in a spread out pile on the blankets she put down in the living room. Some snacks are passed around already and a movie is slotted into the TV, playing as background noise mostly while they talk.

Erica, a sassy but kind of dumb girl, with choppy shoulder length hair that had been bleached and dyed a light green. She's donned in a crop top and sweatpants, comfy.

Don, a friendly giant, very kind in nature but also a little muscly. He has short black hair and a sculpted jawline. He also came in sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, also comfy.

Her two very good, and only, friends here. They’re in a few of her classes and all regularly hang out together. 

“So,” Erica begins after her mouthful of powdered donut. “Who do you think is going to actually purge tonight? Like, actually actually. My moneys on them two hotties in my class.” She finishes, wiggling her eyebrows..

Don hums around his half empty soda can. “Yeah, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they did.”

Y/n pipes up, “Wait who?” sitting up against the sofa behind her, getting comfy like she's about to hear the gossip of a lifetime.

“Oh, Em, G! You haven’t heard of it? You’ve seriously been, like, living under a rock or something.” Erica says jokingly. Picking apart pieces of her donut and eating them. 

Don perks up too. “Really? You haven't?” Y/n shakes her head in denial as Don shrugs. “I get it, it’s mostly stayed in our class, hasn’t spread much further than that.” He says before crawling forward and rummaging around for more snacks.

“So get a load of this right!” Erica sits up too after finishing her donut. Waving her hands excitedly as she tells her latest gossip. “You know them two really hot upperclassmen right?” She draws out her ‘really’ and waits patiently at the end of her sentence for the other girl's confirmation. 

When she nods in slight confusion, Erica continues, “There were some major rumours in class that the two of them were late this one day because they were beating someone up. And I don't mean like a few slaps or hair pulling, I mean punches. You know?”

Y/n nods again, this time with furrowed brows and Erica continues, “At first, I didn’t believe it, obviously. But then, the two of them came into class and I swear there were blood stains on their clothes. Blood stains! Not to mention all the plasters and bandages all over their hands! I just had to believe it then! Wouldn’t you?”

After the end of her long rant she slumps back against the front of the sofa and mumbles incoherently to herself shaking her head while pouting.

Don, who had been listening silently, pipes up, “It was true, I was actually there for once.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in disbelief at what she had just heard. Fighting, here? She couldn’t help but to doubt it, if only just a little. Stuff like that has never happened here. Or at least while she had been here. It was just unheard of.

And for an attack so vicious to result in blood being drawn, then there must have been somewhat of a good reason for it. That was the conclusion she came to.

“I mean, there had to have been a good reason for it.” Y/n says, “They’re pretty nice people aren't they? It is Gojo and Geto were talking about here, right? They’re really popular here too.” Her eyes darted between her two friends, looking for more answers on this unexpected juicy gossip.

Erica sighs wistfully, “No, it got shut down pretty quick, which I guess is why so little people have heard about it. God, would I pay to see them fight though. Their muscles must have looked amazing.” 

They stop talking about it after that, Don getting distracted by the snacks and whining about how she didn’t get his favourite. Erica smacking him with a few pillows and complaining how he’s getting in the way of her movie she was barely even watching. 

Their playful banter did little to distract from her inner turmoil. A small shiver went down her spine again. The memory from earlier in the library resurfacing in her mind. Gojo staring her down, the creepy walk back from the shops and now learning the two had at the very least helped in injuring someone.

It could just be because it was purge day, but everything was beginning to creep her out and she was overthinking again. ‘What if he wants to attack me next? What if all of those things were connected and someone really was following me home? What if he wants to kill me? What if both of them want to kill me? Have I ever done anything to offend them? I haven’t, have I?’ She knew these were far fetched and ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but think of them anyway.

Her spiralling thoughts were halted when a stray pillow smacked her in the face. “Oops, haha, sorry.” Erica sheepishly apologized, bringing her hand up to smooth down Y/n’s ruffled hair. Don was laughing in the background.  

Y/n was stunned for a few seconds before replying, “Oh, don’t worry. How about we put something else on? This movie is kind of boring.” crawling across the piles of pillows and blankets to reach the stack of movies.

This caught the other two’s attention, eagerly rushing to the stack as well to try and get first pick. Arguing for a few more minutes before settling on a movie they all loved. Snuggling back into their original positions.

This was how the next few hours went before the announcement appeared.

It was 6:59 pm.

At exactly 7 on the dot, the TV went black before turning blue, the government announcing the commencement of the purge. Big bold letters and ‘Emergency Broadcast System’ and ‘This is not a test’ were displayed on the screen.

They were all quiet as it played out. The mood quickly turned sombre.

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

Don gulped.

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

Erica huffed.

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.” 

Y/n shivered.

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am when The Purge concludes.”

She released a shaky breath. The announcement ends with “...A nation reborn.” before stopping. The screen turned black again.

No one moves or says anything. Each of them were frozen in an array of emotions. Fear being the most prominent. 

The silence stretched on for minutes. Eerie in its wake, not even being able to hear other people in their dorm rooms like she normally would.

Eventually, after releasing another shaky breath and rearranging herself with trembling limbs, they all snap back into the present. 

Don coughs and Erica shuffles awkwardly. 

“Cards, anyone?” Y/n meekly speaks up. The other two nod as they sit in a small circle. 

It was 7:36 pm.

This was when the first explosion of some kind was heard by them. Each of them froze in the middle of playing their mostly silent game of cards. The noise was distant, but the impact remained.

A scream from a few doors down echoed in the silent space.

They waited with baited breath for any follow up, but when nothing happened, they slowly relaxed. Each of them assumed it was the explosion that must have scared someone. Sometimes it’s better to think of the positive, rather than what that scream could have been for.

A few minutes later a siren bellows in the distance, a few car alarms wail.

Nothing too bad, but knowing that it could mean someone was being murdered out there didn’t give them any ease.

It was 8:02 pm. 

This is when the banging starts. Y/n thinks it could be a few doors down again. Erica thinks it’s below them and Don thinks it’s above them. 

Wherever it was, it was concerning. 

Erica releases a small nervous chuckle. “Maybe someone is just having a good time?” A fake smile plastered on her face to try and mask her worry. Even she didn’t believe her little theory. Not during a time like this, during The Purge.

It was a few minutes later, after they had quietly resumed their game, that footsteps were heard.

Clacking down the hallway. 

1, 2.

1, 2. 

1, 2. 

1, 2. 

They were walking at a leisurely pace. Taking their time. Strolling down the hallway and getting closer and closer.

All three of them looked towards the door, as if someone were to burst in at any moment.

The footsteps slow before coming to a stop. Right outside her door.

The three of them hold their breath, bodies flinching when a light knock rings out into the open space.

Complete silence.

Another knock.

None of them had even noticed the earlier noises had stopped, too focused on the potential threat now right outside the door. Seemingly wanting someone to open up.

Three pairs of eyes dart between each other. Silent questions trying to push their way out without being heard. A few panicked half shrugs and furrowed brows with downturned lips later, another knock rings out.

This time it was a little louder.

Barely audible whisperings of ‘you go’, ‘no you’, ‘fuck no’, ‘who even is it?’ cut through the silence. No one wanted to ask the question. To even speak a hint of it lest it result in it coming true.

Eventually after a solid minute of panicked, almost silent, squabbling later. A frustrated and frightened Erica pushed herself up. Taking a very obvious deep breath. Eyes closed and silently mumbling to herself before taking a few steps over to the front door.

She tried to be as quiet as she could but each step sounded like it weighed a ton. Every creek and every wobble made to sound the loudest. 

Very quietly bracing her hands upon the door, she leant up on her tiptoes. Peeking into the peephole positioned in the centre of the door.

The two left in the pile of blankets still. Not wanting to even breathe in fear of disturbing whatever was happening in front of them.

A sudden screech of pure panic and fear tore from Erica’s throat. Flailing before landing with a harsh thud on the floor beneath her. Scrambling backwards on her hands and feet, keeping her eyes on the door the entire time.

The two startle and immediately jump up, laboured breathing hindering their lungs from the sudden scare.

“What the fuck? Erica what happened? What was that?” Don frantically whispered. His eyes were also locked on the door. 

Y/n also whispered to her, “Who was that? Erica?” her eyes locked onto her friend, not able to bring herself to look at the door yet.

“It was.. Oh god.. The peep..” Erica wheezed out. The fright took too much out of her with her frantic gasps for air.

A sudden bang echoed into the room. A few more followed before they all realized it was coming from the front door. 

Erica screeched and threw herself back into a standing position, rushing for the kitchen and grabbing any sharp knife her eyes first laid on.

Don stood frozen in fear. Not able to move or barely breathe from the looks of it.

Y/n wasn’t any better herself. Downright terrified. This was her dorm. Her dorm. Which means whoever was outside, was looking for her.

The banging persisted, the person on the other side seemingly determined to get in. This proved correct when the handle started turning whichever way it could. 

She didn’t even realize, terror clouding her senses because when she looked back to her two friends, Don had collapsed into himself, wheezing with little air entering his lungs amidst his panic. Erica was cornered in the kitchen, sobbing, tears flooding her cheeks and ruining her mascara she had in place.

The persistent banging stopped for a second. The faint sound of another pair of footsteps approached from the hallway outside. Muffled talking pursued but it was hard to make anything out, between her pounding heart, Erica’s sobs and the slab of wood in the way, didn’t make for easy hearing.

For Y/n, it seemed there was one second of complete silence. No sobbing, no voices, no distant alarms or explosions, no racing heart, no wheezing lungs. Before chaos sprung onto them.

Suddenly the people outside, because there was another person now, resumed banging on the door. But it didn’t seem like they were ‘just knocking’ anymore. No.

They were trying to break the door down. 

She could see it from the way the door groaned and creaked under the relentless kicking. She couldn't quite tell if they were using their feet, or an object, or whatever. 

All that mattered was that they were trying to get in. And they were going to succeed.

“Move! Hide! We need to hide!” She whisper-yelled. Rushing to Don and tugging on his arm to try and get him to move. He stared at her for a few seconds before his brain caught up, registering what was happening around him. The real danger he was in right now.

“Hide.. Oh god..” He panted, sprinting for the bathroom, the first place his eyes had landed on.

With Don now searching for a place to hide, she ran her way to Erica. Still trying to be as quiet as she could, in the little hopes that they would think she wasn’t here.

“Erica, we need to hide! They’re getting in!” She frantically whispered to her hyperventilating friend. Trying to shake her shoulders, even resorting to lightly slapping her face to try and get her attention. She was desperate.

“Please!” The sound of splintering caught both of their attention. Heads whipping towards the door starting to cave. She wasn’t all that surprised, that slab of wood was a shitty excuse for a door anyway.

Erica suddenly sprung up and dove for the piles of blankets in the living room. Trying to bury herself amongst them, taking the knife with her.

And now that all her friends had been taken care of, she ran for her bedroom. Trying her best not to stumble and fall in the dark hallway. 

As soon as her door came into sight, she gently opened it, gunning for her wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. Not even looking towards the turned off lantern, she didn’t need them knowing her hiding spot from something so obvious. 

It was already messy anyway, so in her frazzled brain she didn’t bother caring where she tossed piles of clothes and shoes in her room.. They’d hopefully think it was like that in the first place.

After quickly clearing a space big enough for her to curl into, she did just that. Situating herself just right, back pressed against the side of the wardrobe, knees tucked to her chest and pressed against the boxes in front of her. She was sitting on old shirts she hadn’t seen for months.

Hearing the door breaking even further, she grabbed any clothes within her reach and threw them over herself. Shutting the door when she was mostly covered, she could have sworn she could hear laughter coming from the hallway.

A loud crash and splintering tore through the air. She knew it was her front door. And now they were inside. 

Her hands slowly went up to cup around her mouth, trying to muffle her breathing as much as she could. Her body froze. Even when she already began to feel muscle cramps settling in, she dared not move. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Every inhale a struggle along with a reminder that she was still alive at this very moment. Even if she was convinced she wouldn’t be for much longer. 

The thought brought tears to her eyes. The original shock wears from her body and settles into something akin to despair. 

Her throat started clamping up, muscles seizing and throbbing with the need to cry. 

It was the thudding of footsteps that shook her out of it. Snapping her half way back into a nightmarish reality. 

She gulped. Closing her eyes and straining her ears for any information they were willing to receive.

Just as she thought. Two pairs of footsteps. 

With every thud of a shoe or a spike in their muffled talking, her body would tremble. 

It remained like this for a few more minutes. The footsteps or talking occasionally pausing. 

It was during one of these silences, where a different sound was heard. She couldn’t identify the exact sounds, just ones of commotion. They were still all muffled. And then she heard muffled yelling. 

It sounded so dulled, between the walls and layers of wood and clothes, she could barely make out anything, her ears straining for any hint as to what was happening. Being left in the dark like this, literally and figuratively, was terrifying her. 

And then this horrible, awful noise carried its way between the cracks in the wardrobe. Crunching. Cracking. Stomps. 

That muffled yelling from before kept getting cut off. Eventually dwindling down into a barely audible groan. Those thuds never seemed to stop either. Never ending, crunching, cracking, and now wet thuds. 

Her brain was trying its hardest to process, to catch up with the information that it has been provided with. 

More footsteps, only one pair, accompanied with muffled laughter. And a more distinct sound traveling through the air. 

A scream.

Even more laughter, hurried footsteps and pleas of ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’ts’. 

It was now, with the wet stomps still in the background, her screeching friend, that eager laugh, that her brain had finally caught up.

She was going to be sick.

They’re hurting them. Killing them.

Her friends.

Her body moved out of its own violation. Shaky hands and feet kicking and pushing their way out of the pile of clothes. Wardrobe door swinging open with a creak.

She collapsed out of it. Slumped on the floor, dry heaving. Her lungs not seeming to take enough air in but yet holding in too much. She couldn’t function. Fear overwhelmed every part of her. As well as grief. 

Her ears were ringing and she was left gasping, drool dripping onto the hard floor beneath her as a result of her attempted vomiting. Eyes wide open, blurry when she tapped back into her mind. 

Tears, clouding her vision and dripping audibly on the floorboards below her. 

In the distance she could hear muffled talking. Two men, she could make out more clearly. Not only that, but squelching, wet, gooey noises seemed to mingle in the air. Gurgling was the next before silence.

A minute passed, maybe two before the footsteps started up again. Those goddamn footsteps. 

1.. 2.

1.. 2.

1.. 2.

But they were slower than before. Steady. Taking their time. 

And getting closer.

Her instincts kick in, blinking profusely to try and clear her eyes from the tears, looking up and darting around before landing on the space under her bed.

She wouldn’t have enough time to fix her spot back in the wardrobe. She couldn’t run past them, not even in her best state which she certainly wasn’t in right now. She had considered her bedroom window as an option, but it was locked, which would take time to open. Not even mentioning the fact she was on the third floor, so jumping out would break at least something important. They would be quick to notice as well, and if they came for her, it was likely they would decide to chase her down.

Under her bed seemed to be her best option at the moment, and she was running out of time. Scrambling as quietly as she could, she slid herself directly under her bed, trying to center herself in the middle of it, tucking herself into a tight ball.

The footsteps stopped right outside her bedroom door, she had enough sense to shut it on her way in, thank god. But that clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop them. 

Almost as if the person was teasing her, they slowly clicked the door open. The distinct creak she had grown accustomed to over the months making itself known. 

Her muscles are tense, tightening in the presence of her predators. 

In the dark space from under her bed and in her room, it was obvious when the light from inside the hallway started spilling in the more the door got pushed open. In the vague depths of her mind it registered that they must’ve either turned the hall lights on, had taken one of her lanterns,  or were carrying one of their own.

Her lungs were burning with the effort to keep her body running with the little air she was allowing them to have, all for the sake of trying to keep quiet.

It was all too silent once again, only for a second or two before the second pair of footsteps came towards her. A lot more hasty compared to the other ones. 

Her breath silently hitched, the new person pushed their way into the room, stepping past their company before a thunk was heard. The sound forced her body to startle, jolting her muscles and kick starting her trembling again. An uncontrollable reaction to the fear she was under, the unrelenting motions causing a deep ache in her ribs.

The sound of rustling was now heard. It seemed they were looking for something. ‘They’re going to kill me. They’re digging around for a weapon to stab me with, to bash my head in, to murder me like they did my friends. I’m dead. I’m dead, I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead-’

Her racing thoughts consuming her fear riddled mind failed in picking up the sound of the other pair of footsteps slowly creeping round to the end of her bed. 

The person paused, silently crouching down low before a pair of hands reached under.

The sudden tight grip on her ankles followed up by the sudden pull had her screeching. Pure terror flooding her veins. She had been yanked out from under her bed, lying sprawled on the floor and gazing up at the towering man stationed above her. 

Her lungs burned, seizing up before a sickening scream escaped her. Fuelled by genuine, unrestrained horror. 

They had found her.

One of her lanterns they had brought in illuminated his face in a haunting light. The darkened shadows stretching and contorting behind him to create the most grim image for her mind to paint. Not that it was far off.

A foot standing on either side of her hips, straddling her if it wasn’t for his standing position. Hands nestled comfortably back in his trouser pockets now they had done the job of retrieving her. A comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt adorned his figure. Dark splatters starting from the bottom of his shoes and creeping their way up his legs, tapering off into a few spots that painted one of his cheeks.

An easy smile softly ingrained on his face, followed by gentle looking eyes peering down at her if it wasn’t for the malicious spiral she found herself paralyzed in. Dark locks of hair extended down his back, past where she could see from her position, with the top layers sectioned off and tied back into a bun.

His mouth opened and he spoke. “Well, well. Look what I’ve caught for us Satoru.”

Satoru. The other man must be Satoru Gojo, and this was Suguru. Suguru Geto. The most popular guys she knew, the supposedly kindest. And then staring in the library, the walk back from the shops, the gossip her most likely dead friend had told her.

Her body suddenly felt like it was pumped full of adrenaline. Pushing herself up as fast as she could, using the bed as support all the while stumbling over her numb riddled legs. She took off, running towards the open door she so desperately wanted to pass through. 

A sudden arm snatched her from around her waist and she screeched. Pure instinct driving her at this point as she scratched and kicked and flailed in his, Satoru Gojo’s, hold.

The sound of something dropping before his other arm came round, collecting both her wrists in one hand of his. His grip tightened the more she fought. Her body pressed tight against his, her back to his front. His head situated itself on her shoulder, tucking over and pressing his cheek to hers even while she cried and panted and kicked.

She could feel his grin pressing against the side of her face. “Such a pretty little thing we have here. Can’t let her get away so easily now, can we? Not after all the trouble we’ve gone through.” The last part practically whispered into her ear as she turned her face as far away as possible from him. 

A little laugh boasted out from Geto. “Of course not.” He strolled over to them, bending down to pick up what Gojo had dropped in order to restrain her.

Rope.

Fucking rope.

The moment her eyes zoned in and processed what Geto was unravelling in his hands she tried to fight back even harder. Eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Short mumblings of ‘no’ being repeated over and over while becoming louder until she was yelling. 

“Please don’t do this! Let me go! Please, please.. Stop!” She shrieked while sobbing, convinced they were going to kill her or torture her or something horrible like that.

Gojo walked the two of them to the edge of her bed before forcefully pushing her down, manhandling her onto her front and bending her arms to rest pressing against her back.  

She sobbed into her ruffled sheets as she felt Geto fastening the rope tight around her wrists, the rough material digging into and pinching the sensitive skin. Raw and red marks already forming amidst her struggle. 

Her legs still hung off the bed, trying their best to kick and hopefully injure one or both of them, but she knew it was a losing battle. None of her landing blows made them falter in any way.

When her wrists were successfully restrained Geto kept them pressed to the small of her back while Gojo let go and reached down to grab her ankles. Pulling them up and bending her legs at the knees while they both worked in finishing the task of tying her up.

When they finally stepped back to admire the work they’d successfully done, Y/n deflated. Tears soaking into her bed in which she rested on top of. Her lungs still burned, having never stopped. The hogtied position she had been forced into leaving her nothing to work with in terms of escaping. Not that she could think clearly anyway. The distress she was under proved too much.

“Oh, Shh Sh Sh… There, there, sweet thing. Settle down for us now. We aren’t going to kill you.” Cooed, who she could only guess right now was Gojo.

Geto reached forward from his position of kneeling on the bed, gentle soothing pets stroking her hair. Her sobbing tapering off into hiccupped breathing even while flinching with every touch. “There you go, good girl. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He pulled away from her, stepping down off the bed and heading towards the previously discarded bag on the floor Y/n hadn’t noticed before..

Y/n slowly turned her head round, no longer pressed into her sheets. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. Little hiccups and groans left her while her lungs tried to recover. She’d given up struggling right now, it had done nothing but cause her pain as the rope dug and squeezed the skin of her wrists and ankles. 

Gojo piped up from behind her, only now feeling the heat from his legs pressing into hers causing her to flinch. “You know, this would’ve gone a whole lot easier if you had just let us in sweetheart.” She could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “Look at where you are now, tied up all pretty for us. Ripe for the taking.” He pressed closer to her at that, voice practically dripping with need. 

She whined in fear and started squirming at his words. Panic flooding her senses again for just a second before a sharp tug to her hair had her yelping, halting her movements.

“I thought I told you to quit that.” Geto was back to kneeling on the bed in front of her, his hand gripping tight onto her hair, eyes narrowed. 

Her bottom lip trembled, breaths picking up with every second he glared down at her. 

“Don’t be so mean, Sugu.” Gojo said, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

Geto glanced back at him before humming and letting go of his harsh grip, her scalp burning in turn. “I suppose you’re right. She’ll have plenty of time to learn when we take her back home.”

Gojo hummed and she felt him leaning away from her, hearing him crouch down and fiddle with something from the bag as well. 

“Back home?..” She stuttered, voice hoarse and throat dry.

Geto looked back down at her, amusement painting his face. “Yes. Home.”

“Where..” She started, face formed in a twist of concern and confusion. “Please.. I.. Just let me go. I won’t- I won’t tell anyone, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I’ll do anything, please..” She gasped out, tears gathered freshly in her eyes again, voice cracking every few seconds. 

An amused eyebrow raised with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth was all she got as a response. 

Gojo had come back, reaching round and fastening a strip of duct tape around her mouth in a sudden flurry of movement. Giving her no time to process what he had done until after he had done it. 

She cried out, the sound muffled thanks to the tape, worried eyes darting around in panic as she tried squirming again for the third time. 

Gojo pressed up behind her once again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet pea! You’re ours now. We’ve had you picked out for a long time now.” The joy in his voice didn’t fail to put her on edge, his words doing their part in helping the tears gathered in her waterline to finally spill down her cheeks. Wetting the tape situated over her lips.

“He’s right.” Geto replied. Bringing one of his hands up to show what he had collected from the bag a few moments ago. The mobile phone in his hands glowed brightly in the dark room, the lamp from before having been moved, the light now dim.

“We’ll bring you back with us soon enough, but we still have a few more hours to kill before that. And why waste them.” Gojo said, the grin in his voice unsettling her, keeping her frozen in fear.

An easy smile pulled at Geto’s cheeks at that, head tilting to the side to gaze down at their pretty prey. 

“Well what are you waiting for then, Satoru?”

A pause. Smile pulling into a predatory grin.

“Have at it.”

[the-winter-spider]

The View Between Villages | Part Seven

Word count: 3.2k

Pairings: Bucky x reader, TASM!Peter x reader

A/N: promise ill put this fic on my masterlist eventually lol

Masterlist

—-

“Bucky told me he came by,” Sam said, his voice hesitant, waiting for any sign of acknowledgement. When none came, he sighed, feeling a bit foolish talking to a door. He closed his eyes, pretending you were right there in front of him. “Y/N, I know you’re hurting. I can’t help you, or even try to understand what you’re feeling, unless you let me in. We’ve dealt with loss, and it hurts. I get that—I really do. But we need to carry on for them, to pave the path for the future.”

You lay on the couch, your eyes fixed on the ceiling fan as it spun endlessly. It had been six weeks since Bucky stopped by. He hadn’t called, he hadn’t texted. You were almost certain this was Sam’s last attempt to coax you out, but the truth was, he wasn’t Natasha, he wasn’t Steve, he wasn’t Tony. And you weren’t even yourself anymore.

You wanted to try for Sam. He was good, so full of light and warmth, and he made talking seem easy. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him—because if you did, everything would spill out, and you had no idea what would happen after that. Maybe Sally, the news anchor, was right. You were unpredictable, unsteady, and not safe to be around. You didn’t even want to be around yourself.

“I’m not sure how much news you’ve been keeping up with, but a lot has happened,” Sam continued, his voice softening. “Bucky and I are going to be working together again. Who knows? We might even become friends. He’s going to help me with our family boat—we could use your help, too. Not just with the boat, but to keep us from killing each other,” he added with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll text you where we’ll be. Call me anytime, Y/N. Take care of yourself.”

You heard the floor creak as he turned to leave. In your mind, you tried to picture Sam standing there, but the image was fuzzy. You couldn’t quite remember what he looked like anymore, just like you couldn’t clearly remember any of them. Their faces, their voices—all of it was fading away, burning memories fraying at the edges. You knew you’d forget the sound of his voice soon, just as you had forgotten the others.

Sam paused at the door, almost as if he was debating whether to say something else. Finally, he added, “Oh, I almost forgot… we got the shield back.”

The words hung in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the weight they all carried. But it wasn’t enough to lift you from the darkness that had taken root inside. You heard the door click shut, and then you were alone again, the silence pressing down like a suffocating blanket.

You turned your head slightly, staring at the phone lying on the coffee table. Sam’s text would come through eventually, and maybe you’d read it. Maybe you’d even respond. But not today. Today, the fan kept spinning, and so did the endless loop of memories that you wished you could forget.

—-

Statue of Liberty

“Are you guys almost done?” you shouted over the wind, your voice barely carrying over the clanging of metal and the distant sounds of the city below.

“Yeah, just placing the last one,” Peter 1 called back.

“Cool, cool,” you muttered, leaning over the scaffolding as Peter 1 jumped down, perching effortlessly beside you. Peter 2 and Peter 3 landed gracefully on either side of you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.

You turned to face Peter 1, your universe’s Peter. “Y’know, I don’t think Steve would’ve liked this,” you said, gesturing to the construction of the shield on the Statue of Liberty.

Peter 1 smiled, a bit sheepishly. “It really is a big honour.”

Peter 2 chimed in, “This guy must have really been something for them to do all this.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of your grief pressing against your chest. You missed Steve more than you allowed yourself to admit. It still hurt—the way you never said goodbye, the way you couldn’t bring yourself to face him after he returned—an old man, having lived a life you could only dream of. The jealousy that bubbled inside you felt like poison, and you hated yourself for feeling it. Steve had been your hero, your friend, and it hurt to think that you weren’t there for him when he needed you most.

“He really was,” you whispered, your voice thick with unshed tears.

Peter 3 placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle and reassuring. “You all are, honestly,” he said with a small smile. “Ever since I got here, all I keep seeing and hearing about are these amazing heroes. I just wish my universe had more of them.”

You managed a soft smile, looking up at him. “They have you, Parker. That’s all they need, and you are pretty amazing.”

“Yeah,” Peter 2 agreed, beaming at Peter 3. “Why are you so hard on yourself? You’re the amazing Spider-Man!”

Peter 3 shrugged, trying to play it off, but you could see the doubt lingering in his eyes. “It’s just… you guys all fight such cool villains, and I just have a lizard. I wonder if my universe has aliens.”

“Probably does,” Peter 1 said, laughing a little. “They all have to, right? But maybe they just haven’t been provoked yet.”

“What do you mean?” Peter 3 asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Like… there are so many superheroes here,” Peter 1 explained, pulling out his phone. “Mr. Stark once told me it shows life outside of Earth that we’re ready for a fight, so maybe that’s why we get all the crazy stuff.” He paused, frowning at his phone. “It’s an unknown number.” He hesitated for a moment before bringing it to his ear. “Um, hello?”

Peter 3 raised an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Think one of the villains got a phone?”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “It’s a necessity nowadays; I wouldn’t doubt it.”

Peter 1’s expression shifted, his eyes locking onto yours. “Yeah, she’s here,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a cold chill running down your spine. “Who is it?” you asked, even though deep down, you already knew.

Peter 1 gave you a sympathetic look, holding out the phone. “Sergeant Barnes.”

All the colour drained from your face, your hands trembling slightly as you took the phone from him. “Oh,” was all you could manage.

“I can tell him you’re busy,” Peter 1 offered, reaching for the phone, but you shook your head.

“No, I… I’ll take it.” You stepped back, bumping into Peter 3, who steadied you with a gentle grip on your shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft, his brown eyes filled with concern.

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if you were convincing either of you. Turning away from the group, you moved further down the catwalk, trying to put some distance between yourself and the others so they wouldn’t overhear your conversation. But their voices still echoed faintly in the background, Peter 2’s curious question reaching your ears: “Who’s Sergeant Barnes?”

You took a deep breath, pacing back and forth as you held the phone to your ear. Your thoughts raced, your emotions teetering on the edge of control. You remembered Tony’s breathing techniques, forcing yourself to inhale slowly, exhale just as slowly, trying to keep everything from spiralling out of control. You pinched the bridge of your nose, fighting the urge to scream, cry, or just… disappear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” Relief washed over Bucky’s voice, but there was an edge to it. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, we saw you on TV with the Spider kid… Now I’m hearing about bad guys showing up. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Bucky. We have everything under control.”

He scoffed. “What, you and that kid? And you’re bringing the fight to the Statue of Liberty? Are you serious?”

“It’s not just me and Peter, we have other help.” You were trying to stay calm, saving your energy for the real fight.

He sighed, frustration evident. “I know, Y/N.”

“Know what?”

“About the night of Steve’s funeral.”

Your mouth went dry. It felt like you were swallowing cotton. “Which funeral?”

“Doll,” he pleaded softly, not wanting to say it out loud.

“Don’t.” You shook your head, voice trembling.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve—”

“You would have what, Bucky? Stayed with me out of pity? Afraid I’d do it again? You said it yourself, we’re not the same people anymore.”

“I still love you. I’ll always love you, Y/N. I just needed time to figure out who I was, but—”

“What about what I needed?” you yelled, cutting him off. “What about me? I lost Steve too, I lost time too, I—I lost everything… I needed you, Bucky!”

“I’m right here, doll. I’ve always been here. You could’ve called me whenever, and you know I would have come running.”

“But you weren’t there. You were supposed to be there.”

You could hear his heavy breathing through the phone, and you were sure his brow was furrowed. “I’m right here, please, sweetheart, just talk to me, I-i miss you.

“You’ve been doing fine for the last six months.”

“How do you know that? You aren't here!”

“You left me, Buck. Remember? And you were right to.”

“I was right?”

You felt the air around you hum with electricity; they were close. “We’re just not who we were anymore… You made that pretty clear because my Steve and my Bucky would have never hurt me the way you two did. Never.” You wiped away a tear, the pain in your chest intensifying as you said the words you’d been avoiding for so long.

There was a long pause on the other end, and when Bucky finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “I never meant to hurt you, I thought I was protecting you.”

“By leaving me alone? By making me feel like I was the only one who couldn’t move on?”

“I couldn’t move on either,” he confessed, the rawness in his voice cutting through your defences. “But I didn’t know how to stay and not drag you down with me.”

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. “You didn’t have to do it alone, Bucky. You didn’t have to shut me out.”

“I know that now,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “But back then… I didn’t. And I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

For a moment, you couldn’t respond. The words hung between you, heavy with all the things left unsaid. But there was no time to dwell on it—not now, not with the fight looming ahead.

“I have to go,” you said finally, your voice tight with emotion. “They’re here.”

“Be careful,” Bucky pleaded, the desperation in his voice evident. “Please, just… come back to me, please don't do anything stupid, Sam and me, were on our way there, I'm gonna be there this time… please doll, i love you”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of everything you were carrying, focusing on your breathing and turning back towards the group. You took a minute to yourself, just taking the moment to observe them, the calm before the storm. Your Peter was perched up top, while the eldest stood by, and the Peter you were willing to risk it all for leaned against the railing, his mask in hand. He was smiling from ear to ear, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Almost as if he could feel you staring, he turned to you, giving you the kindest smile before offering a small wave, which you returned.. “I love you.” You tore your gaze away from the Spider-Men, looking out over the edge. “I’m not sure I can ever love anyone the way I love you... But I can’t do that here, not when every corner I turn reminds me of everything, everyone I’ve lost.”

“What do you mean, here? Y/N, what are you going to do?” Panic laced his voice. He knew you had powerful abilities, but he didn’t fully understand them. You were still learning about them when he was in the safe house before Wakanda, but he knew enough to be scared of what you might do.

“James, I’m going to be okay…everything’s going to be okay.”

“Y/N, answer me.”

“I love you Bucky, god i love you so much” You clicked the phone shut.

You walked back over to the boys. “Thanks, Pete,” you smiled, tossing his phone back to him.

“You okay?” Peter 3 asked, concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You mustered the best smile you could, but the way Peter 3’s eyes searched yours told you he could see right through it. That stung—someone you just met could see you weren’t okay, but Steve and Bucky couldn’t? Or maybe they could and just didn’t care. You quickly pushed those thoughts away, refocusing on the task at hand. “Are we ready to kick some ass?”

A series of nods followed. “Good, because they’re here.”

“How do you—” Peter 1 perched up. “You guys feel that?”

“Yeah,” Peter 2 nodded. “How did you know before us?”

“I’m one with everything, and all that hippie stuff.” You shrugged it off, activating your suit. The nanobots covered you from head to toe, transforming from an inky black to a colorless white, your eyes glowing with a cold intensity. The sky began to crackle, lightning flashing throughout.

“Y/N?” Your Peter questioned.

“Not me.”

All three men put their masks on, everyone fully alert. A man appeared, his arms crackling with electricity. “Sup, Pete? You like the new look?”

“Oh well, that’s pretty cool,” you said to no one in particular.

“Who’s this?” Electro turned his attention to you. “Look, I don’t wanna hurt a lady. Just give me the box, and everything will be fine.”

“I wouldn’t be too worried about hurting Y/N,” Peter 1 said. “She’s pretty badass.”

“Is that a challenge?” Electro smirked.

“Nope, no, no, Max, it’s definitely not a challenge,” Peter 3 said, trying to step in front of you. But it was too late—Electro sent a massive bolt of electricity surging toward you.

Without flinching, you caught the energy mid-air, the force of it pushing you back slightly. You held the electricity in your hand, feeling the raw power surging through you. A glowing line formed between you and Electro, the air around you crackling with tension. Your eyes glowed brighter as you lifted off the ground, hovering a few feet above the scaffolding.

“Oh shit,” Electro muttered, eyes wide.

“You know,” you began, your voice echoing with power, “that thing on your chest was designed by a very dear friend of mine. He wouldn’t like this—being on the wrong side of the fight and all. So I’m gonna have to do something about it.”

With a flick of your wrist, you sent the energy back toward Electro, forcing him to his knees. The arc reactor on his chest pulsed wildly as it tried to compensate for the overwhelming power you were feeding it.

“Any day now, Parker!” you shouted through gritted teeth, struggling to keep the feedback loop stable.

Peter 3 snapped out of his stupor and rushed forward, yanking the arc reactor off Electro’s chest and slapping the cure onto him. Electro collapsed, the energy dissipating in a burst of sparks. You slowly lowered him onto the scaffolding as Peter 3 knelt beside him, checking for any lingering signs of danger.

You dropped to the ground, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. “We need to find Peter!” you said, already moving. You passed Peter 2 as he successfully cured Sandman, the grains of sand swirling around him before settling into a calm pile.

As you rounded a corner, you collided with something—or someone—solid. Stumbling back, you looked up to see Doctor Strange standing before you.

“Y/N?”

“Strange.”

“You’re alive.”

“You thought I wasn’t?”

“I stopped hearing from you. Logically, I assumed the worst.” His eyes narrowed as he studied you. “Please tell me you’re not helping the kid.”

“We’re curing them. It’s working if that’s what you’re asking.”

He ignored your comment. “Your eyes are glowing.”

“It’s a new thing. Just started happening, I guess.” You shrugged.

He nodded, a calculating look in his eyes. “You’re unlocking it.”

“Unlocking what?”

“Everything. Your full potential.” He stared at you for a moment, almost as if he were reading your every thought. “Tread lightly, Y/N,” he warned before opening another portal.

You followed him, knowing exactly who he was going to. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means—”

“Pete, watch out!” you screamed as you saw the Lizard tackle Peter, your Peter, sinking his claws deep into his abdomen.

Strange quickly whipped out an Eldritch Whip to restrain the Lizard as the other two Spider-Men rushed in to cure Doctor Connors. You shakily knelt beside your Peter, who was gasping for breath, his suit torn and blood seeping out.

“Oh, Pete.” Tears welled in your eyes, guilt clawing at you as you applied pressure to the wound. “I’m so sorry.”

His hand weakly covered yours, his eyes filled with pain but also a reassuring warmth. “Don’t… apologize, Y/N. It’s not… your fault.” His breath hitched, and he tried to smile. “I know… what you’re—”

You shook your head, determined. “I’m going to fix this.”

“This is too much, Y/N. It’ll—” His voice faltered as he coughed, blood staining his lips. “It’ll take you out… if not worse.”

Your vision tunneled, focusing solely on Peter as you ignored the chaos around you. You weren’t aware of the hand on your shoulder or the shouts of the other Spider-Men. You placed both hands over Peter’s wound, your eyes glowing brighter as you began to pour every ounce of energy you had left into healing him.

“Get her off of me! This could kill her!” Peter 1 shouted, his voice desperate.

Peter 3 tried to pull you back, but you thrust out your left hand, mumbling a weak “Sorry” before blasting him away, a forcefield-like bubble forming around you and Peter. The bubble hummed with power, blocking out all outside interference. You vaguely saw Strange on the other side, using everything he had to break through.

“Y/N, please stop,” Peter begged, his voice breaking.

But you pushed on, one wound down, two more to go. The energy around you flickered, your vision pulsating between reality and darkness. You were fading fast, but you couldn’t stop, not when Peter needed you. You continued to channel everything into him until his vitals stabilized, the wound fully closed.

Just as you began to collapse, a bone-chilling voice echoed through the sky.

“Can the Spider-Man come out to play?!”

Peter shoved you out of the way just as the Goblin hurled a barrage of pumpkin bombs at the scaffolding. The force of the explosion sent you tumbling off the edge, the world spinning around you as darkness closed in. The last thing you saw was Strange struggling to keep the Goblin at bay, and the last thing you heard was someone screaming your name as you plummeted into the void.

[mumms-the-word]

Dark Future, Dark Reality

Part 2

Characters: Solas x fem!Lavellan, Varric Tethras, Dorian Pavus, Leliana Summary: When Iren Lavellan is cast into the future via Alexius's spell, she wants to believe everything is just a temporary nightmare. But as she encounters and speaks with Solas, the details of the dark future become all too real to her and she struggles with how much the future has changed her friend. Solas is not the man she has grown to care for in their travels up to this point. Torn between longing for the man she left behind and the man she must leave behind soon, she fights her way through Redcliffe Castle, wrestling with guilt, fear, and a desire to save a man who refuses to be saved. A/N: Part 2 of the solavellan hell that is this 9k fic about Solas and my Inquisitor during In Hushed Whispers. Part 1 is here but whole thing can be read on AO3 here!

Demons. Venatori. Death upon death. Redcliffe Castle crawled with enemies both living and demonic, but to Iren, every enemy was a faceless nightmare that had to be destroyed. This future was real, and these soldiers and mages, these demons, had to pay for all the suffering they had wrought. Upon the world, upon her friends, upon her.

But when the fighting was done, just before they unlocked the sealed door to the throne room where Alexius awaited beyond, she felt no victory or satisfaction. Only a cold hollow feeling as though she were still set adrift, with only the slightest push necessary to send her tumbling up into the sky. A bit of meaningless ash that would crumble away into nothing.

She had promised to succeed. But what if she failed? What if she were trapped here in this world?

The thought sent the world spinning again, and once more she buried it and tried to distract her mind with positive promises instead. She would succeed. They would get back to their time. They would stop the Elder One. She had to believe it, or she would go mad.

In the quiet lull of time during which Dorian studied the red shards required to open the door and puzzled out how to use them to break the seal, Iren found herself by Solas’s side once more, silent and pensive. The fighting of the last hour had taken its toll on them both, but whereas she was able to use a bit of rest to restore her, the rest seemed to do little for him. He leaned back now against a broken pillar, his legs locked to keep him upright. Both hands were wrapped around his staff, the end planted firmly between his feet, and he kept his eyes closed and his breathing even, as if in meditation. To an untrained eye, he might seem unaffected by the fighting. But Iren had spent too much of her life searching for signs of illness, weakness, and injury in stubborn hunters and stoic matrons to believe his outward display of calm.

He was at the end of his strength. Faltering, forcing himself forward, each fight draining more and more of what little of him remained. And yet he fought on, often just a few steps away from where she stood in the battles. Her barriers kept most of the blows off of him, but that was all he would let her do to help him. Yet he bore his pain and fatigue without comment. Even when his steps began to drag, he never once complained.

She wondered if it was because she, out of all of them, was their healer. And she, out of all of them, was the one they couldn’t afford to infect with red lyrium or blighted corruption. Even Varric had kept a few paces apart, after Solas quietly spoke to him between battles. She understood the necessity, but it didn’t help the strange loneliness that had haunted her ever since they landed in this cursed future. These were supposed to be her friends. But in this world, they were half strangers.

She hated it. Varric, at least, fabricated familiarity that was as good as their real friendship back in her world. Solas didn’t bother to try.

She couldn’t stand his silence. His coldness. She had only known him a few brief weeks before they had invaded Redcliffe Castle together, before she was thrown a year into the future, a future he was forced to suffer every day, every hour, every moment of. But in that brief time together, she had been drawn to his enchanting voice, spinning stories with threads of silver and gold, each word like a wisp of magic. She had gravitated toward him, another elven apostate in an organization that didn’t quite know what to make of them. Some days, it had felt as though he were the only one making sense in the world. The only one who regarded her mark as a magical anomaly, a rare bit of unknown magic, rather than a divine gift handed down by some distant and unfeeling god.

They had bonded over sketches and art, charcoal lines on pages of field journals and discarded letters. His first praise of the embroidery she had added to her Inquisition-issued tunic still warmed her face. She’d told him of her silly wish for a full-sized loom, should their work slow enough in Haven to allow her the time to weave again. He’d chuckled and said the very idea was “charmingly domestic.”

He had a subtle humor, a sharp wit, and a habit of suppressing his laughter even when it was clear something amused him. When it got the better of him, in rare moments of juvenile amusement, his quick and fleeting grin and his laugh had never failed to make her smile too. He spent so much time trying to be serious and mysterious that each moment of levity felt like a sparkle of diamond inside a shadowed cave. Fleeting and rare and oh so precious.

But they had fought, too, trading barbs over Dalish customs that had glanced off each other with no real harm done. She’d glared at him when he hinted that her work to provide aid for the refugees of the Hinterlands was, perhaps, getting in the way of progress with the Breach. He had relented with a press of his lips and a muttered phrase in elven that she assumed meant stubborn ass. On another day, he’d smirked, smug, when he recalled the name and medicinal properties of a common herb that had escaped her mind during a conversation with a local healer. She had mockingly called him hahren when she thanked him. He’d parried it with a cut of his eyes and a quipped da’len, and then chuckled when she grimaced at the moniker.

The healer had glanced between them curiously and nodded to herself. At the time, Iren had tried to ignore her assumptions about the two of them. Now though, separated from him by hundreds of days and a broken future…it seemed foolish that she hadn’t acted sooner. Gauged Solas’s returning interest sooner.

After all, she thought to herself, smiling slightly, she couldn’t deny a certain attraction. Not now that she had lost him, however temporarily.

There was so much she didn’t yet know about him. So much she wanted to know. She had never been one for mysteries, preferring tangible action and practical knowledge over philosophy and conjecture, but something about Solas drew her in and made her want to linger, explore, learn, get lost. Plumbing the depths of his knowledge and experiences, just to learn who he was, would be the task of a lifetime. Daunting, but appealing, as it brought her every day closer to the man with a hidden mischievous glint in his eyes and more wisdom than she could ever hope to retain.

That was the Solas she had lost in this world. And the more she thought about him, the more she missed him. The more her heart, foolish as it was, longed for him.

She looked over at the Solas of this world, still leaning back against a column with his eyes shut. He may not be that Solas—her Solas—in his entirety, but neither was he a complete stranger. She couldn’t stand his silence any more than she could have stood silence from the man she knew in her world.

She cleared her throat gently. “Solas,” she said softly. “I…apologize for earlier. For how much I pushed for answers from you. I know it must feel as though I abandoned you to this fate. And then for me to show up and demand answers, no matter how painful…you have every right to be angry with me.”

He opened his eyes. “I am not angry.”

She cast him a disbelieving look, but he seemed sincere. Tired, but not false, and no longer as tense as before. “But you were angry before. With me, at least.”

He looked down at his feet thoughtfully. “Hmm. It was, perhaps, less anger and more…caution. Your arrival was unexpected, but fortuitous. Almost too fortuitous. For a time, you seemed as unreal to me as I must have seemed to you. Like a dream made reality.”

Dream. The word snagged on her mind, a thread she was too curious to resist following. “You thought I was a dream?”

“It was a figure of speech,” he said. “Though with the Veil no longer there to keep dreams set apart from reality…”

“I’m as real as you are, Solas.” Again she resisted the urge to touch him, brush her fingers against his arm, his shoulder, something, just to prove her words. “You saw that yourself when I first found you. No spirit, no illusion. Just me.”

“I know.” He sighed, leaning his head back briefly against the pillar. “Still…when one spends a year believing one reality, only to face another…you can understand my caution.”

She could. Easily.

Quiet, they watched Dorian as he sorted through the red crystal charms in his palm, slotting them carefully into a pattern on the door that Iren couldn’t see from this distance. Across the way, Leliana stood alert, bow and arrow ready but relaxed, while Varric sat on an old abandoned bench nearby, absently polishing part of his crossbow, Bianca. The rest of the hall was eerily empty, the old iron chandeliers swaying gently as they hung from the beams that had survived the chaos. Most of the roof had been torn away, leaving the center of the hall open to the swirling sky. Occasionally a loose brick would drift slowly upward, drawn by the power of the Breach.

If she were forced to stay, how long would it take before the whole world unraveled?

“I did dream of you,” Solas said after a moment, his voice little more than a breath. “Back when dreams were still possible.”

She glanced over, surprised. He seemed lost in his thoughts, or perhaps his memories, his eyes distant the way they often became when he recalled the past. She knew the answer to her question before she even asked it, but even so, she tried to keep her voice light and amused as she asked, “Pleasant dreams, I hope?”

Another flicker of a smile, there and gone in a second. “Some. But not most.” He raised his gaze upward, toward the sky beyond the remnants of the hall’s roof. “Often it was the same memory, recast in different shades.”

“The day I died,” she guessed quietly. He nodded.

“It weighed heavily on my mind, so of course there were spirits eager to reenact it. More than once, I watched as you were ripped to shreds. The hero of this age reduced to ash from a magic I could do nothing against. Our sole hope against the rifts, gone in an instant. A friend—”

He cut himself off again, turning his head away. For several heartbeats, there was nothing except for the distant click of crystal charms being pressed into place in the stone door and the dull roars of some distant demon prowling the nearby courtyards. The rest of the room was still.

“Solas?” Iren whispered.

“I…mourned you,” he whispered, his voice breaking faintly. He almost sounded surprised, as though he had just now come to this conclusion himself. Her eyes widened. It was only three words, but in those words was a year’s worth of grief, sorrow, and regret. She had never seen him so vulnerable before. Deep down, she suspected she never would again.

Even as she thought it, he took a deep breath, steadying himself and standing, once more folding that weakest part of himself away. “And then,” he said, “when that changed nothing, I focused my efforts on finding a way to stop this Elder One. Clearly I failed.” He gestured to the world around them, the broken hall barely held together with scaffolding and barricades, the roof torn open to the sky, as though the room itself was his proof.

“You didn’t fail,” she said, drawing closer to him. “You survived. You endured. You’re standing here today alive and that means….everything.”

She took a chance, reaching through the distance between them to wrap her hand around the cold metal of his staff, a few inches above where his own hand rested. She wasn’t touching him, but she was close. As close as he would let her get.

“Everything you’ve done matters,” she said softly, holding his gaze so that he could see her sincerity. “I won’t let any of it be in vain. I will carry it with me and use it to save this world from the Elder One. And I will succeed because of you.” She paused and added even more quietly, “I would never be able to do any of this without you.”

He stared at her for several heartbeats before he eventually smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I think you overestimate my importance in all of this. You are the one who will change this world. Not I.”

“If I change this world, it’s only because you were stubborn enough to stick around until I could get here,” she countered with a coy little smile. He allowed himself one more ghost of a smile and even a soft chuckle. She felt the tension in her shoulders relax at that little hint of his old humor, and she softened her smile. “Thank you, Solas. I mean it. I swear I will use the knowledge and wisdom you have given me well. I just wish you could be there to see it.”

“I trust that you will. And as for me…” He tilted his head knowingly, an old familiar glint of cleverness shining through beneath the red lyrium glow. “I believe you have your own Solas to witness your great wisdom.”

“Aha!” Dorian’s voice called through the hall. “I have it. Wily bastard was using an ancient Tevinter—oh, never mind, just be ready. I’ll have this door open in a moment.”

Iren reluctantly let go of Solas’s staff and took a step back. There was so much more she wanted to say. To ask. To do. Strange as it was, she almost didn’t want to leave yet. Not if it meant leaving behind Solas.

But she had to.

“This is it, I suppose,” she said. “Are you ready?”

“I am. Iren…” He paused and then lowered his head slightly, leveling a quiet stare on her. “Whatever happens next, my life is yours. I will see to it that you succeed, no matter the cost.”

A shiver ran down her spine as the weight and seriousness of his promise draped over her like a cloak. She nodded. There would be no arguing. Not this time.

“When I get back,” she said, a thought occurring to her, “is there anything you want me to tell you—the you from a year ago? The Solas from my time?

The idea seemed to amuse him. “No. I know him all too well. Anything I have to say, he would not be willing to hear. You, however…” This time his smile, though subtle, was genuine and soft, almost tender. “You have always been persuasive.”

The words conjured a flush in her cheeks that she hadn’t anticipated. Something about the way he shaped the words, the expression on his face…warmth crept through her core, burning like a gentle ember in her chest. She opened her mouth to respond, not sure what she should say—

“Success!” Dorian called again, and the two of them tore their eyes away from each other to focus on the door as runes on it lit up with a red-colored glow, turning and aligning to form new runes. Dorian took several steps back to allow the doors to swing slowly open of their own accord. “Ready yourselves, my friends. We battle for the future of Thedas.”

Iren tightened her grip on her own staff, moving to stand beside Dorian. At the end of the hall, she could already see the scarlet-clad figure of Alexius waiting for them, illuminated by firelight. This was it, the final fight.

For the future of Thedas.

—————

The chill of Haven seemed as nothing compared to the cold of that dark future. Iren doubted she would ever truly shake the chill of that experience from her bones. But here, the cold was softer, blankets of snow and light flurries of snowflakes drifting down from where the wind blew them loose from the mountainsides. She could breathe here. The world made sense here. All was set to rights again…more or less.

And even now, that dark future was already starting to feel like a dream or a distant memory.

She stared up at the Breach, the smaller Breach, a mere hole in the sky that was thus far contained to a singular spot in the heavens, and forced herself to remember. Not just their trek through the dungeons. Not just the battles with demons or Venatori. Not just the conversations with Solas, with the others. But the hard stuff too.

The alarm and fear in her friends’ eyes when, after Alexius was defeated, the whole room shook with the force of something drawing near. The way Solas and Varric had turned to each other and shared a solemn nod, determined to fight until their dying breaths. For her. Agreeing without a single word. The way they had left the room together, sealing the great stone doors behind them.

The way the demons had tossed their broken, lifeless bodies into the throne room as they burst through not yet an hour later.

“There you are.”

Blinking away the memories, she turned to see Solas joining her on the hillside. From her vantage point here, she could see the whole of Haven, the frozen lake below, the Breach above, and the surrounding mountainsides. It was a decent place to be alone, while staying within eyesight of practically everything. A good place to think, without disappearing entirely.

He offered her a polite smile as he stopped near her, clasping his hands behind his back. “I had wondered where the great liberator of the mages had gone off to. I am unsurprised to find you eager to escape all the talk in Haven. So many foolish opinions, gathered in one place.”

“It’s just talk,” she said, turning to look back at the Breach again. “Besides, we need them.”

“So we do.” He paused. She could feel his gaze on her, but she continued to study the hole in the sky. “You have been…quiet since returning from Redcliffe Castle. Is your mind still on that future you glimpsed?”

Something about the way he asked his question rubbed her the wrong way. She frowned at him. “I didn’t just glimpse it, Solas. I was there. I lived it, for several hours at least.”

“So it was true time travel, then? No illusions, no trick of the Fade?”

“No. Trust me, I’d know a Fade illusion from reality.” Although that dark future had been so twisted and mixed up in both…she folded her arms, partly to keep herself from shivering.

Solas didn’t seem to notice. “What an amazing gift,” he mused. “Not many could say they have traveled through time. Almost none, in fact.”

She shook her head. “Yes, well…I’d rather not repeat it. It seems to do more harm than good.”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Despite herself, she found herself doing the same study she had done while in Redcliffe Castle, in the future. Looking for elements of his future self, just as she had looked for his past self in Redcliffe. But he was the same as she remembered. Cool, aloof, quietly amused, focused, serious. Though, not taking the whole dark future thing as seriously as she anticipated.

“I’m surprised you aren’t as interested in learning your own future, Solas,” she said. “You haven’t asked me a single thing about yourself or how you appeared while I was there.”

“I know enough,” he replied, unconcerned. He held out a hand to catch a few lazy snow flurries as they drifted down in front of him. “If that future happened then I—and Cassandra, Cullen, and the rest—failed to stop this Elder One. More than that, I need not know.”

“Are you certain?”

“Of course. What matters is what this Elder One is doing, and how you will stop him. I do not.”

She stared at him. His words summoned echoes from the future, words that existed now only in Iren’s memory, all spoken in his voice, warped by the metallic hum of red lyrium. As though his future self were reaching back and trying to connect with her again.

I do not matter here. You do.

You are the one who will change this world. Not I.

We do not matter so much as the world at large.

“You matter to me,” she said aloud, as her own words echoed in her mind. He turned to her, surprised, his hand still suspended to catch snowflakes. She took his hand with both of hers, squeezing his cold fingers tightly. “You matter.”

He said nothing, only gazed at her with a searching, curious look. She held his gaze solidly. She didn’t want to shy away now. Not now that she had seen what could be lost.

She had seen how much he cared for her in that dark future. How much her death had pained him. How much he had believed in her after all was said and done. She searched for something of that in him now. Some hint of who he could be, one day, given time and care and something, someone to believe in.

She was to be disappointed.

After a moment, he nodded. “Thank you, Iren.” Gently, he slipped his hand from hers. “I should return to Haven. It will take some preparation before we are ready to seal the Breach. If you'll excuse me.”

She watched him go, cold snowflakes settling in her dark hair and against the rough-dyed wool of her coat, a strange ache in her chest. That same longing as before, when she had stood in the hall before the throne room of Redcliffe Castle, a gaunt, thin-framed elven man leaning against a broken pillar at her side. Wanting something she couldn’t have. Aching for something she left behind. Only now it was all backwards.

It’s best that you do not bring anything from this time back with you.

He had meant anything physical, of course. That's why he had been so careful to hold himself apart, so as to avoid infecting her. Always standing at arm’s length. Glancing over her to make sure she remained unharmed after every battle. Determined that she would return to her time with nary a mark or burn to suggest she had ever been there. No red lyrium. No slow magical poison. No corruption. Nothing save her memories.

But despite his caution, she had brought one thing back. She hadn’t intended it, but she felt it within her now, cradled close to her heart, dormant and sleeping. An echo of a memory of a dream.

She carried with her a bit of the man she had left behind. The man who had sacrificed his life to give her time to reset the world and save it. Solas of the Elder One’s dark, twisted future.

She missed him.

Warm tears flooded her eyes and she quickly wiped them away before they could turn to frost in her lashes. It was foolish, probably, to cry for a man who didn’t exist. Or didn’t yet exist. Whom she'd only really known for a handful of hours at best. But there she was, her eyes closed, a hand pressed over her heart, feeling it beat beneath her palm as she recalled the last look she had shared with him. Eyes glowing with intense red light meeting hers across the cracked stones of the throne room floor while she struggled with their inevitable sacrifice to come.

You cannot stay here.

The last words he said to her, urgently spoken in a world falling apart. A world she couldn't stay in, if any of them had any hope of surviving and stopping their true enemy. A world she had escaped, with his help, his sacrifice.

She opened her eyes to the snowy landscape around Haven and took a frosty breath in. The chill burned in her lungs and grounded her to this reality. Her place was here. She could do good here. She could save the world from the Elder One’s mad plans here. She was exactly where she needed to be.

But she knew now that some part of her would remain in that dark future, forever stretching out her hand to the man she had left behind.

[watcher-with-burned-wings]

Darkside (Pt. 2)

(Part 2 to If you love me, let me go, or the Wasteland Au)

The crest of the sun had just begun to peek over the edge of the wall of Life City. Only a few citizens were wandering the streets of the sleepy city, setting up shops and stalls for the customers. Town hall lay dormant, peaceful for now. But soon, it will be filled with hostile and aggressive arguments, insults, and annoyed hybrids.

As per Mayor Scar’s integration plan, all outsiders had to attend classes to learn how to be model citizens.

That’s how every day, for eight hours, Scott had spent the last two weeks. Scott tolerates the quote “lessons” only because it allows him to see Ren and Grian. Pearl was there as well, formally known as Blood Moon. But her owner had somehow managed to calm the wolf centaur down to someone nearly unrecognizable.  Most of the time it is just them ignoring or arguing with Scar.

Jimmy, Martyn, Tango, and Cleo tend to come back to the hall to find the crimson having done something to Scar and were found chilling in Grian’s room, much to their dismay. They never hurt Scar, he’s usually locked in a closet or locked out of the hall, they even had him stuck in a chair due to super glue the quad had made from flour, water, mud, and sap.

They weren’t allowed flour unsupervised after that.

Waking up to someone licking his face, Scott groaned out, “Owen…please. I’m trying to sleep.” The llama huffed and nudged him a bit more aggressively, bleating into his ear. The cyan-haired llama hybrid sat up, rubbing his ear. “Fine, fine. I’m up.”

The llama huffed again and then began to eat the hay that Scott had been using as a bed. Shaking his head, Scott chuckled and got up, stretching out, and looking around the stall he called a “room”. Jimmy reluctantly agrees to allow Scott to live in the barn because both Tango and Jimmy can see the effects of Scott being locked and chained up in the house.

He had fallen into a deep depression, barely eating, not speaking, and refusing to come out from under the bed. The llama hybrid was sleep-deprived as well, so it was only so long before Tango set up a room-like cell next to Owen’s stall. It was a stall with a padlock on the door and had hay for bedding instead of a mattress, much to Scar’s disapproval. The first night showed much improvement, much to the Ranchers’ delight.

A few compromises were made for him to stay in the barn. First, he had to have meals in the house, unless he was sick.  Second, he needed to shower every day, at least once, due to smelling like a llama, which Scott honestly didn’t mind smelling like. And last, he had to attend the “lessons” without fuss, unless, again, he was ill. Scott readily agreed because he got the chain off and had somewhere comfortable to rest with a fellow llama by his side.

Owen worked as a personal alarm clock as well.

The llama would lick him or annoy him until he got up for the day. Which was a blessing and a curse because he didn’t have a snooze button or off button. Scott walked over to the stall window, looking through the bars as Jimmy opened the barn door. Jimmy smiled as he strolled over to the door, pulling a key out of his pocket.e

“Good morning, Scott! How are you? Sleep well?” He asked as he unlocked the stall door, opening it for the perky llama man. Said llama man nodding with an eye rub.  

“Yes. Now food.” Scott replied simply. Jimmy shook his head.

“Nope, you shower and get dressed first. You smell like the barn.”

Scott grumbled under his breath but dipped his head in acknowledgment because he didn’t want his little bit of freedom taken away. Jimmy’s gaze softened as he walked with him, guiding him towards the house.

“Tango is making your favorite, strawberries and waffles.” Jimmy tried to cheer him up. “So, the faster you shower, the faster you get strawberries.”

Scott visibly perked up at the mention of the red berry, his tail wagging. He had never tasted something so sweet and juicy before, being one of the only good things in the Life City. “Okay. I’ll accept this.” He laments. Jimmy giggles and opens the door for him.

Scott didn’t even try to get away from them anymore. He learned that trying to escape alone goes nowhere. Granted, even if he did have a chance, he wouldn’t want to leave his friends behind again. Even Pearl had become somewhat of a friend to all of them, easily relating to the sucky situation they all were put in. So, they all agreed to play nicely with the Lifers.

Bolting to the guest room, he grabbed a clean uniform for the class that Scar had issued all of them, tailored to their specific needs. Scotts was normal, minus the tail hole in the trousers. The uniform consisted of gray pants, a black blazer with red, green, and yellow accents, and a white long-sleeve undershirt. The llama hybrid ran back to the bathroom to begin getting ready.

After the quick shower, Scott got dressed. He looked at himself in the mirror and tamed his wild hair. Once he deemed himself presentable, he left the bathroom. He throws his night clothes into the laundry room as he passes before heading to the kitchen.

Jimmy and Tango were chatting in the kitchen when he entered. They both turned to him when they noticed him.

“Good morning, Scott. You can sit down. I’m just finishing the last batch of waffles.” Tango invited with a kind smile. “The strawberries are already on the table for you.” He tacked on after a second.

“Okay, thanks,” Scott replied as he sat down at the dining table.

Scott grabbed a strawberry happily from the large bowl in the center of the table. Unable to contain his llama side, he popped the whole thing into his mouth. Juice dripped down his chin as he savored the delectable fruit as he chewed. He didn’t realize he had closed his eyes until he opened them once he was finished with his mouth full, wiping away the juice with his sleeve.

Jimmy gave a disappointed frown. “Scott, small bites and please use a napkin instead of your sleeve.” Scott just rolled his eyes at him but did what he was told with his next few strawberries.

The Crimson llama was still quite hurt about the Ranchers' betrayal of him. He would be civil to them but would give them the cold shoulder if they asked him to join them in a bonding activity or try to explain their reasoning. However, he didn’t hate them.

He could never.

Jimmy, the kind and caring guy that he is, does everything in his power to try to make Scott comfortable. He has been the one to try to cheer Scott up using flowers, trips, or food to show him that being a lifer isn’t so bad. Tango, in his way, shows his affection by allowing Scott to help around the farm when he is stir-crazy. He shows him how to cook and work complex Redstone mechanics, which goes over Scott’s head most of the time.

But it’s in those times that it hurts Scott the most. Neither understands that they are showing Scott a life they could have had if they had kept their word. But now doubt and broken trust have fractured their relationship in an immeasurably way. Tango and Jimmy have been trying desperately to fix it, but it’ll take time. Something they don’t have before they lose Scott forever.

Shaking away his thoughts, he noticed the waffle on the plate in front of him. Scott glanced up to see Jimmy looking at him worriedly with Tango glancing at him through bites.

“Sorry, just lost in thought.” He apologized before he started eating. Both seem to lose some tension in their shoulders. Jimmy begins to eat his waffle now that he has confirmed Scott’s comfort.

Honestly, Scott felt a little bad about the two farmers. They love him, which before the incident, perhaps he could have reciprocated the feelings. But not anymore. Neither understands that the hybrid feelings. He does like some of the perks of the city, but he feels confined. He is meant to wander, and be nomadic. The lessons feel too domestic. He is part animal, and animals like to be free.

Scott's eyes drifted to the door window, looking out towards the gate as he chewed the waffle slowly, holding it with his bare hands, no syrup.

Tomorrow night they would escape.

They all had been planning this for the last two weeks whenever they managed to get away from Scar. They would quickly hide the evidence of anything being suspicious if they heard any footsteps heading towards them and pretend to be playing cards or just talking. Today they were going to go over last-minute details then they were out of here.

Finally, they all finished their breakfasts. Scott got up and grabbed his required bag and slipped it over his shoulder. Jimmy cleaned off the table as Tango when saddling the horses. As much as the llama wanted to help, he was called over to Jimmy to help wash dishes. He did so begrudgingly, knowing this was a tactic to keep him clean.

Once the dishes were cleared and cleaned, both made their way outside where Tango was waiting. Scott ran up to his horse, he called Bubbles, petting her affectionally. She nuzzled into his hands, snorting happily. He hoisted himself over the sweet horse and settled him into the saddle. Tango had already mounted his horse and trotted over to him. Jimmy followed suit quickly, mumbling something about being late.

The trio began to make their way towards the town hall at a quick pace. They rode through the narrow streets that led to the interior city.  Scott couldn’t help admiring the small shops and morning people that milled around them. Flowers and colors were everywhere compared to the scarlet sands of the wastelands. It only grew more colorful as they went deeper into the city.

Soon the hall appeared ahead of them. Scott dismounted Bubbles, giving her a loving pat on her flank. Tango and Jimmy both stay on their horses.

“Have a good day in class Scott,” Tango called with a smile as he grabbed Bubbles’s harness.

“And please don’t glue Scar down again,” Jimmy added. “It was a pain to get him off that wooden chain.” Scott couldn’t help but feel proud.

“No promises~” Scott called back, laughing at Jimmy’s pale face. Tango shook his head.

“Just get in there, you’re late as it is. I don’t want Scar giving me an earful for you being late.” Tango shouted with an amused and slightly serious tone.

The llama stuck out his tongue at Tango before bounding up the steps and entering the city hall. He took a sharp left down a hallway, following it down to the very end of the hall. He pushed open the door to find Scar in the middle of some boring manner talk.

Scar looked up and grinned, clasping his hands together, “Ah, Scott. Nice of you to join us  !” He gestured towards his seat. “Please sit, I was just explaining the concept of good table manners.”

Huffing, Scott sat heavily in his seat, feeling a smug satisfaction every time, he saw the scar that had appeared where his saliva had burned Scar. Grain gave him a lazy wave of his hand, head down on the table, clearly bored out of his mind, wings partly tucked. Ren wasn’t much better; he looked like he was trying to give Scar his attention but was cleanly falling asleep behind his sunglasses. Pearl sat with her wolf body lying down, being too big for a chair. She had her head in her hand, blinking slowly as she too felt compelled to nap.

Scott sighed as he settled in for the long, boring morning.

============================================================

Grian was startled as the bell rang for lunch. He looked around frantically as his wings puffed in fright. He relaxed when he realized where he was, catching his breath before he relaxed. Scott seemed to notice and gave him a small reassuring smile. Ren and Pearl were still knocked out cold due to being nocturnal most of the time.  

Glancing around, Grian didn’t spot Scar anywhere.

“Where’s Scar?” He questioned Scott.

Scott hums as he stands up, stretching. “He went to grab the lunches.” He sighs as his back audibly cracks, making Grian cringe. “Also, you have drool on your face.” The llama pointed out.

Grian wipes his face and stands up as well. “So how are we going to keep him this time?” Grian asked, looking at the llama expectantly. Scott looked around the room before smirking to himself. The llama hybrid went over to a cabinet and grabbed a gray roll of something. “What is that?”

“No idea, but I’ve seen Tango use it in the barn to hold a pitchfork together so it’s strong,” Scott explained.

“Huh,” Grian replied. “So, pin him down and use it to attach him to the floor?” Grian suggests. Scott gave him an odd look.

“Well, I wasn’t thinking to use it like that,” Scott admitted. “But I think your idea sounds funny so let’s do it.” The llama grins devilishly.

Grian mirrors his expression.

================================

Of all the things Pearl was expecting to wake up was not Scar yelling as Grain and Scott attempted to get him to the floor. Pearl flickered her ears in amusement as she watched the bird man struggle to hold down the human while the llama boy tried to put something gray on his limps. Pearl got up and trotted over and sat down her great wolf body onto the man’s chest.

Said the man letting out an “oof” as he lost his breath. Seeing his opportunity, Scott swiftly placed gray stuff all over his limbs, all attracted to the floor. Ren, who seemingly had just woken up as well, looked at the sight with amusement. Pearl got off him and moved to stand by the llama hybrid.

Getting his breath back, Scar exclaimed, “Where did you get duct tape!? And where did you learn to use it!?” The human struggled futilely on the floor in the tape. Scott simply shrugged.

“Found it and Tango fixed a pitchfork with it so I thought I could use it on you. And it worked.” He gave a snide smirk. “Thanks for lunch by the way!”

Scott grabbed a box labeled with his name and began to head to Grian’s room. Grian followed, hopping on Scar’s stomach before grabbing his lunch box.

“That was for the boring lesson, now we’ll be in my room, socializing.” Grian chirped as he left. Ren got up and followed him, but stepped around him and grabbed his lunch.

“Later dude. Have fun laying on the hard wooden floor.” He said as he left as well.

Scar looked up at Pearl. “Can you please let me up?” Pearl snorted at the absurdity.

“Nah, mate. This is your well-deserved karma.” She stepped around him, grabbing her lunch as well but used her tail to smack him in the face before she left. She exited the room and bounded down the hall towards Grian’s room.

When she got there, she found her allies eating their box lunches. Scotts ate nearly all fruits and vegetables due to meat being hard on his digestive system. Grain had a mix of nuts and seeds, some meat scarps for him as he was an omnivore. Ren had a burger of some sort, biting into it happily. Pearl settled beside Ren and opened her box, wagging her tail as she had a nearly raw steak in her box. She grabbed it and started tearing into it eagerly.

Everyone was quiet as they enjoyed their food. It wasn’t until everyone was done completely did Grian pulled out the escape plan.

“Now let’s get down to business. We’ll go over the plan once more.” Grian looked at Ren. “When Martyn heads to bed, you’ll creep down the stairs get the key from under his bedside lamp, and leave through the front door after grabbing your things.” Grian looked down at the map he was holding, tapping on a marked house where Ren lived. “From there, you’ll go head to Scott’s place and grab the sharp clippers and free Scott and the horses.”

Grian turned to Scott. “When Ren frees you, you’ll supply the horses with everything we need and grab your gear. Then you head to me with the metal snappers. I should have grabbed my stuff by the time you have arrived, then you just need to free me.” Grian looks at Ren and points at the map. “You’ll go break Pearl out from Cleo’s with your claws to pick the lock.” Grinning, Grian finishes up, “Then we can get out of here. We just need to wait for the guard switch.”

Pearl gives a wolfish grin, “Sounds great to me. We can blow this popsicle stand.”

Scott looked at Grain and nodded, “I think that covers everything.” He speaks. Ren frowns.

“Wait, when is the shift change?” The werewolf inquires. Grian bites his lips.

“That’s the problem. It happens right before sunrise, so we need to be quick. And that’s why we need the horses.” He explains, glancing at the Pearl. “You can run faster, right?”

Pearl crosses her arms, insulted. “Of course, I can. You insult me Grian.” The parrot snickers and smiles.

“Great. So, we’re sorted.” He clasps his hands. “Now what?”

Scott pulls out a deck of cards, “Go Fish?”

=======================

Jimmy pulled his horse to a stop in front of the town hall. Tossing over towards Tango, he asked, “So where do you think Scar is today?” He asked as he dismounted his horse.

Tango looked over and snorted, “I don’t honestly know. It’s honestly impressive what they can do.” The other rancher followed Jimmy’s actions.

Jimmy tied his steed up to the fence before heading up the stairs. He shook his head slightly before sighing, “I can’t even disagree with you. The glue was incredible.” The dirty blond turned back to the other. “We probably should hurry, I bet Scar is waiting for us to free him.” Tango quickly followed his partner up the steps and headed inside.

The pair glanced around the hall before heading towards the classroom.

“Yo Scar, you here?” Tango called out, before opening the classroom door.

“I’m here!” Came the reply. “Help me, please!

Jimmy looked around confused before he saw the poor mayor. He was practically wrapped in a layer of duct tape to the floor. It took everything in Jimmy’s power not to burst out laughing. Tango excused himself before he erupted into laughter in the hallway. Scar gave him a pleating look.

Holding his laughter back, Jimmy managed to ask, “I see they did it again. How this time?” The farmer knelt, pulled a knife out of his back pocket, and began cutting away the tape, being extra careful not to nick Scar.

“I went to grab the lunch, then Grian ambushed me when I set them down on the desk.” The green-eyed man complained. “Scott then appeared with the duct tape I had on the cabinet and started taping me down. When I was almost free, Pearl sat on me!” Scar sat up, most of the tape off him.

Tango came in looking a bit sheepish, “That may have been my fault. I showed him how to use the stuff.” Scar brushed himself off.

“So, I have you to blame for this.” Scar threw up his hands as he scowled. “Thank you so much, Tango.” He said sarcastically.

Tango huffed. “We’ll reprimand Scott. Jeez, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Tango tacked on, “Plus it was Grian who tackled you.”

Scar sighed, “I know. It seems like he is getting more mischievous and chaotic recently.” Jimmy frowned slightly.

“Do you know why?” Jimmy questioned. Scar shrugged.

“Nope, but I am hoping it’s because he is settling in.”

The group of humans moved towards Grian’s room. They walked back through the main hall before going down a hallway on the opposite side of the classroom. They walked past the door leading to Scar's office, where the prison is still full of other hybrids waiting to be essentially adopted. Soon they reached the door and opened it.

What awaited made all of them fawn over the sight. All the hybrids were curled up in a pile on the bed, asleep. Pearl was curled around all of them, under the pile. Ren was lying across her wolf body, snoring slightly with his sunglasses askew on his face. Grian was in the center of the pile, wings draped across everyone, making sleepy chirps. Scott was on the other side of Grian, pressed tightly between Pearl and Grian curled into a small ball with a small smile on his face.

As much as they wanted to let the mutants sleep, they were supposed to be trouble. Tango was the one who shook Scott’s shoulder. The llama whined as he sluggishly woke up, sitting up carefully to not disturb the others. When he realized who woke him up, he gave them a sleepy sheepish smile.

“Hey…”  

Tango picked him up and said, “Don’t ‘hey’ me mister.” He said, “You know exactly what you did.” The blue-haired man just whined as he was slung over Tango’s shoulder. Scott waved to the other awakened hybrids as they left the room.

Jimmy followed Tango out as he carried Scott out. “You said you were going to be good.” Jimmy chastised him. “But instead, you duct tape Scar to the floor.”

Scott grumbled, “Scar is boring. All he did was talk about manners.” Tango shakes his head.

 “I know it’s boring, but you need to still be respectful of Scar.” Sighing, he shared a look with Jimmy as they left city hall. Tango sets Scott on Jimmy’s horse, much to the llamas' confusion.  “That’s why something is going to change.”

Jimmy sits next to him. “This is going to sound bad, but the other day, we agreed that you need some sort of punishment for these shanghaies. And that is why we are going to move you back into the house.” The visible panic that crossed Scott’s face made Jimmy’s heart hurt. Grabbing his hands, the farmer continued, “It’ll only be for a week, darling. It won’t be so bad.”

Scott began pleading, “No, please. Don’t put me back in the house. I’ll behave better please.” The llama’s eyes watered with unsheathed tears, causing Jimmy’s resolve to fracture. “You can do anything else, but please. I can’t sleep or feel comfortable in the house. Take away my water or food but please, let me stay in the stall.” Scott begged.

Jimmy looked over to Tango, wearing a conflicted expression. Tango seemed to share a similar reaction.  Neither of them predicted this strong of a reaction when they were planning this. They were expecting angry words and fighting, but not pure desperation. Scott seemed terrified of going back to the house.  Jimmy bit his lip.

“We’ll talk more when we get home.” Jimmy decided.

                                ===========================================

The trip was silent they made the trek back to the ranch. Scott's mind was buzzing with thoughts. He didn’t want to go to the house. It would ruin any plans of escaping they have been planning for the last two weeks. His ears were pinned to his head at the thought of going back to the house. The other two would occasionally glance back at him with guilty expressions as Scott hugged himself tightly.

When the llama hybrid said he would give up anything, he wasn’t kidding. He hated being locked in that room. Only himself in that small tight space. A shiver ran down his spine. He would rather be under a tree in the crimson than be back in that room unable to leave as his only will. The stall is bearable because Owen is with him. The llama is an emotional support animal.

The sudden stop of the horse realized that they were back at the house.

The blue-haired man leaped off the horse’s back and ran towards the barn, not bothering to stop as his name was called by the other two. Running into the shed, he ran to his stall and slammed the door, flopping into the hay and curling up, tears pooling in his eyes.

The llama man didn’t even look up as footsteps approached his door. Owen had leaned over the stall and was nuzzling Scott’s cheek, never liking to see the man sad. The llama snorted at whoever opened the door and bleated out at them.

“Scott…” The blue-haired hybrid didn’t even look up at Tango’s voice.

Scott mumbled, “Go away,” He pressed himself deeper into the straw, “I refuse to leave this barn.” Owen stamped his hooves with an agitated blet as the footstep closed in on him.

“Scott please, we just want to talk.” Jimmy’s voice responded.

Scott sat up and snapped at them. “Leave me be! I just want to be alone!” Tears freely ran down his face as he glared at the startled and shocked faces of Tango and Jimmy. Owen, sensing Scott’s anger and hurt, began spitting at the two. Both left the stall but Jimmy paused outside of the closed door.

“We’ll talk tomorrow morning when you have time to process this.” Jimmy sounded apologetic. “I’ll be back later with food. We are sorry we upset you darling.” He left after that, leaving Scott to wallow in his misery.

After a while, Scott stood up from his bed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, a new fire in his heart. Owen blets in concern for him, nudging his side. Sniffing, “I’m fine. I promise.” He patted the head of the animal before beginning to gather up his belongings into his original scarlet to prepare for the night.

The hybrid was tired of people pulling him this way and that. Gritting his teeth, he shoved away some ration he had been staving and filled his canteen full of water out of the water trough. He changed out of his uniform and into his colorful coat and homemade patchwork pants. His fedora was hanging on a nail on the stall wall. He snatched it off the hook and placed it on his head.

He looked at his reflection and felt more like himself than he did in a month of being there. He felt the bitterness from the betrayal rising in his chest, mixing with the new outrage. Who do they think they are to cage him like a misbehaving dog? Scott clenched his fist tightly, leaving crescents in his palms. When they are gone, they’ll see. They will all see you can’t tame the untamable. Spite coursed through his veins, after all, if he’s anything, he is petty.

A low giggle soon grew into a laugh that turned into manic insane laughter. After all, they put them through. Being petty would be merciful, but no. Scott wanted revenge. Owen gave a pleasing baa to him to see him laughing, not understanding. The chains and trying to force them into submission, treating them with fake respect but still expecting them to fall in line? Yeah, no.

Scott turned to Owen and stroked his wool as he came up with a plan for revenge, while he waited for Ren to come for him.

=========================

It was well into the night before Scott heard a rustling outside his cell. Scott perked up as Ren unlocked the door for him. He gave Ren a grin. “Took you long enough.” The llama teased the wolf. Ren rolled his eyes.

“Sorry dude, Martyn was being extra clingy tonight.” The wolf apologized. Scott brushed it off.

“It’s fine. Now I’ll get the horses out, you grab the saddles.” Scott grabbed the keys from Ren and unlocked Owen’s stall then moved onto the horses. The llama pushed open his stall and followed Scott, leaving Ren confused, but the guy didn’t question it.

Scott grabbed the three horses from the stalls as quickly as he could. He even took precautions by tying rags over the hooves while Ren saddled them.

Next, Scott went to the far side of the barn where all the tools hung. He looked at all the tools before he found the bolt cutters. He grabbed it when something else caught his eye, a lighter. He debated to himself before he snatched it as well and shoved it into his pocket. He headed back over to Ren and Owen.

“Got it, take Blossom and head over to free Pearl. I’ll bring Bubbles, Buttercup, and Owen to free Grian. We’ll meet you in the center of town.” Scott related as he mounted his horse easily. Ren saluted, doing the same to his horse.

“Got it, my dude. I’ll be back faster than a fart.” Ren announced before he took off. Scott sighed, amused by Ren’s antics. Scott led the horse and llama pair out of the barn, leaving it empty.

Pausing, Scott looked at the barn before pulling the lighter out of his pocket. He ran his thumb over the little ignition as he stared at it, before looking at the barn again. Spite shot through his mind as he opened it and tossed the lighter into a hay pile on the side of the barn. Scott ran away before he could watch it set a flame.

The blue-haired man managed to get to the town hall in record time, especially with the two animals in tow. He hopped off the horse and climbed over the fence to Grian’s window with a little difficulty but managed when Owen bucked him over the last foot. He used the chain cutters to snap off the lock then rapped on the window, letting Grian know he was there.

The avian burst out of the window, startling a surprised laugh out of Scott. Grian picked him up by the shoulders with swiftness and flapped over the fence, dropping him onto his horse and landing on Buttercup, his feather ruffled.

Grian looked a bit panicked, “We got to go! I may have done something quite stupid.” Grain urged his mount into a near sprint. Scott followed swiftly, Owen keeping up relatively well for a llama.

“What did you do!?” Scott called to him as he kept pace.

Grian bit his lip, “I may have... uh… accidentally alerted Scar when I was…” He mumbled the last part.

“What?” Scott asked as he didn’t hear him.

“I tried to steal his shiny pendant…from around his neck…when he was asleep.” Grian finished looking sheepish. “And he may have woken up.” Scott groaned as he facepalmed but knew he couldn’t say anything after the stunt he pulled, smoke was already starting to waft through the air.

“Let’s hurry, I bet the others are waiting,” Scott replied instead as he pushed his horse to a full sprint, Grian following suit.

As the blue-haired llama guy suspected, Ren and Pearl were waiting for them. Both looked bewildered as they flew down the street towards them on horseback. Scott called out to them as he and Grian dashed past, “Go! Go!” Neither needed to be told twice before they were with them.

The group charged toward the gate, no one faltering as horns sounded around them. If anything, it made them go faster. The closer the gate became, the more smoke filled the air, and a large plomb bellowed up from the air in the direction of the ranch.

Pearl called out, “Scott! What the heck did you do!?” A laugh in her voice of astonishment.

“A heat of the moment of decision you could call it,” Scott admitted as pressed close to his horse’s back.

Grian gave a startled laugh as well. “You can say that again. Did you set the barn on fire?” He questioned.

“Yep.”

The trio blinked at the straight answer they got but didn’t question it any further. After all, who are they to judge a bit of revenge?

The buildings thinned out as when they came up to the gate. The open was clear of guards, much to their surprise. But a glance to the left was the answer. The lighter had done its job, it lit the hay up which had spread to the barn. The frame was engulfed in flames, sending black into the near-dawn sky.  The whole guard was firing the fire along with Jimmy and Tango.

Scott called over to the others, “Get going, I’ll catch up with you, take Owen with you.” The other three shared a look as they slowed down, just barely before seeing the look in Scott’s eyes and decided to continue. Scott watched as the others left the city until he made sure they were well and far away.

The llama hybrid turned back to the fire. A strange scent of calm washed over him as he watched the flames eat away at the old wood. He must have stood there for a good five minutes before he caught Jimmy staring at him. The blond-haired human was covered with soot and grime, tears in his eyes. They stared each other down for what felt like an eternity.

Jimmy was the one to break it. “Scott! Get back here!” The human screams in anguish.  

Scott simply bowed his head to him, sad that it had to come to this. He turned and urged his horse into a trot, a free man once again, now with plenty of friends. Scott glanced back when he reached the place where he first saw the city. In his heart, he hoped that they never have to deal with another Lifer again, but in his mind, he knew his actions had consequences. He sighed and caught up to his friends who were waiting for him, who all rode into the rising sun.

[ace-of-zaun]

Pas de Deux pt. 5:

Silco x f!reader, 6.9k words, NSFW

CW: obsessive silco, yandere/kidnapping (please see part 1 for the full series warnings!) 

Chapter warnings: manhandling (silco gets protective of reader and holds them against a wall, but it doesn’t go any further than that), mild sexual content (dry humping), emotional manipulation, references to murder, drugging, and past abuse, angst, obsession

A/N: This chapter is quite intense and also a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. Please mind the warnings and read with caution. 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9

-

Waking up on Silco’s lap had been one of the most bittersweet moments of your life.

For a few blissful moments, you’d never felt so safe and warm.

It was something you’d dreamed of for years. Waking up peacefully, instead of alert and afraid, like you had done for your whole life.

Then, you’d realised just whose face it was peering down at you, and whose fingers were gently carding through your hair, his nails gently tracing across your scalp.

You were horrified with yourself for adoring the feeling for even a second, let alone a good few minutes.

Never again, you tell yourself, I will never allow myself to fall asleep and wake up in his arms again.

Of course, you’d been forced to fake your illness for a few days longer to avoid him becoming too suspicious of your sudden ‘recovery’. This had resulted in a number of unfortunate events.

Firstly, Silco had slept on a chair by your bed for the next two evenings, which you’d protested at first, but had soon considered the lesser of two evils, given that his other option was for you to sleep in his bed with him…

Absolutely not. There’s no way he wouldn’t try something weird if you were in his bed with him.

At least in a bed by yourself, you’d been able to sit up and watch him snore the night away as soon as he’d dropped off, giving you plenty of extra thinking time since your latest plan had failed.

And it was time alone you desperately needed since Silco would not let you leave his sight, unless you needed the bathroom. Even then, you’d been pretty sure he’d rather be by your side than give you any form of privacy.

He’d even tried to ‘help’ you in the bath, before you’d firmly put your foot down.

He’d constantly ask if you were okay, if you needed something to eat or drink, if you felt better than you did five minutes ago.

He’d check your temperature without any prior warning, more often than not startling you at the sudden intrusion to your personal space. Finding your forehead covered by his long fingers became a near hourly occurrence as he felt the need to reassure himself you were getting better (despite there being no fever in the first place…)

He’d even walk you to and from your bedroom everyday, desperately linking your arm with his, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through the cracks in the floorboards.

Honestly, it’d be sweet if he wasn’t so overbearing.

A sardonic part of you thinks that he deserves to be killed for annoying you far more than he deserves to be killed for kidnapping you…

Maybe I should tell him that when I finally do the deed, you think sarcastically.

In the first few days after your trip to the Doctor’s laboratory, you’d obsessed over what went wrong and if you could find a way back there.

You’d even had the drastic thought of injuring yourself whilst rehearsing your routine, perhaps stretching yourself just a little too far, in the hopes you might pull a muscle and be able to convince Silco to take you back.

But then you’d realised that you’d be stripped of your daily escape once more and after losing it for just shy of a week, you’d be loath to give it up again.

One step forward, three steps back.

You’d been resolutely ignoring the panic that was starting to build inside you at the idea that you might never escape this madman’s claws. That you might be forced to live with him forever.

But you forbid yourself from even going there. This will only work if you keep yourself calm and collected at all times, you tell yourself sternly.

So, of course, the very last thing you need upon returning to your bedroom from your first day back in your studio, is to find the blue-haired girl going through all your belongings.

You stand at the open doorway with your mouth hanging open, in complete shock at the scene before you.

Your room is utterly trashed. The wardrobe door is flung open, there are clothes everywhere, your bed sheets have been torn off… even the mattress is up against the wall.

After scanning the wreckage, your eyes snap over to the girl, who is standing at your dresser, wearing one of your coats like she’s just found it and decided she now owns it.

She even has the gall to hum a little song to herself as she empties the contents of your sock drawer one by one, pulling apart all the pairs and flinging them over her shoulder when she’s finished with them.

The little shit.

You’re about to storm over to her, thunder clouds brewing in your already-pissed-off mind, when you suddenly remember she has a pistol sitting comfortably on her hip.

On second thought, it’s probably best you stay by the door…

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you ask sharply.

She barely glances at you before going back to feeling along the bottom of the drawer and knocking on the wood, like she’s looking for a secret compartment.

“Just looking for any weapons,” she retorts, a smug little smile crossing her face.

You huff a breath of air through your nose.

If only she knew just how overjoyed you’d feel to be hiding a weapon after all the effort you were putting in to get one.

But that would just prove her right, so you opt for talking to her like she’s five-years-old.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Room.”

You dare to take one step towards her, hoping she’ll be threatened into leaving you alone.

It does the exact opposite.

The girl looks up at you slowly, a sinister expression spreading across her features like a tiger who’s just spotted her lunch. She begins to stalk towards you, one hand resting on her gun predatorily.

“Or what?” she asks, in a tone of voice that is far too innocent for the way she’s practically hunting you down.

Your mouth opens to deliver a (probably futile) threat when you’re interrupted by a familiar, gravelly voice from behind you.

“Jinx!”

Both of your heads snap over to the doorway to find Silco standing there, looking absolutely furious.

He carefully takes in the state of your room as he walks forward to stand next to you protectively.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asks in a stern tone.

“I was just checking your pretty little princess wasn’t hiding away any weapons,” the girl says sweetly, looking at Silco like butter wouldn’t melt.

“Jinx, don’t be ridiculous,” Silco tells her, taking your hand in his before you have any time to cross your arms, “She is my soulmate; we’d never hurt each other.”

You bite the inside of your lip. Oh, if only he knew.

“Yeah right. As if you could love that,” the girl sneers before pushing past the both of you and stomping out of the room.

If you had been in your normal state of mind, you would have been absolutely infuriated that she’d just stolen one of your best coats, but you’re far too preoccupied with Silco referring to you as his soulmate (again) and Jinx implying that Silco loved you.

He’s not in love with you, right? He’s just infatuated… he can’t be in love.

He doesn’t know anything about you.

Silco frowns at your far-away look, stroking your arm soothingly until you turn your attention back to him.

“I apologise, my darling. I’ll make sure to have words with her later,” he reassures you, his angry expression now replaced with a concerned one.

“Who is she?” you ask.

“Jinx… my daughter.”

You blanch.

“Your daughter?”

Well, that explains her possessive behaviour, but it certainly doesn’t explain everything about the situation.

Like, for instance, who the hell would have a baby with this guy? And more importantly, where were they now?

“It is a rather complicated story, one I will be sure to tell you in time,” Silco tells you wistfully, “But she is not my blood.”

“Oh,” you say dejectedly.  

You’re not sure what else you’re meant to say. Clearly he’s not being as open with you as he was making out. Deep down, you have a dreadful feeling that you don’t know as much about Silco as you’d previously thought.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one with secrets…

“I apologise for not telling you sooner, dearest. I had rather hoped you would both meet under much less volatile circumstances.”

Without even really thinking about it, you jump on the chance to guilt-trip him for not telling you about his daughter. Then, you reason, he might feel compelled to make it up to you somehow, and an IOU from the Eye of Zaun was certainly not a thing to be sniffed at.

“Well a heads-up would have been nice,” you say with fake exasperation.

Silco takes your hands into his and looks almost heartbroken at your displeasure.

“I promise I will tell you everything in due course, my lovely,” he says ardently.

Honestly, you don’t really want to know. Something pretty fucked up must have happened in his life for him to turn out like this, so you think you’d probably be better off not knowing.

Not wanting to go down this line of conversation any longer, you turn your attention back to why Silco had showed up at your room in the first place.

“Did you need something?” you ask impatiently.

He frowns at your blunt tone.

“I was merely checking up on you, my sweet.”

Shit, that may have been a bit too harsh. You were so caught up in all these new revelations, you’d forgotten your ‘charming girlfriend’ act for a brief moment.

It only takes you a few moments to switch it back on.

“Sorry, this has all just shaken me up a bit,” you say heavily, gesturing to your junk-pile-of-a-room, “I might have to skip lunch now that I need to clean up this mess.”

“Nonsense, I’ll have someone clear this up for you,” Silco replies instantly.

Oh. You were so used to cleaning for yourself after you’d been forced to let go of the cleaning staff at the mansion, you’d completely forgotten what it was like to have other people tidy up for you.

“Okay,” you say kindly, “Thank you.”

“Of course, my love.”

Silco kisses your forehead ardently but you don’t really register it. Instead, you’re distracted by the realisation that you really ought to find a way to make this Jinx like you before it becomes a major problem.

The last thing you need right now is for her to start putting doubts in Silco’s mind about you and your intentions… even if those doubts would be completely and utterly correct.

-

The rest of the week goes by in a blur, thankfully with no further incidents.

You resume your familiar routine of choreographing and spending time with Silco, all the while quietly thinking how you can get your hands on some kind of weapon before you go to the chem-baron meeting.

Really, if you wanted to, you could have choreographed the whole performance and perfected it in a single week. But Silco doesn’t need to know that.

No, the more time you could stall, the more time you would have to find a weapon.

It strikes you that you may have been too ambitious with your plan to kill all the chem-barons as well as Silco. Perhaps it would be easier to see what weapon you could obtain first and then make your assassination plan.

There was no point making grand schemes like you did with your husband when you were so physically limited here with Silco.

You needed to keep this clear, simple, and most importantly, achievable.

Standing outside The Last Drop, breathing in the dank and musty air that could only be found this far down in the city, you watch people cross the plaza, entirely unaware of your situation.

Well, that’s not quite true. They may have some idea of your ‘importance’ given that you’re currently surrounded by six bodyguards.

You sigh. What you wouldn’t give to just walk down a street without being shadowed by an entourage.

A thin woman carrying a baby catches your eyes as she crosses from one side of the square to the other, and you find yourself suddenly thinking about your late husband.

There was no doubt about it; he was a Piltie through and through. A man who had never known the struggles of living on the edge of poverty. Of wondering if each day would be your last, and whether the hunger or the fear would kill you first.

No. He certainly never knew what it was like to eat rotting food and bathe in freezing water.

Gods, you think with an amused huff of air through your nose, what would your husband have thought about you being a Zaunite?

You probably wouldn’t have needed to slip any pills into his drinks at all, he would have just had a heart attack naturally…

Wait a minute.

You kept some of those pills. You hid them in your house for months before making your move on your husband.

“Fuck!” you exclaim loudly.

The guard to your left jumps slightly at the sudden noise and peers down at you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, most likely terrified of you being hurt on his watch, given the high likelihood of him not surviving to see you recover from any injury he could have prevented.

“Nothing. I’m going back inside now,” you snap, turning to stalk back into the building.

You hastily make your way back to your bedroom, suddenly developing an irrational fear that somebody might be able to hear your thoughts if you stand too close to them.

Your breathing is shallow and your heart beats rapidly until you finally slam the door behind you, flopping down onto your bed with your hands over your eyes.

This was important, you needed to focus.

It felt like a lifetime ago now, but really it had only been a few short years since you’d stumbled across an article in the library, whilst doing some research on how to ease muscle aches and strains.

In the back of an old scientific journal, you’d read a paper on a drug that had been discontinued for sale, after it had been found to have toxic effects with too much dosage, that were difficult to trace back to the source.

It wasn’t until you’d read one tiny sentence at the end of the article that the plan had clicked in your brain.

‘Further testing of the drug has been passed over to the Undercity department.’

Now, what that meant for Zaun, was that unsuspecting citizens who were in desperate need of extra cash would have been used for test subjects, instead of risking the lives of anyone in Piltover.

What that meant for you, was that you had access to a drug that could kill your abusive husband with barely a trace left behind.

Not long after finding the article, you’d paid a member of your staff handsomely to not only go into the Undercity and fetch a bottle of the pills, but also to keep their mouth shut about it.

Of course, you’d lied to them about their true nature. Something about needing a contraceptive that wouldn’t clash with your regular painkillers.

And oh, how they’d worked a treat.

You had planned to flush the rest of the pills once all the dust had settled, but after your husband had kicked the bucket, you’d first been completely distracted by all the new arrangements.

Then, you’d found yourself run off the ground trying to keep up appearances, lest your neighbours and peers suspect anything unusual about your behaviour.

So, getting rid of the pills had completely slipped your mind.

Which meant the bottle you’d carefully hidden behind a loose panel under the bathroom sink would still be there, right where you left it.

An overwhelmed gasp ripples through your chest.

For the first time since you’d established your plan to find a weapon to kill your kidnapper, you feel a shred of hope.

This was something tangible. A real advantage you could gain that you knew for a fact existed and would work.

You just needed to get to your house in Piltover.

And there was one person stopping you from going back there. One person you needed to persuade if you were ever going to escape this place.

You sigh deeply, the sudden light making you feel dizzy as you remove your hands from over your eyes.

It’s time to step it up a notch.

-

You’ve just finished having lunch with Silco when you choose to strike.

He’s in a particularly good mood, having spent the whole lunch stroking your knee under the table while you chatted about your favourite books.

You’d even put on a few sprays of the perfume he’d bought you, and you can just tell by the way his good eye flutters shut whenever you’re close to him that he likes it.

Placing your knife and fork on the plate, you stand, but instead of making your way over to the sofa like you usually would, you pause by his bedroom door.

“What’s in here?” you ask demurely, tilting your head in a perfect act of curiosity.

Silco’s expression becomes an odd mix of delight and self-satisfaction as he comes to stand beside you.

Rather than telling you, he decides to show you, leaning across you to turn the handle and push the door open.

You enter the room slowly, drinking in all the unexpected details as you see his bedroom for the very first time.

It’s a little more cramped than you were expecting, but it’s certainly his style; dark, sophisticated, and sleek. The mahogany furniture matches the desk in his office and the bed sheets match his asymmetrical clothing.

It has precisely everything it needs and nothing more.

Taking a few tentative steps in, you slowly run your fingers across the small desk placed in front of another stained glass window, overlooking the city.

“You have a lovely bedroom,” you finally say, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

Silco immediately joins you on the bed, sitting right next to you, as close as he can possibly get.

“It could be yours as well,” he murmurs, his tone low and entirely salacious.

You turn to look at him and are relieved to find him playing into your game, his gaze hungrily flickering between your eyes, your lips, and your body.

Alright. Let’s play.

Before he can register what’s happening, you push him backwards onto the bed and turn to swing your legs over his body until you’re straddling him, sitting just above his crotch with your knees either side of his hips.

His seafoam eye widens as he stares up at you in complete shock.

“Do you really mean that?” you ask in a deliciously low tone.

Silco inhales deeply, his hands instantly moving to run up your thighs, to your hips, and around your waist. He looks up at your body like he wants to devour you.

“Of course I mean it, darling,” he replies, his voice suddenly hoarse with desire.

A sinful little smirk crosses your lips while you capture his hands from your body, pinning them on the sheets either side of his head as you lean down to whisper in his ear.

“Are you going to be a good boy and give me what I want?”

His whole body shudders at your words, quickly opening his mouth to speak again, when you cut him off by grinding yourself on him in a slow, rolling motion.

A muffled groan escapes his lips, his head automatically tilting back like he’s experiencing nirvana.

“I’ll give you anything you want, you beautiful little vixen,” Silco all but moans.

He leans upwards slightly, in an obvious attempt to catch your lips with his, but you pull back until he can’t reach you, looking down at him once more.

“Do you know what I want right now?”

“What?” he asks rather impatiently, trying to roll his hips against you.

“I want to go back to my house and retrieve something very important to me,” you tell him, keeping a careful eye on his reactions.

The man beneath you freezes instantly. His face drops and he tries to sit up, but you don’t allow him.

Instead, you begin to place a series of slow kisses on his neck, keeping a firm hold on his hands so he can’t move.

“Dar-ling…” he says with a little stutter, clearly distracted by your ministrations as you hit a sweet spot.

“You said you’d do anything for me, Silco, ” you tell him, switching to an incredibly innocent tone.  

You take a risk and let go of one of his hands, quickly moving to run your fingers through his hair, gently tugging the strands and running your nails over his scalp.

It must have worked because he visibly and audibly has to hold back another groan, as his now free hand moves to cup your ass.

“And I’ve been so good for you lately, just like you asked me to,” you murmur against his jaw, making sure to give his skin a little nip with your teeth to punctuate your words.

“Why would you need to go back there? I assure you, my staff retrieved every one of your personal belongings.”

“They didn’t find my necklace. I made sure to hide it away for safekeeping because it’s very special to me,” you insist, with another, deeper roll of your hips, which he responds to by bucking up against you.

“Why haven’t you - unh - mentioned it before now?”

Fuck. You hadn’t expected him to ask so many questions about this made-up necklace, so you hadn’t bothered making up a plausible backstory.

You inwardly curse yourself. How could you have forgotten to plan for such a logical question?

Trying not to let him see that he’s caught you off guard, you move one hand to slowly run up and down the outside of his hip, whilst the other begins to toy with the buttons on his vest, your forearm resting along his chest.

“I’ve been too distracted by you,” you say coquettishly, opting to let him hear what he wants to hear right at this moment.

You could come up with a proper backstory if and when he agrees.

Silco struggles to speak, his hands moving from cupping your ass to slowly creeping up underneath the hem of your shirt.

“Darling, you know I don’t want you to go back there. You belong here with me,” he emphasises, becoming braver and slightly more possessive with his touch as he tries to reach for the back of your bra.

You shift backwards slightly to keep it out of his reach, but in doing so, you find yourself sitting directly on his crotch.

Fuck. Do not think about how your body is reacting. Focus on the goal.

“Please Silco,” you plead, hating yourself for being reduced to such pathetic begging.

But it was the final card in your hand.

Below you, he looks torn between considering your very serious request and just ripping the clothes right off your body. It takes him a good few moments, but he finally speaks again, albeit with great difficulty.

“It’s not possible, sweetheart.”

And just like that, it’s over.

You immediately let go of him and manoeuvre yourself until you’re climbing off the bed, away from him.

Anger shoots through you as you peer down at him, watching his incredulous expression with downturned lips.

He looks absolutely ruined.  

His hair is all mussed up, grey strands hanging down over his forehead, as he pants like he’s just run a marathon. You can barely see the seafoam green of his good eye by the way his pupil is blown out.

Before you can give into any primal urges to climb back on top of him, you begin to move towards the open door of his bedroom, back towards the office.

“Where are you going?” Silco calls after you, his tone of voice just as astounded as his expression.

“I need to rehearse for the performance,” you reply in a clipped manner, your fists balled tight against your legs.

You’re going to punch the wall if you’re not careful.

You can’t even afford to let yourself look back at him as you walk out the room, so you don’t, opting to keep your eyes locked onto the office door as you stomp past the desk.

For a brief moment, you worry that he’s going to chase after you, but your worries are soon replaced when the door opens in front of you, revealing a very pissed-off looking Sevika.

Her eyes jump from the empty chair behind the desk, to the open door of Silco’s bedroom, finally landing on you.

Almost automatically, you release the tension from your clenched hands and adopt a smug expression, making sure she’s holding eye contact as you give her a cheeky little wink, despite the overwhelming frustration coursing through you.

She scowls at you but you leave before she can say a word, heading back to your bedroom to have a much-needed cold shower.

-

In the following few days, Silco repeatedly tries to get you into his bedroom again, his attempts ranging from gentle suggestions, to straight up trying to pick you up and carry you through the door…

He’d earned a harder-than-necessary whack on the arm for that one.

Honestly, it’s a little bit flattering. Nobody has ever been this desperate to get you into their bedroom before.

But you keep refusing, regardless of any persisting feelings or urges that are begging you to climb atop him just once more.

It’s nothing to do with Silco, you reason, it’s a perfectly normal reaction to not being close to anyone for such a long time.

He never pushes it, and he never forces you, but you can just tell that he’s craving a repeat performance by the way he tracks every little movement of your body with his mismatched eyes.

Allowing him to drool over you for a few days, you’re just about to move to the next stage of your plan, which would involve breaking your self-imposed ‘no kissing’ rule, when all of a sudden, he stops.

Silco no longer makes any flirtatious suggestions. He stops asking you to have breakfast in bed with him.

In fact, he barely even looks at you properly, as he begins to quietly tip-toe around you whenever you’re in the same room. His touches become light and reverent once more, as if he’s abruptly decided you’re something fragile, something to be treated with care.

And it utterly confuses you.

You spend a long time wondering what had happened. You hadn’t had an argument. You hadn’t snapped at him.

It was like a switch had been flipped. Only you had no idea what had caused it.

A part of you worries that you’ve pushed him too far, and an even more primal part of you is terrified that you’ve ruined it all completely.

The plan was to make him want you so desperately that he’d crumble under the pressure and give into your request to visit your home, not make him shy away from you completely.

Fuck. You needed to fix this. Quickly.

It’s not until another quiet lunch with him that things change.

Silco finishes his meal and abruptly stands up.

Assuming he’s going to head straight to his desk to work, like he has been doing the past few days, you begin to push your own chair back to leave the room when he appears at your side.

You glance up at him curiously as he gently takes your hand.

“Would you like to go for a walk with me, my angel?” he asks you quietly, almost nervously, when you really think about it.

You’re surprised to say the least.

This is the first time since you’ve been here that he’s offered to accompany you outside The Last Drop (bar the visit to the Doctor, of course, but that had been an entirely different situation).

You agree with a soft smile, which he returns with an overwhelming amount of relief.

Silco fetches both of your coats from the coat rack and leads you downstairs, holding your hand the whole way. But by the time you exit the doors of the bar, he drops it, opting to clasp his hands behind his back instead.

A pang rings through your chest that you pray to Janna isn’t disappointment. You should not feel disappointed that your kidnapper doesn’t want to hold your hand any longer.

Gods, the quicker you could escape the better, you think. All of this insanity was completely fucking with your emotions.

Walking side by side in companionable silence, a plethora of guards trailing behind you both, you try to figure out what could have caused his sudden mood shift.

Perhaps Jinx had said or done something to upset him? Or maybe you had confused him by briefly leading him on?

By the time you’ve run through multiple scenarios and possible reasons in your head, you realise you’ve arrived at the edge of the market.

Immediately halting your movements, you stand and stare at the busy street, wondering why the hell he would bring you here of all places. When he’d asked to go for a walk, you believed he meant just for some fresh air and a change of scenery.

Silco notices you’ve stopped walking and re-joins you at your side.

“I thought I could buy you some jewellery,” he tells you, immediately deciphering your puzzled look. “For your new costume,” he clarifies.

Of course. You’d completely forgotten that he’d agreed to get you a new costume for the chem-baron performance. Now that you think about it, he had mentioned it once or twice before, but you didn’t realise he was this invested in it.

Turning to look up at him, you take in his quietly hopeful expression and decide to appease him.

“Okay, sounds good.”

With a smile, he begins to walk again.

Continuing further into the market, you take in all the new and overwhelming stimuli that your senses had almost forgotten. There’s food stalls, and clothes stalls, and even stalls that you’d never thought would need to exist…

But Zaun was nothing if not eccentric, so you barely take any notice.

Silco directs you over to a jewellery stall that has hundreds of beautiful pieces laid out on the tabletop, as well as a vendor who looks absolutely petrified watching the Eye of Zaun get so close to her, even on the other side of a table.

You bite back a laugh. Oh, sweetheart. Try being kidnapped and held hostage by him.

A nice set of pearl earrings catch your eye as you gaze over the wares, but when you turn to show them to Silco, you find him with a pensive expression on his face, looking over the rings.

Engagement rings.

Your eyes widen in alarm.

Why the fuck is he looking at engagement rings?

Slowly inching yourself away from him, you pretend to be interested in something on the next stall, needing to put some distance between the two of you.

There’s a horrible mental image running through your mind of him proposing right here in the market, and you honestly don’t think you could handle it if he did.

Safely one stall over, pretending to examine some vintage books, you catch sight of some pretty fabric on the next stall along and find yourself automatically making your way over there.

Immediately drawn in by the array of cloth, you begin to feel the texture of each different fabric, coming across one that sticks out to you.

The beautiful white lace you hold gently between your fingers would be perfect for a ballet costume, and even more perfectly, would fit the routine you were currently choreographing.

Then you spot a string of little pearls that would be just perfect for the corset of a long, flowy dress.

And as you gaze over the other accessories on sale, it strikes you that you’re actually enjoying yourself a little bit. It almost feels normal to think like this. To think about ballet and costumes and accessories, instead of murder and escape.

You’re actually quite glad that Silco had thought to invite you out like this.

You look across to the jewellery stall to see if he’s still looking at engagement rings, but soon realise that he’s not there.

Turning to look around, you can’t see him anywhere, but you do see two lumbering bodyguards standing right beside you, so you just assume he’s off looking at other stalls.

Probably buying more expensive cigars, knowing him, you think with a roll of your eyes.

You move your attention back to the fabric because you know there’s absolutely no point in trying to bolt with two guards watching you like a hawk, when suddenly, you hear a distressed shout of your name from behind you.

You spin around to find an utterly panicked looking Silco in the middle of the street, desperately scanning the crowds of people.

The goon beside you gives him a booming call of “Over here, boss,” and Silco’s eyes instantly snap over to you.

His lips thin as he begins to storm over to where you’re standing, the look on his face shows how furious he is.

Deep inside you, there’s a urgent need to get the hell away from him, but you can’t because by the time you even think to run, he’s grabbing you by both arms and pushing you into the nearest alley.

You stumble backwards and by some miracle, don’t trip on the uneven cobbles. Heart pounding in your chest, you’re just about to yell and ask what the fuck is wrong with him, when he holds you against the cold, brick wall.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Silco shouts, his voice tinged in anger, but there’s definitely a sense of panic swimming in his eyes.

“Of course not!” you fire back, infuriated that he could accuse you of being reckless when it was his fault you were in this position, “You’re the one who left me.”

His gaze turns sinister in a matter of seconds.

It’s like something has darkened inside of him and he tightens his grip against you, leaning forward to crowd your space.

“Get off me!” you cry out, struggling against him.

But he doesn’t let go, his lips curling into a snarl as pain begins to slowly shoot through your arms.

You start to panic and tears begin to fill your eyes.

He’s not going to let you go. Fuck, he’s not going to let you go.

Desperately, you try once more.

“Silco!”

And just like that, he snaps out of it, like he’s been hit with an electric shock.

Looking down at his shaking hands, he seems to finally recognise what he’s doing and he lets go of you like he’s been burned.

“Darling, I… I-”

“Don’t,” you snap harshly.

Silco’s hands hover over you, never quite touching you, as he panickedly looks you up and down.

He looks absolutely horrified.

“Let me-” he begins and then gulps like he’s struggling to speak, “Let me check if there are any marks.”

You cross your arms over your body, hiding yourself away from him.

“No, I just want to go home.”

Silco says your name slowly and reaches out a hand to touch your arm, causing you to reflexively flinch away from him.

He retracts his hand quickly and somehow manages to look even worse, all the colour draining rapidly from his face.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him as he stands and stares at you, his hands still shaking at the side of his legs.

“Alright, sweetheart, we can go home,” he finally says, in the quietest, most disturbed tone of voice you’ve ever heard him use.

Silco finally steps back and you force your trembling legs to carefully walk past him, wiping the tears from your eyes with the back of your hands.

You raise your head high and take a deep breath, before walking stiffly towards the guards blocking the entrance to the alley.

And as you silently walk back to The Drop, you refuse to look back at Silco even though you can feel him following behind you.

You can almost feel his mismatched and forlorn eyes burning a hole into the back of your skull.

-

Silco sits on the floor outside your bedroom, leaning back against the door, with a bottle of bourbon in one hand, and a photograph of you in the other.

He’s done this every night since that awful day at the market. Ever since he fucked everything up.

It’s torture, he decides. Being so close to you, but being unable to bring himself to knock on the door.

Of course, you’ve been completely avoiding him since you both returned home from the market, even refusing to have meals with him. In fact, you’ve barely left your room. And you certainly haven’t been in your studio again.

But Silco doesn’t know what to say or do without making it worse.

He’d just wanted to cheer you up. Make you feel more normal.

He knows that you don’t really leave the building anymore, and is well aware from years of being in hiding how detrimental it can be to shut yourself away for long periods of time.

He only wanted the best for you. For you to be happy in this life he was building for you both.

Then he’d gone and ruined it all.

And for what? Because he’d been scared that you’d left him?

No. It was more than that.

He’d managed to track down and speak to your ex-house staff and he’d finally learned the truth of how your husband had really treated you behind closed doors.

A complete, an utter monster.

Silco wishes he could raise him from the dead, just to make sure he could kill him again, slowly and painfully.

He’d been waiting for the right time to broach the subject with you, first wanting to make sure you were comfortable in his presence before discussing your traumatic past.

And then he’d cornered you in an alley and scared the living shit out of you.

But he just couldn’t help the panic that had gripped his soul when he truly thought you’d disappeared in the market.

The fear that someone might have taken you and might be hurting you, when you should never have to feel pain ever again after your many years of suffering.

How could someone treat you - a perfect, beautiful angel - so badly?

Of course you’d been so reluctant to touch him all this time. Why you’d insisted on taking everything so slowly.

Why you’d stopped yourself from kissing him in his bedroom and taking your relationship further, even though he could tell from your body language that you wanted him just as badly.

And by the gods, were you insatiable. You were everything he’d dreamed of and more.

Silco hangs his head and sighs quietly.

He was just as bad as your husband. You were just starting to trust him, to really open yourself up to him. And he had to go and shatter it all.

Another swig of bourbon from the bottle, only after so many, he can barely feel the burn of it down his throat anymore.

He’s wasted, the wall dancing before him. Drowning his sorrows the only way he knows how.

Perhaps he’s so drunk, he’s sober again, he thinks. Past the point of being in touch with reality. Past the point of knowing why.

Silco replays the scene of him holding you against the wall in his head, over and over, wondering what possessed him to do it.

Oh, who is he kidding? He knows exactly why he did it.

You’d said the words. The ones so similar to the night at the River. The betrayal that had changed it all.

If only you knew how broken he was.

But he was trying. Oh, how he was trying.

For you. All for you.

He may be guilty, but he’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy again.

Silco places the nearly-empty bottle down on the ground, being as careful as he can to not make any noise.

He lifts your photograph closer to his face and places a gentle kiss on it. When his eyes refocus, he strokes a finger over your blurred features and feels an ache in his chest.

If only he could do it for real.

“I’m so sorry, my darling,” he whispers to your photo, his voice slurred and painfully inconsolable. “I love you so much.”

PART 6

-

Taglist: @pinkrose1422

[townsenddecades]

1316 – Day 3

Baby Joan only survives for a few weeks before a fever, certainly brought about by malnourishment, claims her.

Both parents are devasted, but Malika is downright inconsolable. She doesn’t say as much to Benjamin, knowing he would try to talk her out of it, but she blames herself. She must have done something wrong. Maybe she could have been more careful, more pious, more anything. Maybe she should have eaten more, for her baby. But how could she have justified that to herself, when she would have been taking food out of Amye and Malcolm’s mouths?

Sadly, the tragedies don’t stop there. People have been dying of sickness and mere hunger for months, so it is little surprise when over in Mahlsberg, William Watmore, Edith’s husband, falls gravely ill. She doesn’t feel too well herself, but she supposes that that is merely her pregnancy, the lack of food, the fear for her husband and the pressure of taking care of the house and their young daughter all on her own. There is little time to nurse her husband on top of it, but she does her best.

It is almost a relief when he dies, even though she hates herself for the thought.

The reality of her situation, that she is now a starving, heavily pregnant widow with a small daughter to care for and a sodden, unyielding piece of land, only crashes upon her later. She takes care of the necessary formalities to have William buried – and she grieves for him, truly she does, she just can’t think of that right now – and then reaches out to her family. Her father’s and siblings’ support are now the only thing she can hope for.

Her family doesn’t fail her. It is arranged that she will spend the months until her second child’s birth in the empty cottage on her father’s land, so that she isn’t alone, and Malika and Benjamin can help take care of her daughter Elsie. She feels a bit guilty that she and Elsie will strain the Townsends’ limited food stores even further, but she doesn’t see any other way for the two of them to survive.

While she is away, William’s brothers will take over tending to her plot, which the Earl has graciously agreed to. No doubt the fact that her sister is married to his legal advisor’s son has helped with that. She doesn’t intend to complain.

She almost cries when she arrives back at the farm she grew up on and is greeted warmly by her father and siblings. It is a relief to not be responsible for once, and she is only too glad to give Elsie into a delighted Malika’s care and rest.

After losing her own babies, Malika is glad to have another child in the house to take care of, and is soon completely besotted with little Elsie, who is a precious, friendly girl. And Benjamin, despite the circumstances, is glad to have his daughter in his home again and is looking forward to meeting his youngest grandchild. Losing Duncan and Joan has been hard on him, too.

Edith takes a few days to regain her strength, but once she feels a little better, she puts herself to work. She might not be able to help being dependant on her family’s kindness and what little food they have, but she can at least help Malika in caring for the house.

So, she puts herself to work tidying, helping with the three young children, tidying, scrubbing, and whatever else needs doing. The work helps her not to think about William or her future too much. It still hurts her deeply that he will never meet their longed-for second child, or that her baby will never get to know its father.

She is glad to at least have a cottage to herself and to Elsie – that way, no one notices when she gives into her grief at night. The last thing she wants is for her family to think her ungrateful, after all they have done for her.

Prev: 1316, Day 2 <--> Next: 1316, Day 4, Part 1/2

WATCHER’S COMMENT:

Killing sims and writing about the grief of those left behind still hurts, but that’s the challenge. We’re not done with the famine deaths yet, either.

Joan would have been such a pretty sim, too. I am very unhappy that I won’t see her pass on those genes.

[ask-the-monsterous-five]

Muse list!:

Name: Keith

Age: 19

Gender: male

Bio: Keith was once a completely normal human,however that changed when he met the lemon demon in week two,he was bitten by the lemon demon after he attacked GF,though the two survived the attack,Keith would start to become ill as his body began to ache,until he fully transformed into his monstrous and current form,when he first transformed he ended up attacking pico,permanently damaging his left eye,he soon after came to his senses and profusely apologized to his best friend. For a while,his monstrous form would have sudden feral outbursts and Keith often secluded himself in his room as a result,however after skid and pumps sacrifice,these outbursts stopped as Keith stopped secluding and isolating himself,though he hasn’t seen skid and pump after the instinct vanished,though he hopes to see them soon. Keith is mostly back to normal personality wise,he’s very optimistic and energetic but is more apologetic to pico for hurting him accidentally and in general when he does something wrong,even if it’s minor,he also has a massive hunger for meat,his favorite thing to eat now being rotisserie chicken,he tends to act like a dog more then human.

Name: rose

Age: 19

Gender: female

Bio: rose is a half demon who used to hide behind her human form until the events of week 2,the lemon demon had bit and tore off her entire face,reveling her demonic and bloody skull face,thinking she was dead,Keith charged and attempted to attack the lemon demons his is how he got bit in the first place,with no other option,she unleashed her demon power and form and teleported herself and Keith away,despite her fear,especially since she had no face anymore,Keith supported her,saying that he’d love her no matter what,Keith ended up buying Rose a mask so she could walk out in public without drawing attention to her exposed face,she then changed her whole outfit to what it is currently even showing some of her demon features ,thorough Keith’s struggle she has stayed by his side,supporting him through his struggles,when pico comes over to visit she goes outside to hunt for the lemon demon like a bounty hunter,and she won’t stop until she strikes the lemon demon dead.

Name: pico

Age: 20

Gender: male

Bio: after reuniting with Keith in week 3,pico and rose would see how Keith was getting aches of pain and ill and the two looked after him,when Keith transformed into his monstrous form and went completely feral,pico got his left eye permanently damaged as he was trying to calm Keith down,luckily he came to his senses soon after,for a while pico wore a bandage around his now blind eye in his daily life,suggesting to now being blind in one eye surprisingly quickly,however unknown to everyone,Keith’s scratch had magical venom in it and one day,pico transformed into a monster himself,luckily though,most likely cause it wasn’t a bite,or wasn’t from the lemon demon himself,picos mental state was not affected. Pico is surprisingly still laid back and chill but this whole situation has left his anger to fester,it dosent help that his now reptilian like instincts make him more aggressive when angry,he vows when he and the lemon demon meet again,he WILL kill him and make him pay for what he’s done,especially after what he did to the spooky kids.

Names: skid and pump

Ages: 9 and 8

Genders: both male

Bios: skid and pump were once a odd combo of a skeleton and pumpkin child,but one day,that all changed. When they brought the lemon demon to Keith and rose they were locked in a closet and could hear the violent screaming of the couples struggle and their “friend” they felt guilty for bringing thier new friends to someone who tried to hurt them,but the next time they met,the couple quickly assured the kids that it wasn’t thier fault and they were good and ok,however when Keith became a monster the kids saw how sad Keith was thanks to his feral side so they decided to visit thier “friend” it took a few days but they found the lemon demon in a dark abandoned alleyway,they told the lemon demon what was going on with Keith and asked if there was a way he could help him. That’s when the lemon demon proposed a idea,he told the kids that he would remove Keith’s feral side if the kids gave something valuable away,the kids thought he just mentioned candy or clothes and even when he explained that wasn’t it,they still agreed to the deal and signed the lemon demons contract,the two were then knocked out by a strike of magical lightning and when they awoke they had discovered that what they gave away was their individuality,as they were stitched together and were just like conjoined twins,luckily though,their sacrifice wasn’t in vain,as the lemon demon kept his word and removed Keith’s feral instincts,the only person who knows about the kids sacrifice was pico and he promised not to tell anyone else the kids secret as they all knew if Keith found out,he would be crushed,it’s also why they hadn’t visited Keith,they didn’t want him seeing them like this,they also discovered that through synchronized fear or concentration,they had a newfound power to do demon like magic,including but not limited to summoning a large style,however they never use it,cause they have no reason too. Despite their horrible situation,the kids are still as bright,bubbly and cheerful as they were before becoming conjoined,most likely cause they always stuck together anyway and have a very good relationship.

[stephnbrenny]

Past Secrets:

Chapter 2: The Underworld

8 weeks later

We finally arrived in the underworld after what felt like forever. I was anxious to find Killian and bring him home after everything I had done. All I was doing was trying to save the life of the man I loved with all my soul. I let him think I didn’t trust him, and it turned him against me. He fell right into the darkness with no one to help him fight all because of me. I only gave in to the darkness out of love, to save him. I had to fix what I had done but, it should have been me. I was prepared to give my life to save my family from the dark ones trying to send them into the underworld. Just when I thought my Killian was gone, he reemerged ready to die to save everyone. It wasn’t fair, where was my happy ending. I regret not choosing him sooner, not doing things I wanted sooner. The things I should have said, wanted to say but was too scared to. I had two choices though I could sit and worry about regrets, or I could make up for my wrong doings.

We traveled around the underworld for hours searching for any sign of Killian. We were given a clue to check his grave to see if he was still here, which is where Mr. Gold met us with a bottle of water that could help you talk to the dead. Sadly, the connection wouldn’t hold, and we were back to square one. Sometime later we met Meg who led us to where Killian was being held by Hades, but it was guarded by his 3 headed dog. We recruited Hercules and together defeated the dog, but Hades had moved Killian. We then met up with Gold again who had an idea that we could have one of the dead ones help us get down to Killian. “Miss Swan, I'd like you to meet Milah, my ex-wife... oh and hooks ex as well”. So, this was the famous Milah, it was nice to put a face to the name. She was beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous I was a bit jealous that this was the woman Killian used to talk about, his first love. “This is Emma, she is Killian’s new love... oh and she has also been with Bae whom she had a son with”. Well way to make things awkward “You've been with both my former lover and my son?” “uh” I had never thought about it like this before. I looked down feeling awkward and ashamed.  

Milah led us in a boat across the river of lost souls to the entrance to where hook was as soon as we stepped out of the boat, I could feel him. It was like there was an invisible string tying us together. He was as much a part of me as I was of him. I felt the pull to get closer, to close the distance between us. “He’s down there, I can feel it” “are you sure?” “Absolutely, when you love someone, you know”. Rumple stayed in the boat and said, “I am not leaving the boat, it could be our only way home” “if he’s staying here so am I Emma, if he tries to steal it ill yell.” I hesitated, not wanting to leave her with Rumple but also needing to find Killian. Milah gave me a small shove in the direction of where Killian was being held. I nodded and began into the dark tunnel.

I found him chained up over a pit leading down into the river of lost souls. “KILLIAN!” I yelled “I'm coming, just hold on”. I barely made it across the narrow walkway. I finally reached him and pulled him to the ground away from the hole that led to the river. I pulled him into me, needing him as close as possible. He moaned out in pain when he hit the ground. As I took him in my arms, he looked like someone had beat the crap out of him. He had an eye swollen shut, cuts and bruises all over his body, and was holding his right side like it hurt to breathe. I went to put my hand on his face but thought better and changed my mind not wanting to hurt him. “Oh Killian” our eyes met, and I couldn’t look at him, feeling guilty for everything. “Swan what are you doing here? Why did you come? You shouldn’t be here, no one should”. I didn’t know how to answer him Why did I come? I knew the answer but didn’t know if he’d accept it. “I... I need you; I can't do it I have to find a way to save you” He smiled shyly and said “Swan, you don’t need me, you have your family who need you but, me, no one needs me, you're better off without me.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing he really thought I didn’t need him, that he isn't the second-best thing to ever happen to me (first being Henry). “How could you say that? Of course, I need you” he shook his head “your so stubborn” “I know I never listen” “your impossible” “and you love me for it”. Then I pulled him close and tucked my head in his shoulder. Right here in his arms I couldn’t think of anywhere else I would rather be. He smelled like the ocean, leather, rum, and something else that was just Killian. He was comforting and intoxicating.  

We finally made our way back to the boat where Rumple and Milah were waiting for us. “Milah?” In that moment I watched as the love of my life was finally reunited with his first love. It felt as if my heart was breaking watching them. I felt like I was intruding on some intimate private moment. I walked ahead of them, giving them a moment while I was trying not to fall apart and to keep the tears that were forming in my eyes at bay. “Killian, oh I'm so happy we found you, I've been waiting so long for you to show up.” “Milah, it's been a long time, I've missed you” it was hard to listen to when we reached the boat Rumple got in and Killian helped me get in the boat. Killian got in the boat and turned around to help Milah get in. Killian sat next to me and across from Milah. We started our way back out of the river of lost souls. I felt sick listening to Milah and Killian flirting and giggling back and forth, reminiscing about the past. By the time we made it out of the river and back at the house I was livid. I felt like saying something, but I didn’t want to seem like a jealous girlfriend or whatever I was at this point. I mean he was technically dead what did that make me to him.

I stomped through the door and went into the kitchen and started pacing, all these thoughts racing around in my head. At one point I stopped pacing arms crossed, looking out the window as the rain poured down, leaning against the sink. I didn’t hear Killian enter the kitchen. I hadn’t realized I was crying until I felt Killian’s hand on my chin pulling my chin up till my eyes met his. I couldn’t hold his eyes. I pulled my face out of his hand and looked down at my feet trying but failing to stop my tears. It was silly, crying over my boyfriend flirting with his first love. Is this how Killian felt when he watched me with Neal? “Swan talk to me, what's wrong? Why are you crying?” which only made me cry harder. I shook my head and put my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around me. It felt like coming home, being in his arms but, I also felt like my heart was shattered as well. He had his good hand rubbing my back trying to comfort me and his hooked arm around my shoulder holding me to him. “Baby talk to me, what’s the matter?” I finally pulled away from his shoulder, meeting his eyes. He wiped my eyes with his thumb keeping his hand on my face. “It’s stupid, silly even” “Whatever it is it’s not stupid or silly, you don’t cry Swan we both know that, so what is it?” I didn’t want to be that pathetic jealous girlfriend. I didn’t get jealous, but I had only ever seen Killian act like that with me. It had me thinking it was all just an act at this point. I decided it would be better if I just let it out, plus Killian knows me too well. He’d know if I was lying same as I'd know if he was lying, and it was more than just my lie detector. “I didn’t like the way you and Milah were acting with each other, all flirty and stuff.” He raised his eyebrows at that “Ah, is that really what this is about?” I felt hurt, like what I was feeling was insignificant and didn’t matter.

I pushed him away stepping around him to the counter just staring off into space. The tears started up again, I just couldn’t stop them. I felt him step closer behind me I tensed up automatically until his arms slipped around my waist. “Listen Swan there is nothing going on with Milah, I just haven’t seen her in over 300 years, it's hard to not fall back into how things used to be” “I’ve never seen you like that with anyone but me, not even when you were trying to make me jealous. I’ve never been the jealous type but, I-I love you and...” Then I started crying uncontrollably, I couldn’t get out any more words. I fell back toward his chest, his arms holding me up as I cried hysterically. He turned me around and pulled me closer to him as I fell apart. I had never felt this vulnerable before. He pulled my chin up till my eyes met his “Swan, I love you, and that, how I feel about you will never change, not even in death. We are more than just courting, you are everything to me and I am so in love with you. You don’t even know how long I waited for you to finally admit to your feelings because I know how you are with your sky-high walls, but I liked being the only one to break them down. You and Milah, our relationships and feelings were different. With Milah it was fun and mostly sex driven but at times adventure seeking, kind of like being high. With you it's slow and deep, passionate and sweet. It’s been everything I have ever wanted. You make me want to be a better man, I've changed, for you, for our future. You push me, challenge me and I’ve shared things with you that I never have before with anyone, and I think you have too. I don’t want to lose you”.

At that last sentence his forehead fell to mine and our noses brushed against one another. Killian always knew what to say. It was like I once said we understand each other. Our lips parted and next thing I knew his lips were on mine like a drowning man. Pulling me deeper and deeper into him. He licked my lip as our lips parted opening up to him. Our tongues met and I was sinking, drowning in his essence. He felt like coming home, the pull to him was impenetrable and it seemed silly now to even be upset about him with Milah. We finally pulled apart gasping for air. I smiled up at him and said “I’m sorry, it was silly to even get upset but...” He was shaking his head before I could even finish my sentence. “No Swan it wasn’t silly, your feelings matter no matter how big or small”.  

Sometime later I brought him into the living room and set him on the couch, he was still hurt, and I needed to tend to his wounds. He had a swollen eye, cuts and bruises from who knows what, I'm pretty sure a few broken ribs, and was limping so his leg was probably at least fractured. I waved my hand over him healing him with my magic. “Ah thanks love” At least he wasn’t hurting anymore. “Why did you come Swan?” “I told you, I need you, you never should have died. It’s not fair, its all my fault”. “Maybe I don’t deserve saving” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You don’t want to come home?” my words breaking at the last word. “I just wanted to be a better man for you, a man you could be proud of. You only gave into the darkness out of love, I plunged in headfirst for revenge. I was weak” “Not in the end” I argued. “You raised the bar; the fact is I don’t measure up” “Well let me be the judge of that”. Next thing I knew, there was a knock at the door. I went to open it and was met with a man with curly light brown hair and a pair of blue eyes like the ones I had been looking into for a long time. “Can I-” Killian interrupted me as he took in the man in front of me “Liam?” “So, it’s true, my little brother is finally here”.  

Later we sat around the kitchen table while Killian caught up with his brother. He went on and on about their adventures together. He told his brother about everything he missed out on including how he died which I wished he hadn't. “Why are you down here?” “I wish I knew, I spent years trying to figure out the reason” “There is no reason Hades has the game rigged so no one can leave, my brother is proof of that never did a bad thing in his life, he even died nobly stopping a treacherous king from poisoning the realm” “stop your making me blush” “Well Hades has you trapped down here and the only way we can get free is if we defeat him once and for all, Liam you’ve been down here a long time surely you know something that could help?” “There were others who tried to overthrow him, they always spoke of a book that had the power to defeat him”. It then clicked in my head as soon as he said it “Thats it, what if it’s a storybook?” “Storybook? No, I'd wager it would take more than stories” “No she’s on to something, there's a book like this in our world.” “If we can find it there must be something in it about Hades. If we can find it, we should be able to use it against him.” “If you believe in this Killian, I am with you, till the end. He trapped me and tortured you, the day you push your sailors to far-” “Is the day mutiny begins.  

Everyone started with Mary Margarette and David’s apartment since that was where we found the original book. I went upstairs to look in my old room or the underworld version of I anyway. While I was up there Liam came up there. “Emma, could I have a word with you?” Oh, geez here we go. “Is this like a protective big brother speech where you want to make sure I'm good enough for Killian?” “Um no... I know you're not good enough”. Was this guy for real “What?” “Killian blames himself for ending up here but, I heard what happened in Camelot and to me it sounds like it wasn’t his fault, it was yours.” “I think we both made some mistakes. “Killian has been fighting darkness his whole life and you pushed him off the cliff.” “I was just trying to save his life” “It was a bloody selfish thing to do, he had a chance to die a hero to move on and you took that from him”. “That's not fair I'm down here risking everything to save him.” “And is that what he needs? Or what you need?” “Were you this self-righteous when you were alive?” “When it came to my brother yes, if he defeats Hades today, he’ll forgive himself and have a chance to move on when that happens stop thinking about yourself and let him go, he’ll be happier without you. You don’t deserve him, nor will you ever be good enough for him. My brother deserves much better than you, can do much better” I was appalled how could the love of my life’s brother not like me, how can I move forward with Killian if his brother doesn’t want us together. "Have you ever asked your brother what he wants? If he’s happy?” “Have you? Killian is blinded by his feelings for you to see how bad you are for him. If you know what's good for you, you’ll stay away from him” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Or you'll do what?” “Killian will figure it out sooner or later, you should just give up now while you're ahead especially with Milah around. Did you really think he loved you more than her? After all your nothing but a lonely little orphaned lost girl and you’ll never deserve him” I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.  Then he left the room hitting my shoulder with his on the way out.

Sometime later there was a light knock on my door followed by “Emma, are you in their sweetie?” It was my mom. “Yeah, come in” she came in and said, “You’ve been up here awhile, is everything alright?” I wasn’t even sure; how did I feel? Hurt, all I wanted was for Liam to like me. Liam was one of the most important people to Killian and he didn’t like me. “I’m okay, I'm um just kind of tired, I think I'm going to lie down for a bit”. Honestly, I just wanted to be alone. “Oh okay, are you feeling alright?” “Yeah, mom just tired” “Okay honey, just let me know if you need anything”. After that she left, and I went to lie down. I tried to keep the tears at bay but the more I pondered Liam’s words the worse I felt. Once the tears started, I couldn’t stop them. I cried myself to sleep

[ribbitdeltarune]

the post like i said. its been 2 days later (maybe a bit more. im a bit late at this point..) But! 14 of november! My birthday !!! :p didnt do anything for myself but i did spend some (more like a ton) time with friends

so ahead will just be rambling . read if u want

Alriiight so. i am. Dead. i dont post very often . Thats bcuz i dont actually have a active online presence when it comes 2 posting lol this is sorta my first time . however i did post a few times on twitter before and got a decent following but that was basically never anyway . Thank you all for (checks notes) 19 followers! That. is a first actually

however i also kinda have 2 apologize since i dont post a lot which makes this account.. uh, semi-inactive? shrug. as i did mention before in a prev post i am holding back a lotta stuff that i havent posted yet . oops! i personally dont like posting irl photos because 1) i am actually dogwater at taking photos, 3) my camera quality sucks and 2) i dont actually draw on A4 paper very often or like notebook paper at all lol. (its this small one thats more like a notebook to write stuff down stuff you gotta remember, an agenda or whatever. not like i care i use it to draw anyway. it aint got lines its just full white paper (sometimes colored depending on the one i buy) so its for drawing in my view.) but the bad thing is most drawings i made of ribbit so far are... On Paper.

Now. I can just upload them as is but i dont like doing that . i can also just make them digital drawings but if you think im capable of doing that without immediately doing something else you may be wrong

Speaking of thats mostly why this acc is also semi-inactive . whenever i DO draw digitally im probably also doing another thing at the same time so i get distracted and then get stuck on doing something else completely and forget i have to draw!!! Oopsies. im also bad at executing things (''man im gonna draw ribbit right now'' (doesnt do it) (its also a 50/50 if i actually do it or not)) so thats part of it. do i Think posting and/or drawing ribbit stuff is a chore? Not really. i actually like drawing stuff 4 this fandom and im attached 2 the characters + the mod anyway so its not like im gonna stop This soon . not even a year in yet!

I also have a lot of ideas so i hop between 'em a lot (i have so many animations/animatics in mind but guess who cant animate and also drawing frames take longer than just drawing sighs)... thats why most posts on here is just doodles so far .

to be fair though i have been in a . Uh. I guess fine. Maybe a bit bad headspace as of a few weeks now so i havent really gotten the urge/want to post rn and who knows how long that'll take to go away anyway. thinking of trying 2 get sum stuff finished and then queueing a few posts just so i can get some brainworms out of ma head . and Who Knows if i'll really do that. Future Is Mystery!

Oh and to add i still need to finish or get to like maybe the 5th chapter for a fic im working on rn so theres that too. im still on chapter 4 (progress is fine. i think ill rewrite the dream segment?) and then i will Hopefully get 2 work on chapter 5. god bless being unable to execute things AND to spice it up focus on things (sarcasm)

i am however kinda busy these days. Schoolnstuff. I get in drawing moods a lot (literally everyday bro i dont get burnt out easily or get demotivated that much bc i just finish it eventually anyway) but i need to pass math to pass the year itself so maybe no art posts until thats done. i might post every now and then though. Speaking of posting! Did you know VeeReMia is actually a pun on viremia which is, ''a medical term for viruses present in the bloodstream''. vee came first as part of the instrumental theme, and then maxine added the other syllables. Fun isnt it (i cant stop thinking about it now)

Thanks for reading . I think thats all. Maybe. Shrug.

Also current pfp is placeholder i also need 2 make one BANGS FISTS ON TABLE REPEATEDLY

[the-firebird69]

So I'm still waiting for the report about my husband and his radiation experiment

Hera

There's a few things happening here one of them is our son is being a radiated I'm kind of walking around it cuz he's tired of being sick and fat. He got an exposure today it's about 1.7 rad for just a few minutes and then one red three times for about 10 minutes and the rest of the day was about 05 rad for about 3 hours and that was a lot he's handling it okay and he had a decent dinner it went okay and he is recovering but it's kind of a long night but he slept already a little bit couple hours we do think that he's down to around 78% of what he was at the outer layers and 98% of the inner and it's starting to work a little bit not extremely fast and he's trying to eat better that helps but his recovery rate the radiation is very good and healing is increased a little and it's it's above the die but not too much 78% is not bad and he was thinking it was 15% and yeah it went down to 7% and that's really good and he is rethinking and we believe in a couple weeks it'll be last but this percentage if the fiber blown five are blown in these exposed he'll probably jump down to 65% and it won't be much longer before that's cleared and he will start growing he'll start growing around 30% and it will actually help the process because those things will tear and it'll get destroyed by the radiation and the preservatives in there are fleeting they're not in there all the time and they are getting destroyed it's not a strong one the sandwich meats and the hot dogs are not that great and it's preserving us go the ones used on pickles and olives are very mild and it's more salt and he has had preservatives that are a lot more potent the hot dogs at that hot dog place next to Edgewood Church they are very powerful. A lot of people are going there now and it does help and it is a little bit radiation proof and they've got a lot of business so they're kind of Happy and they're little people doing better. Huge numbers of them are moving here now true and they want to hire our son and Ken and Justin to get information it's true too and that might happen it takes a little bit of work and mack Daddy might help out I usually gets done and the girl at the laundromat was one of them. And she was working for Trump and Mack might hire her she has to have the desire to. And the update is just that

Thor Freya

Good and that's better so you're saying you might be down to 65% if they bust those five and that's pretty good and at 30% he'll start growing so we probably start healing at something just saying about 50% or a little less and that's terrific and healing pretty good starting to fill out but not yet and that could be just a week away and that would be a healing and people are excited about that he's got worse and the women would be excited and fighting each other and these little ones would fight the other ones it's going to happen pretty soon

Hera is I'm talking a little bit more and we are going to announce couple things and get some rest

--there's a lot of stuff going on but here in punta Gorda there's some major events one of them people are dying from radiation and it's going to be an evacuation tonight and tomorrow and it's going to be big it's one reason why Ronald might bring the car down and that could happen probably within 2 weeks because otherwise he won't be here he said it too I can't take the radiation and he won't stay inside and our sensitive is good following me around and his little horrified because it's getting very sick but there are other things happening here the Trump people are being relieved of duty and they're all getting sick they'll get sick before their kids every time and it's going on right now and that they are getting sick they're going to be helplessly ill pretty soon. And Ronald the Rudy will not be able to stay here because they'll be too many other people from groups that are pursuing him and it's going to be very soon. The clones have tolerance of it and they're actually getting big and Jason gets big too but he is not going to be able to tolerate it much longer and our son will have to stay in a little a few days to take a break and it's true and it's just that he won't be able to heal his legs up and stuff so have to take a break not too much but a little bit and we're going to help with that and we'll still have the window openings a lot less would you see regular people leaving and the Mac proper have figured it out and foreigners but people who are pain in the ass are generally dying or evacuating tonight doesn't evacuation here and do this one change it is about 10% of Charlotte county and it's going on right now it's going to be three or four waves of radiation and it's going to be intense and a bit much so there's other things happening but it's pretty big so going to publish

Thor Freya

Olympus

[timeoverload]

Today has been very emotional for me. I haven't been able to relax at all. I have spent too much time on the phone. I just got off the phone with my grandma a little bit ago and we talked almost 2 hours. I am finally done making phone calls for the day.

I called the hospital before I called my grandma to get an update on my mom. They moved her to the PCU and she is stable right now. The nurse told me that they had to do a cardioversion and TEE on her when she was admitted. They had to do the cardioversion because her heart was beating irregularly. Her heart seems to be working properly now but her blood pressure is slightly elevated. She has a subdural hematoma but they aren't planning on doing brain surgery at this time. She is refusing to take the medication that will help prevent it from getting worse. She won't deny the pain medications though. I can't believe she doesn't have any broken bones.

I told the nurse she had schizophrenia and apparently they had no idea so I'm glad I said something. I told her that she has a long history of mental illness but I didn't give a lot of details.

I'm hoping that she didn't intentionally jump in front of the car because she has a history of being self-destructive. She did tell me that she was depressed earlier this week which is why I had that thought. I wonder if this accident is a result of another one of her delusions/hallucinations. I'll never forget what she did about 10 years ago. I was living in Florida at the time and I got a call from my aunt that I rarely talk to. She told me that my mom went to the store and bought a chainsaw and then tried to cut off her hand. She did this when she was living with my grandpa when he was still alive. She thought there was a microchip implanted in her hand so she thought cutting it off would solve the problem. She only cut through part of her wrist and must have realized what she was doing because she stopped and drove herself to the hospital even though she was bleeding out. She had to have a long surgery to fix her wrist and hand but she still has problems with it and a bad scar. I couldn't be there for her back then either because I was too far away. She can be reckless so I worry.

They are going to be monitoring her for a while and I'm not sure how long she will be there. She is very tired. The nurse tried to ask her if she wanted to order food and she just closed her eyes. I hope she is able to rest and get something to eat.

They are going to call me if anything changes because I am her emergency contact. I wish I was able to make decisions about her medical care for her but I don't have the legal rights to do that unfortunately. I am going to do what I can to help her from here.

I'm not planning on traveling to see her by myself right now. I don't feel good enough to do anything like that alone. I'm only going to do that if her condition worsens or if she needs to have surgery.

I am planning on taking Monday off so that I will have time to contact the case worker and try to find her a safer place to go when she gets out of the hospital. I am responsible for her now because my grandma can't handle it anymore. I hope that she will stay put if I find her a place to live. She needs to stop wandering around the country. She is not well enough to continue doing what she's doing. I don't expect her to come back here but I want her to be safe where she's at.

I am very worried about her but I need to focus on myself for a while I think. I was able to make myself something for dinner so that made me happy. I feel better now that I ate something but I'm tired. I am going to lay down soon. I might watch tv later or something. Hopefully I will get some better news tomorrow and I'm not so stressed out.

I hope everyone else has a good day tomorrow. Thank you for listening to me vent. 💖💖💖

[alyjojo]

May 🏋🏻 2024 Monthly - Cancer

Preshuffle: I’m hearing “what you want, wants you,” though you’ve either been blocked away from attaining this before - or you will be currently. It seems to be regarding a relationship, something passionate and exciting. If the actions aren’t being taken, you’re definitely receiving encouraging news.

Meditation: You were a spider 🕷️ expertly crafting a spiderweb 🕸️ in the shape of a heart. You added many layers to the heart shape, to make it obvious, and when the outside was done, you filled the center of the heart with tiny, delicate little webs, so as not to distract from the message itself - the heart 💜 There’s a lot of detail going into something you love this month.

Main energy: The Magician

You seem to be transmuting some kind of pain you’ve been in, whether an illness or injury, of any kind. It’s kept you solitary, or could be someone else - someone you’ve been seeing has had the flu for a week or something and you’re dyingggg to see them. Feels like you though. A necessary break period has occurred for you, and rather than feeling a way about it for too long, you’re using this time to really motivate yourself to create the circumstances, relationships, whatever thing you want to create. Excellent manifesting energy this month. I started hearing Ariana Grande with that last one, I’ll add it at the end. Whale shows music is essential for you right now, let it be another song to motivate the way you create the life of your dreams, you have every tool in your possession to do so ✨

What’s going on in May:

King of Cups:

You and a romantic interest could’ve parted ways temporarily - yes, I’m getting it’s temporary. You’ve been angry & impatient over all of this, angry this person may have literally left your presence, in order to “get some air”. Maybe quite a bit of air. I get the intention always being to come back around, they’re just trying to emotionally detach a bit, and hope you do too. Clear-cut communication is needed in this connection, and I do see you have deep love for them. Underneath all of the aggravation & impatience that is. For some, your person could be “separated” because of other things. Work, illness, family camping trip, it could be any reason. But you’ve been alone, and none too happy about it either 💯 If you’re single, you’ve about had enough of this alone bs - and manifesting the perfect opportunity for love & romance could be what you’re creating here. The Magician being a Gemini card could signal the tail end of May being a good time to put your manifesting powers to good use. Or they could be one 🤷🏾‍♀️

The Hermit:

You’ve spent a lot of time alone, or will be (forced), looking inside of yourself for the answers to the questions that eat you alive. Ruminating over past relationships possibly, this person you’ve recently separated from, if that applies. Or not separated from, they show up as your divine counterpart - King & Queen of Pentacles. For someone, an ex may have moved on to a divine counterpart, and they’re still heavy on your mind - but for most I get this is you & your current person. They’re away, or you are, but they’re on your mind constantly. How you met, the last thing you did, memories on social media, things that make you think of that one time you two did - whatever you did. If single, you’re longing for your soulmate, the real thing. Pentacles does not bother with casual connections, they seek to build a lasting foundation or it’s a waste of their time. If that’s not what you have, it’s what you want. Consider this alone time a blessing, rather than being so frustrated about it - it’s brought you clear understanding of what you want, so that once you’re feeling magical again (now/soon), you’ll manage to create this for yourself. And make it look easy 💅🏽

2 Wands:

You plan to heal a connection moving forward, there may have been some emotional displays shown that you’re not the most proud of, tears and some dramatics. Either causing the separation or during it, maybe your person is in another city and they don’t respond for a whole day, you could’ve gotten upset and acted as such. If single, you’ve had a break from this for awhile and you’re ready to move forward now - having healed from whatever happened in the past, you now have high hopes and an optimistic outlook for your future - The Star at the bottom. You might feel you’re moving towards a calling, a soulmate, something that’s *meant* for you.

Knight of Swords:

Whatever has been going on internally will be made public knowledge, whether a romantic interest, friend, you’re talking to someone who has the power to help this dream come true, whatever it is. Or just bringing it to light, you know there’s no sense in keeping quiet about it. You want this, you feel that is your path (Star at the bottom again), and this Knight takes quick action to jump on an opportunity or communicate/call an authority of sorts that can help you do this. If you’re single, this can be a dating profile where you highlight your best traits and what you desire in a person, making it clear for anyone interested. You could also be opening the channels of communication with your person, letting them know exactly what it is you want - it’s happiness so idk why they’d have a problem with that. Or that *they* make you happy. Some of you could receive news that comes with action, the go ahead, “I’ll be there in five” type of energy, and it makes you very happy,

Justice:

The scales are balanced ⚖️ A fair decision will be made, necessary actions will be taken, and this is exactly the outcome you’ve been hoping for: manifesting a wish come true. There is new love, new passion - either with someone you’ve been on the outs with, or someone brand new. Whether love related (most) or otherwise, whatever you’re manifesting into your world is turning out beautifully. Love & passion/inspiration. Probably come Gemini season, which is the 24-25th - since it’s at the end of the reading. By then you’ll know exactly what you want, and then reach out & grab it (or chase it down 😆, I heard).

Signs you may be dealing with:

Heavy Earth 🌹 Virgo, Gemini, Libra

Oracle: ✨

Coach 🧑‍🏫

Advice - Obedience - Knowledge

Perseverance 🏃‍♂️

Challenge - Endurement - Resolution

Humpback Whale 🐋

“Music is essential to your healing and well-being, whether singing, playing an instrument, or listening.”

In order to diagnose their patients, one of the questions that shamans often asked was when the patient stopped singing. If it had been quite some time, the shaman was certain to recommend singing (among other remedies) as an essential aspect of recovery. All that’s involved when you sing - the fullness and rhythm of your breathing, the soulful and creative expression of your spirit - serves to enhance your health and raise your vibrations. Similarly, playing an instrument can touch on those inner creative depths that yearn to be expressed. Simply listening to your favorite tunes or melodies can inspire & heal. Let the magical child inside help you rediscover the joy of creating music. It’s time to play!

We enter into May as:

Ivory Tower 👨‍🎨 :

“They won’t use me.”

Ivory Tower reflects the way we function in a world with values that are different from our own. While we might not fit into the world as it is, we are aware of it and accept the differences, for those differences also benefit us on some level. If you are considering moving away from “the norm” you will not be unhappy. Like the artist that chooses to express himself with paint, you too must express yourself, even if it means “they” won’t use you. Rejection is Spirit’s way of protecting us. Whether or not you are accepted, you must do it anyway. This card can also represent a teacher or mentor being sent to you by Spirit, they may not be who you would’ve thought, or even picked, but they will teach you a lot. Hold your judgement.

What is to be learned in May:

Royal Purple Brick 🧱

“She resists what she clings to.”

The fear of stepping out, of being abused, has grown so great that you no longer need a wall of fear to prevent you from living - a simple brick will do. Which of course symbolizes that what frightens you is much smaller than you imagine. What we resist, we cannot heal. Royal Purple Brick appears when we are resisting something, and may indicate a loss of faith. This is a sign of fear holding you back in some way and preventing you from moving forward. If you are experiencing pain, holding on tighter will only worsen the situation. Fear may also indicate you’re trying to save yourself from a path that will not serve you! Are you following your true passion? Is it divinely guided?

This can also indicate presently using your energy in a self-defeating way. Use your courage to let go of control and allow Spirit to come in and heal you. The promise of Royal Purple Brick is freedom after surrender. In letting go you may feel some discomfort, but you’ll also allow healing in. The fear of something is always greater than the actual event. This time period will be a life changing experience for you. Accept mystery. Release the brick and be free.

Purple may be a lucky color 💜

[bisognamorire]

Beloved A.,

Happy Friday!

Up here you see a few photos I took this week. I had wanted to arrange them separately but I can’t find the strength to organise this post much (sorry, its all over the place). The felted bunnies made me think of you and I wanted to get one for you but I am not supposed to. The candles are in the religious mourning room. It is located adjoined to the front hall where my reception is, so during nightshifts I go to lay down in there and try to rest a bit (theres a bench). I often get mentally unwell around 2-3 AM during my nightshifts. Everything just gangs up to torture me. The melon bread was disgusting. The highlight of my week was to go to the lake after my first nightshift and feed the ducks and swans some sunflowerseeds.

This week I tried different methods to stop myself from dissociating. And it worked most of the time. Once the numbness of dissociation fell away, though, I dissolved into tears; when I took a walk around the lake, when I sat in public transport, when I was at work, when I woke up in the morning, when I sat in the living room. I’m always in tears.

Always, Dad and you. Dad and you.

I think feeling how much it hurts me to have lost the both of you is still better than to dissociate and feel nothing.

Theres a scene in One Piece after the Wa no Kuni Arc where Momonosuke runs to the shore to bid the Strawhats Farewell as they leave the island. He sobs and begs them to stay and not leave him like a toddler. I felt like him in that scene this past week.

On Saturday, when I felt like I would get ill, I went to the city to eat chicken soup in an asian diner that I used to go to when I started uni in 2017. It usually helped me to get strong again. Unfortunately they’ve been closed for some reason for many months now. I then went to have soup at an other asian diner, it was only 2€ and the people probably thought I was homeless (I looked rather dishevelled and done with life) because they gave me a relatively large bowl and lots of vegetables.

It does wonders for your soul to eat a hearty soup when you’re feeling poorly.

On Sunday I visited Marina, Sharon’s friend (well, our childhood friend). She broke up with her boyfriend of seven years recently. We talked about a lot of topics like identity, mothers, parental emotional neglect and abandonment. She told me that she just hangs with random people because shes so lonely (she lives in another state and we can’t easily visit her) and she takes whatever company she can get so that she is distracted and that she doesn’t really like the girls she goes out to party with. That she thinks theyre rather shallow contacts. Its hard when someone doesn’t have a social network that breaks their fall and the person has to carry all of it themselves. We ended up just talking and we watched an episode of ‘Bodies’ on Netflix. Its a murder mystery show.

I started crying when I got back home from that visit. I felt so overwhelmed and exhausted and sad about everything around me and in my own life.

Other than that I’ve not done much this week other than work (when I work nightshifts and get home from work at 7 AM in the morning there’s really not much of me left to use for anything during the day) and sleep and rot in bed due to feeling terrible. Unfortunately my shift schedule continues to be awful the next days and I’m thinking about calling in sick soon. I desperately need to rest.

Someone put a nail in my bike tire (the one you rode) and I brought it upstairs from the bike cellar to my balcony to repair it. I curse the person who deliberately put a nail in it.

During my walk through the city I also went to a pakistani store and saw this! I remember you cracking up about it in F.

How was that in 2022? I seem to have no general sense of time passing the entirety of 2023. After dad died in June, I have no recollection of time passing.

This morning I saw mum for the first time in about a month? I felt unsettled by my therapist talking to me in detail about my cycle of dissociation and what harm it brings to myself and the relationships to other people around me, because I apparently perceive reality fragmented, or selective, when I am dissociated (which I am most of the time). I‘m horrified to see the mechanisms of my brain play out in these ways, that I don‘t want.

My mother asked me how I was but she hadnt in weeks (she simply started an argument and left me when I was so unwell because of things between us a few weeks ago). I couldn‘t tell her. What use has it? She can‘t handle me feeling unwell and things will only get worse, if I tell her.

Unfortunately, not telling her how I am was also a wrong decision. She started accusing me of not actually wanting to see her and why am I pulling auch a depressed face and won‘t talk to her?!

Then she defended my older brother and his ex-girlfriend (the mother of my niece) and basically said that its my niece‘s own fault that her mother treats her badly. I can‘t believe how this cycle of parental neglect and abuse continues into the next generations, just because the adults in the child‘s life are irresponsible and egoistic. And I‘m sitting there with over 10 years of therapy, because of how my mum and dad were and my mother still defends other neglectful and abusive parents’ behaviour!

I couldn‘t bear it anymore and just got up without a word, paid (was cussed out by a grandma in the process) and left.

I don’t have much things to look forward to. I ordered a weighted blanket to help my sleep without medication. I also got a package of Palo Santo incense, which makes my flat smell cosy when I take naps.

I have to go back to work tomorrow and work through until next Wednesday and I’m thinking about calling in sick on Monday.

I felt miserable looking at your blog yesterday and seeing that you wish to experience ‚it‘ again, that you post about ‚letting love in again‘ I am not sure what you meant by that but my mind makes me think you‘re wishing to fall in love again…

How many times can I feel like I am losing the same person over and over again? I’m scared to look at your blogs now. I wish I could see something and know that you miss me and that you love me forever and be content and never look it up again.

Yesterday I went to the cellar and rummaged in your box. I found a transcript of the first ‚goodbye‘ Message you sent me in January 2023. I knew it was there. In it, you don‘t avoid telling me that you love me (I felt like your message from this January avoided using the word ‚love’ and it made me anxious about the reasons). I heard your voice say the words to me then and I started crying and breaking down in the cellar, my knees just gave in.

All that rumination about me being abandoned is probably not helping my mental wellbeing. Spending hours and days composing these entries and not knowing if they ever reach you, is also playing into this.

I don‘t know what to do, I am so so sad about it all, I just feel like giving up everything and letting go of life.

My sole hope is that I feel a bit better when it gets warmer, so that I can lay in the meadow with the sun on my skin, with the treetops swaying in the wind.

I don’t have much hope other than that.

Your Sabo who loves you.

[diaryoftheunidropout]

DAY 50

Very brief message because it's 3:30AM and all I want is to SLEEP.

I made the reckless decision to brutally go off antidepressants completely just so I can experience the full syptoms of whatever mental illness(es) I have so I can get a better and hopefully more accurate diagnosis and be take more seriously next time I see a psychiatrist.

Three days ago I felt EXTREMELY anxious for asbolutely no reason at all. I wanted to go to the restaurant, I went, and almost as soon as I stepped foot out of my flat, I got anxious. Over nothing. I just FELT anxious. And I was also super irritated by everything. That was the case yesterday too, and a little bit today as well, but it really is less and less.

These past two days I've been feeling super motivated and happy. I can get lots of stuff done and I want to get lots of stuff done. I believe in crazy shit like "I'm going to write a book and have it published" or "I'm going to study 3D animation" or "I'm going to become a tattoo artist". And to think 3 days ago I just thought I was going to do none of that and just work whatever job I'd be given...?

Anyway, I know this is probably very temporary and a relapse is probably going to kick in soon, hopefully in a week or two only, but it's probably more a matter of a couple of days.

I got my Heartstopper tattoo and I'm so so happy about it. I also love my tattoo artist. What I see in her is like... a 15 year older version of myself? We happen to have quite a lot in common except she is under medication that really treats her illness well and therefore she is pretty stable and enjoys her daily life, and that just gives me hope for my own future.

Anyway, I'll try to keep this blog updated more regularly, especially because I wanna keep track of how my mental state evolves, especially since I've had a hard time focusing and remembering anything lately, and also because whenever I feel bad I get sort of "black outs" and forget :')

See you soon hopefully

xx

Update:

I posted the first part at around 3/4AM so in order to update I must do it on the same post.

Around 2AM I felt peaceful and like I was about to fall asleep but I made the very stupid decision to reply to my grandma's messages knowing it was going to take me 2 hours. So at around 4/5AM, when I finally could go to bed, I felt super anxious, I felt like someone was in the room watching like lowkey paranoid. I think I even woke up in the middle of the night hearing someone's breath but honestly it was probably just mine obviously. I think I fell back asleep and woke up again a little before 12PM.

Then I knew I really had to finish preparing my trip to England which is just under two weeks away from now but it made me so fucking anxious. I still managed and ended up taking a lot of pleasure in it! I was pretty much laughing hysterically at everything.

Then I got up to get prepared because I'm getting my 2nd booster against Covid, which I was totally chill about until I left the house and almost had a full blown crisis with tears and anxiety, which I've been trying to fight for the past hour. It's only 10 mins til my appointment. I'm not scared of the shot in itself, I'm just too unstable. I'm not even sure the vaccine in itself is the real cause of my mental anguish, I think it's mostly because I promised myself after this shot I would stop wearing my mask, which should be liberating but instead makes me feel miserable.

We're the 21st of April and it's day 3 (I think) with no medication at all. I refrain from taking anything, not even a bit of medication against anxiety.

At some point I tried to remember what I did yesterday and just couldn't for about a minute. I still feel dizzy when I walk most of the time. When I say or think about the words "death" I just wanna cry. I wish I could die to end the suffering right as I'm writing this but when I think of dying I just get traumatizing flashbacks from my dad's death.

I'm trying to sit down somewhere and collect myself because I really must not cry in front of some poor strangers working at the pharmacy. They haven't done anything to deserve to see me like this.

I am so in pain right now. I wish a doctor would listen and try to help.

[bbrissonn]

for the me or him a blurb from when bren realized he was in love with yn for the first time

under the cut!

ouhhhh okay i love this idea anon ur amazing

warnings: bren being high and drunk, slight swearing, not proofread

"bren, what's going on?" you asked as you answered your phone late at night. your eyes were barely opened as you looked over at your alarm clock, 2:01 am.

"y/n/n! hi!"

"hi, bubs." you said with a sigh, a small laugh leaving your mouth.

"i need your help." he said, and you could hear the big smile on his face, making you shake your head a bit.

"bren, it's 2 in the morning--"

"i know that, that's why i need your help, dumb dumb. i dont know where i am and uhhh i cant drive."

"why cant you drive?" you asked confused as you heard him giggle a bit on the other of the phone.

"im a little high... and drunk." he said, more giggles leaving his mouth. you sighed a bit before answering him.

"send me your location, ill come get you."

~

"bren, buddy, be careful." you whisper shouted at the boy as he made his way inside his house, clearly not caring if he woke up the others.

"i am!" he said with a laugh, holding onto the walls so he didnt fall.

"oh boy." you whispered before approaching him and helping him sit down on the stairs so you could take off his shoes.

"hey! what are you doing?" he asked loudly as you undid his shoelace.

"im just taking off your shoes, b."

"you promise you wont steal them?"

"i pinky promise." you said with a laugh as you took off one of his shoe, before undoing his other shoelace. a couple of seconds later, you heard a door open upstairs and soon someone was standing at the top of the stairs.

"what the fuck is going on?" owen asked as you took off brendan's final shoe and helped him stand up.

"y/n/n came to rescue me!" he answered loudly, making owen jump a bit as you shake your head.

"you need help?" owen asked you, ignoring brendan who was trying to wrap his arms around owen's chest to give him a hug.

"stop pushing me away?" brendan whined before grabbed his arms.

"ill be okay, you can go back to sleep." you answered with a smile before dragging brendan to his room.

"good night, big dog!"

"'night, briss."

~

the next morning, brendan woke up with a pounding headache, making him let out a groan. he looked over to his bedside table to look at his clock, when he noticed the bottle of gatorade and post it note in front of it.

morning bren! hope your doing okay :) text me when you wake up <3 also there's a bottle of advil behind your clock there wasnt any space left here and since your blind i thought itd let you know

-y/n/n

brendan didnt remember much from last night, everything after 12 am beinf blank, he had no idea how he got home. after a couple of minutes, it clicked in his head that you were the one who brought him home, making his heart skip a couple of beats.

he quickly grabbed his phone, the bright light making his head pound even more, before clicking on your contact and calling you.

"hello?"

"hi." he said, his voice all raspy. you could tell he had just woken up, making you smile a bit. 

“how you feeling?” 

“meh, been better. thanks, by the way, for, uh, coming to get me last night... i’m sorry if i woke you up.” he quickly apologized, making you shake your head a bit as you let out a soft sigh. 

“bren, it’s okay. i somewhat give a shit about you, i wouldn’t just let you out there on your own.” you joked, making you chuckle a bit. he was quiet for a bit making you a little worried. 

him on the other hand, he felt his heart completely explode in his chest from your word. he knew that mike had called you about a week ago for the same reason, along with blanks and nolan, but you had left them alone to get home. you hadn’t done this for your own brother, but you had from him. 

“bren, you okay?”

“huh? oh yeah, yeah i-- um, i’m good.” he stuttered, your voice bringing him out of his thoughts. 

“mkay. listen i have to go meet mike, but i’ll come by after, alright? text me if you need anything for your head.” you said with a soft voice, making a soft big smile appear on his face. 

“will do. drive safe.” 

“always.” you said before hanging up the phone. brendan stared at the wall at the end of his bed, his phone still up to his ear, a big smile on his voice as your word played over and over in his head. 

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