#it wasn’t even a dawning horror i saw the words and my stomach dropped

[insomnia-productions]

the worst part is that i was so excited for that subplot. and then i saw the words “year one” appear onscreen. and i Knew

[dragonmama76]

Beginnings Part 3

Sorry for the wait. A combo of writers block and life happening kept me from working on this. Hope you enjoy!

Catch up here: Part One, Interlude, Part 2

The jagged glass bottle dropped to the floor and Steve was free. He wasn’t dead.  Eddie hadn’t killed him after all.  As his senses returned he registered that there was shouting.  So much shouting.  “How dare you lay even one single finger on him!” Steve had never seen Robin so furious in their time together, not even when confronted with the Russians.  “After what you did to him…put him through!”  she was half screaming and half crying now and Steve gathered her in his arms, “Robbie, Rob, Bobbin it’s okay. Shhhhh.  Listen.  We’ve gotta get through what’s happening now.  It’s more important than anything that happened to me in high school.”  She gradually  stopped fighting and allowed herself to be held and only then did Steve manage to glance over at Dustin.  He was white as a sheet frantically looking between Steve and Eddie.  “Eddie?”  his voice cracked, “Eddie…what did you do?”  

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

Steve and Robin stared transfixed at the screen as the reporter gave few details concerning the murder of a Hawkins High student.  Steve’s stomach clenched and his first thought was for Max but the trailer on the screen wasn’t familiar to him.  It wasn’t her trailer.  Lost in his racing thoughts, he jumped as the bell over the door rang out and Dustin and Max both rushed in.  His relief was short-lived, though, as it became clear that they were looking for help to find Eddie Munson.  Of course the Freak was at the center of all this, and now his kids were getting involved.  “Maybe let the police handle this one?” Steve suggested, although he knew it was futile.  As far as Dustin went, Eddie could do no wrong.  He exchanged meaningful glances with Robin.  Her eyes were wide as she tried to sort out if it was better to help the kids or convince them to stay far away from the situation.  Steve grabbed her sleeve and pulled her aside so they could talk.  She was babbling before he had a chance to get a word in.

“Oh my God, Steve, you always said he was dangerous and I didn’t believe you.  I’m such an idiot.  Did he actually do it?  Did he actually, you know, hurt someone?  Like that?  What are we going to do?”  

“Shit, Robin," Steve shook his head, "I don’t know.  But we can’t let Dustin and Max do this alone and you know they will, so we’re going to help them and you and I are going along to keep them out of trouble.  I don’t think Munson would actually hurt Dustin, so let’s just find him and get his side of the story.  From what Max said, it sounds like this could be upside down related and if it is…well, better that we know.”

********

There was silence in the boathouse and Dustin asked again, “Eddie…what did you do?” Eddie watched in horror as Dustin’s enormous brain made those lightning speed connections.  It was like he could see the wheels turning and the horror dawning as Dustin’s worldview was rocked by Eddie’s former crimes. His dirty truth.  His eternal shame.  He was about to turn and run, where he didn’t know, maybe just straight into the lake when Steve broke in.  “Dustin, whatever you think you know right now, put it aside.  We need to know what happened to Chrissy.”  Eddie felt, rather than saw Steve shift his attention back to him even as Dustin continued to glower.  “Okay, Eddie, it's time.  Tell us what happened and don’t leave anything out.”  Something loosened in Eddie’s chest and it all came tumbling out.  Chrissy coming to his trailer looking for help.  Chrissy floating.  Her bones snapping.  Her eyes.  He knew it all sounded insane, each detail worse than the one before but the more he spoke, the more knowing the glances around him became.  

********

After dropping Dustin and Max off for the night with promises to meet up in the morning for a strategy session, he and Robin headed back to his place to crash.  Steve didn’t feel at all bad leaving Eddie in the boathouse overnight to stew in his own juices.  He could see the man was terrified, but maybe that was simply payback for all the terror he had inspired in Steve.  It felt good.  Really good.  Steve finally had the upper hand over Eddie and wondered if this was his opportunity to enact some revenge.  Saving the world notwithstanding.  That would come first.  He sat with that feeling for a minute while Robin got settled on the couch.  And then he paused.  Well, shit.  Wasn't this exactly what Eddie had done back in high school?  Was this how he felt every time he saw Steve cringe or duck into a classroom to avoid him?  That's not who Steve wanted to be.  He had flirted with the concept of bullying back when he was friends with Tommy H. and decided it wasn't for him and he had worked too hard to shed his King Steve persona to turn it back on now.  Sometimes growing older and gaining perspective sucked.  Steve thought about Eddie watching him these last few months and wondered if he had gained perspective as well.  No one should be blamed for stupid things they did at fifteen, he really believed that, so maybe he would have to forgo the opportunity for revenge until he truly saw Eddie in action.  Ultimately Steve didn’t know how to feel about the fact that he was now technically helping Eddie, but he was willing to put his feelings aside until this current crisis was resolved.  Robin, it seemed, was not.  

“Steve, you know don’t have to be a part of this.  And maybe we shouldn’t be anyway.  It’s okay if you want to leave Eddie to figure this out on his own, you know.  You don’t have to help him, especially not after everything he did to you.  When I saw him grab you…and the look on your face…I hate him, Steve.  I hate what he did to you and I don’t get why you’re being so calm about this!” Robin’s voice was verging on hysteria and Steve sighed.  He was so tired.  “Robin, I love you and I understand that you think you’re helping, but every time I tried to talk to you about this you dismissed it and I’m gonna be honest, it made me feel like shit.  So you don’t get to have an opinion on how I’m handling this right now.  I’ve been dealing with Eddie on my own for years and you’re going to have to trust me when I say that I know what I’m doing.”  

Robin’s face fell and she looked absolutely devastated.  “Steve,” she gasped, “I didn’t..I’m sorry…I…”  

“Forget it.”  Steve’s face was hard, but his voice was kind, kinder than she thought she deserved.  “Look, Robs, whatever happened, it was in the past and if I choose to move on or ignore it that’s for me to decide.  You didn’t take it seriously before and that really sucked and I guess seeing it up close and personal changed that for you and that’s great, but this is and always has been my problem to solve.”  

“Okay.”  Robin’s voice was weak, “Okay, Steve I trust you.  Of course I do.   Just….I want you to know that I get now that I wasn’t there for you in the past and that I was too wrapped up in my own assumptions and drama and I need you to know that I’m really here for you and I’m on your side whatever that means.” 

“I know, Robbie, and that means a lot.  Really.  Let’s get some sleep and we’ll figure it all out in the morning.”

********

The last couple of days had been a real mindfuck, and now Eddie watched in horror as Steve slipped beneath the surface of Lover’s Lake for the second time.  He couldn’t let Steve just die, not with everything between them so unresolved.  It was less than a minute before he was diving in after him.  Eddie was sure he wasn’t thinking straight.  What exactly was he going to do?  Maybe he could grab him and bring him back up?  But then it didn’t matter because there was no time to think and he was sucked through a hole, a gate they called it? And the lake bed was dry and then there were birds, no, not birds. Bats. Bats with no faces diving and attacking from every direction.  Steve was on the ground fighting them off and suddenly Eddie was charging in as if he had any idea how to help.  Whatever he was doing must have worked because there was a moment when the onslaught stopped and Eddie gaped as Steve bit clear through the creature wrapped around his neck.  Metal.  

Back at Skull Rock Eddie watched as Nancy carefully wrapped Steve’s wounds with makeshift bandages.  He paced back and forth knowing his mind should be on the current danger but in reality worrying over the fact that Steve could have died and Eddie would have never had the chance to clear the air.  He needed to apologize like he needed to breathe.  This was such bullshit.  Before Chrissy had floated and died he had felt so close to being able to approach Steve once and for all and beg for forgiveness and now it felt like he was starting from square one.  Maybe he needed to make a plan?  He was so good at plans, but fuck it, there was no time for a plan.  Not here, not now.  The ground shook under his feet.  Goddammit.

“Steve,” Eddie panted, trying to keep up while also avoiding the vines littering the path ahead, “Can we talk for just a second.”

“Not right now, man.” Steve avoided the man’s gaze and continued to follow the girls.

“Please, Steve, just let me say one thing and then I’ll shut up, I swear.”  Eddie pleaded, stopping for a minute to catch his breath.

“Fine.” Steve waved his hand, “One thing.  Go.”

“I…” the words caught in Eddie’s throat and he floundered as Steve rolled his eyes and turned to go and then everything bubbled to the surface and came tumbling out in a vomit of emotion.  “FUCK!  I’m sorry, Steve.  I’m sorry for everything.  The name calling, the pushing, the knife.  It wasn’t right and I was stupid and I’m just…sorry.”

Steve stood and looked at him long and hard and Eddie cringed, waiting and knowing he deserved whatever came next. 

Steve’s face gave nothing away as he sighed out, “Eddie, man, I want to believe that you are serious about being sorry, but this isn’t the time.  I don’t know what it will take to forgive you or move past this and I really can’t do this right now.  I can’t fight monsters and my own personal demons at the same time.  Truce for right now, okay?” 

 “Yeah, yeah okay.”  Eddie wanted to stop there, but he needed more, “ I just…I just don’t get why you would help me after everything I did to you.”

Eddie watched Steve grow frustrated and felt even shittier for being such a needy bastard.  “It’s not about you, Eddie, okay?  This is so much bigger than you and your problems and whatever fucked up shit you did in high school.  So yeah, I’m helping you because helping you means protecting my family.  The people I love.  And that also means protecting  everyone else in this godforsaken town.  Even you.  So for the sake of the whole fucking world, can we just pause and pretend that you never hated me and that I don’t hate you back for like 24 hours?”  

Eddie nodded and whispered, “Yes. Let’s do that. Sorry.”  As he resumed following Steve and the girls every step was punctuated by the nagging thought, Steve hates me.  Steve hates me.  Steve hates me.  He had never felt so despondent and if he didn’t owe it to Steve to help them all out of this situation he would be tempted to go ahead and disappear here in the Upside Down.  Find a place to hide and curl up and die.  A monster in a monstrous place.

*********

When Dustin cornered Steve outside Max’s trailer he wasn’t ready.  So much was happening so fast.  They needed to figure out what had happened back there with Nancy.  They needed to figure out how exactly they could keep Max safe.  They did not have to figure out Steve’s past trauma and how it affected them.  

“I cannot believe you, Steve, how could you let me just let me get involved with Eddie knowing what he did to you?  You picked me up from Hellfire, you listened to me go on and on about him and even suggest you two should be friends!”  Dustin was so angry and Steve didn’t have anything to say.  What excuse did he honestly have for keeping Dustin in the dark this whole time?

“Look Dustin, it wasn’t like that.  I mean maybe it was, I don’t know.  I didn’t want to get in the way of you having a good freshman year.  It seemed like you were okay, so I figured why mess with that?”

“No. That’s not it.  You tell me what was so important you couldn't warn me about Eddie!" Dustin pushed until Steve cracked.

All at once, Steve felt the weight of all his relationships crashing down upon him and let the words fall out, “I don’t know, all right?  I don’t know why I didn’t tell you.  I don’t know why I let you all hang around him.  It just didn’t feel right.  Everyone around me was constantly telling me what a good guy he was and I’m nothing.  I’m nobody. I'm not a nerd, I’m not cool, I’m just the goddamn babysitter and I thought if it came down to him or me that you wouldn’t choose me.”  Steve sat heavily on the ground and put his head in his hands.

“Woah.”  Dustin sat next to Steve.  “Dude.  You are not the babysitter, Steve.  You are my brother and no matter what happens that’s who you’ll always be.  Eddie might have seemed cool, but at the end of the day he’s just some guy.  You on the other hand are Steve Harrington, the most badass guy I know and nothing will ever change that.”

Steve sniffled and knocked Dustin’s hat off to tousle his hair.  “Hey man, not cool!  I’m baring my soul here so don’t mess with the hair.”  Steve laughed and pulled Dustin into a hug.  

“I’m sorry for not telling you.”  

“You want me to kick his ass for you?” Dustin looked up at Steve so earnestly that Steve thought his heart couldn’t bear it.  

“Nah, man.  Look.  It does honestly seem like he’s changed since I knew him and he’s always been good to you, right?”

“Yeah…” Dustin acknowledged.

“It’s okay.  I promise.  I don’t know if we’ll ever be friends, but I don’t want to be his enemy and I don’t think he wants to be mine, at least not anymore.  Let us work it out, okay?”  Steve steeled himself to follow his own advice.  It was time to find Eddie and end this.

********

Sitting in Max’s trailer wasn’t working for Eddie.  He needed to get out.  He needed to move.  It was the middle of the night, so if he slipped out the back it wasn’t like there would be a hoard of townsfolk with torches and pitchforks ready to grab him.  Probably.  He figured it was worth the risk.  “Uh, I’m taking a smoke break,” he muttered as he slipped out the door into the inky black night.  He heard footsteps crunch in the gravel behind him and spun around ready to run but stopped when he realized it was Steve.  

“Munson, we’ve got some downtime here so I think it’s time we talk.” 

 “Yeah.  Okay.” Eddie began, “I don’t know how many ways I can apologize without it sounding hollow, but I’m willing to grovel…”  

Steve cut in, “I honestly just want to know one thing.” 

“Oh, um, yeah, okay?”  Eddie paced nervously in front of him and waited for him to ask.  

“Why me?  What did I do to you?  I wish I could remember, but it was like you hated me on sight and I don’t even understand why.” Eddie expected Steve to be angry, but instead he looked so sad it made Eddie want to cry.

It was the question Eddie had been dreading.  But he had to fess up and he had to be totally honest.  He knew it was the only way he could ever make amends with the boy he had hurt so many times before.  

“Look, the thing is, Steve, and there’s no way to make this sound less stupid and awful, but I never really cared about who you were back then.  I had this idiotic idea that if I could make a preppy jock afraid of me that I wouldn’t get bullied at school anymore.  I picked you pretty much at random, decided you fit my profile and then executed the plan.  And the worst part was that it worked, you know?  No one bothered me ever again and it kept me and my friends safe for years.  It’s not an excuse.  There is no excuse for what I did to you and I will bear that guilt until I go to my grave.  But you should know, it was never really about you.  You were good looking and confident and rich and looked like you had it all. I didn’t hate you because I didn’t know you.  I hated what I thought you stood for.  And now that I do know you, I could never hate you.”

“When exactly was it that you flipped and decided I was someone worth knowing?” Steve asked warily, like he was pretty sure of the answer.

Eddie shrugged resigned to his fate.  “It was when Dustin and the other kids started talking you up.  They never had a bad word to say about you and…”  Eddie trailed off but Steve motioned him to continue, “They told me all about your freshman year and the problems you had…with me…which, they apparently didn’t know it was me and I can’t believe you never told them or tried to keep them away…but I had to take a good hard look at myself and I promise you I did not like what I saw.  So…for a while I tried to justify it by watching you whenever I could so I could catch you being an asshole or whatever,”  

Steve jumped in, “I KNEW you were stalking me!  Goddammit!  Robin kept trying to tell me it was a coincidence or whatever, but you were fucking everywhere!” 

Eddie groaned rocking back on his heels, “Fuck fuck fuck.  I’m sorry.  Again.  I swear to God I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.  I just…needed to see for myself and then…okay, this sounds worse and maybe it is….I got kind of invested?”  

Steve’s eyes widened, “Invested?  What does that even mean?”  

“Mmmmmm,” Eddie groaned again and tried to hide under his hair, “….you just…you’re a good guy, you know?  It was hard to look away when you were so kind and happy and bitchy, like in a good way, and just completely not what I expected.  I’m sorry.  I promise when this is all over I’ll leave you alone forever. I’ll fucking disappear if that’s what you need.  I should have left this god awful town a long time ago anyway.”  

“Okay, well, no need to banish yourself quite so soon.”  Steve sighed.  “I’m not like Mother Teresa or anything here.  I lived up to a lot of your expectations, so maybe I deserved it.”

“You didn’t.”  Eddie broke in quickly, “You didn’t deserve any of the things I did.  I mean, no one would, but especially not you.  I have a feeling if it wasn’t for me, King Steve wouldn’t have even existed.  Dustin always says he wishes you and I had been friends and if I wasn’t such a creep, maybe we would have been?”  

“I dunno, Eddie, you can say whatever you want, but I was pretty fucked up all on my own in high school in ways that I can safely say had nothing to do with you.”

“Steve, can we maybe start over?  I know I'm not worthy of a second chance, but….what the hell…”  Eddie slowly reached out with one hand, “Hi, I’m Eddie Munson.  I play the guitar and do a lot of nerd shit. I’m also currently living in a nightmare world”

Steve looked at his hand and made a split second decision, reaching out to shake, “Hi Eddie, I’m Steve Harrington.  I’m a babysitter, carry a nail bat and am very familiar with your current nightmare.”  Eddie let out a slow breath as they shook hands.  It wasn’t everything he wanted or needed, he knew Steve hadn't forgiven him and that was probably as it should be, but it was a start.

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

Part 4 coming soon (ish?) Comments and reblogs are my lifeblood so....do it?

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[slowburnwonderland]

Scraps - a Jemily fic

The team’s banter filled the small cabin, combining with the plane’s hum to create an almost lulling quality after a long case. Their teasing was both familiar and biting. Emily leaned back in her seat, letting the conversation wash over her despite her tight smile.

“Prentiss, you? Relationship material? Please,” Morgan joked, grinning as he leaned across the aisle.

“Oh, come on, you know I’m a heartbreaker,” Emily shot back with a smirk, trying to play along, even as the quip didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Rossi chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re too much of a mystery, Emily. People want stability, not secrets.”

“Yeah, statistically, no one wants to date someone who’s always got one foot out the door,” Reid added, though his tone was more conversational than teasing. Emily knew he meant well, but the words still cut.

JJ’s laugh joined the chorus, and that hurt the most. Emily forced herself to maintain the facade, but she could feel her composure fraying with each jab. The fact JJ was laughing along with them stung deeper than she’d expected. Was that how JJ saw her? Was that why JJ continued to insist their relationship was kept a secret?

“Guess I’m just too mysterious for my own good,’’ Emily said lightly, her voice just a touch strained.

But JJ noticed. She noticed Emily’s eyes flicker with something more than just amusement. Guild twisted in JJ’s stomach, the realization creeping in like a slow, dawning horror. Emily wasn’t flighty, or secretive, or unwilling to open up. Emily had done nothing but give—sacrificing pieces of herself for the tiny, pathetic scraps of attention JJ offered in return. The secret glances, the stolen touches, the whispered moments—all of it a far cry from what Emily deserved.

JJ’s mind flashed back to all the little things Emily had done, the moments she’d taken for granted.

There were the playlists Emily had made for her, filled with all of JJ’’s favorite songs – songs that somehow always seemed to match her mood or be the right mix to get her through a tough day. Emily never asked for anything in return, just sent them along with a casual text: Though you might like this.

Then there were the mornings when Emily would show up with a coffee in hand, exactly how JJ liked it. She’d drop it off without fanfare, just a quick smile before moving on with her day. She always made the blonde agent feel seen, like Emily understood her in ways no one else did.

And on those rare occasions when they shared a room during cases, Emily would always leave a nondescript sweatshirt behind—nothing flashy, just something comfortable that JJ could wear. It smelled faintly of Emily, a scent that JJ found oddly comforting in the sterile, impersonal rooms they stayed in. Emily never mentioned it, but JJ knew she did it on purpose, leaving a piece of herself behind as if to say, I’m here, even when I’m not.

The memories piled up, each one a reminder of how much Emily gave and how little JJ had returned.

The rest of the flight passed in a blur, and JJ’s mind was far from the teasing and laughter that filled the cabin. She couldn’t shake the image of Emily’s forced smile, the way her eyes had dimmed just a little more with each word.

When the plane touched down and the team disbanded, JJ found herself standing outside Emily’s door before she even realized what she was doing. She knocked, her heart pounding in her chest.

Emily answered, surprised to see JJ there. “JJ? What are you—”

JJ didn’t let her finish. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Emily asked, confusion knitting her bow.

“For… everything,” JJ admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “For not being brave enough. For hiding us. For making you feel like you’re not enough when you’re everything.”

Emily looked away, her throat tight with unshed tears. “I get it, JJ. You have a life, a family—”

“That’s not an excuse,” JJ interrupted, stepping closer. “You deserve more than this. More than me.” Emily shook her head. “But I want you. I just… sometimes I wonder if maybe the team’s right. Maybe I’m not—”

“Don’t,” JJ whispered, reaching out to take Emily’s hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t let them make you question yourself. They don’t know how incredible you are, how strong and compassionate, how you make everything better just by being there.”

Tears welled up in Emily’s eyes, and she blinked them back furiously. “Then why won’t you—”

JJ closed the distance between them, pulling Emily forward, and kissed her, soft and desperate, as if trying to make up for all the ways she’d failed Emily. For a moment, Emily melted into the kiss, clinging to JJ as if she could keep her there forever.

But then JJ pulled back, breathless. “Emily,” she began, distracted and torn, “you know we can’t-- I’m not ready to…”

Emily’s gaze softened, her smile soft and sad. “I know. I just—” she faltered, then met JJ’s eyes with a mix of courage and fear. “I just get scared sometimes.”

JJ’s heart clenched, a wave of guilt crashing over her. “Scared of what?”

Emily’s lips trembled, and she tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “That this is all it’ll ever be,” she whispered. “That you’ll never really let me in. That I’ll always just be a secret, something you have to hide.”

JJ swallowed hard, the truth of Emily’s words hitting her like a punch to the gut. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I don’t know how to do this, how to make it right.”

Emily’s eyes filled with unshed tears, and she nodded, understanding in her gaze but also a deep, aching sadness. “I know, JJ. Do you think you can just humor me for a while?”

JJ flinched at the words, the raw honesty behind them. She didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to keep hurting Emily, but she also couldn’t bring herself to let go. She didn’t know how.

“I’m sorry,” JJ repeated, but the apology felt hollow even as she said it.

Emily forced a small smile, one more tragic than reassuring. “Don’t be. I know what this is,” she murmured as she pulled JJ into her arms and began to sway in her silent living room.

JJ wanted to argue, to tell her it wasn’t just that, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Emily’s neck and let the older agent lead her in a dance as if trying to drown out the guilt that was threatening to consume her.

Deep down, JJ knew this wasn’t enough—not for Emily, and not for her. This moment, like everything else between them, was just another scrap of attention, another stolen moment that would only deepen the hurt when this exploded between them.

When they finally pulled away, JJ rested her forehead against Emily’s their breaths mingling in the silence. Neither of them spoke, both knowing there were no words that could fix what was broken between them.

[outpost51]

Tiny Scene Sunday

Dredge has consumed me im not sorry for the amount of nautical shit coming up

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Lady of the Lighthouse

Cold hands, warm heart.

My wife never knitted clothes for herself.

She painted intricate patterns with wool and formed them to my shape, and then she’d steal back her gifts after I’d worn them a few times. It was like a hug from me, she said, when I had to leave our bed in the darkness of early morning, before the sun had even shucked off its velvet covers and risen for the day. As long as she stayed safe and warm indoors, I told her, she could steal the boots right off my feet if she wanted. She was a sight, she was, but when she scrunched up her freckle-dusted nose with her smile? Captains would sink their whole fleets for a glimpse.

The things that danced in my lantern-light, feasting on whatever poor souls had missed the lighthouse and ended their journeys dashed against the rocks, weren’t ever meant for her to see. They’d take one look at her big brown eyes, wide with the innocent wonder of a fresh doe, and no amount of light would keep them from climbing right up the salt-worn stone to steal her from me. I never imagined I’d see such horrors rising from the frigid depths of the dark water, and I never wished such a thing on her either.

Someone had to keep watch in the lighthouse, though, and someone had to put more wool in her spindle, and not a goddamn soul on this earth would have convinced her to stay cooped up in that drafty house alone for months on end. She wasn’t a treasure to bury in a box beneath the sand, anyway; she could’ve lit the sea by herself if she wanted.

“Do you think they’re cold?”

Her voice nearly startled me over the railing. She settled my heart with a soft laugh so quiet it was nearly swept away by the water below. “Go inside, love, you don’t need—”

She cut me off with a huff, planting her hands firmly on her hips. A sudden gust whipped her nightgown around her ankles — she really had stolen a pair of my boots, mischievous thing. “I’ll be the judge of what I need, thank you.” Glancing back over the railing, she carried on: “They must be freezing in that water.”

“Who?” I asked, hoping she meant the sailors staining the rocks a deep crimson.

She didn’t answer, instead giving me a look that confirmed I’d been dead wrong. Dread soured my stomach. My wife kissed the salt from my cheeks and went back inside without another word.

A week later, something heavy fluttered over the railing, and I thought for one heart wrenching moment she’d gone mad. Gone over. I couldn’t bear to check.

“I hope it fits,” she whispered behind me, giddy and proud.

Sure enough, when I looked over the rail, the terrible things, previously lounging in the crags between the rocks while they waited for their next meal, were investigating the four-armed garment my wife had tossed over. The one I’d pegged as their leader — it was dappled with patches of bone-white, where the rest were dark, solid colors — figured it out first, slipping the sweater over its head and turning around and around for its comrades to see.

“Do you think they like it?”

I couldn’t live with myself if I put out that light in her eyes. “Seems so,” I replied. When I turned back to the things after watching her head back inside, the leader was staring up at me.

I kept an old pistol in the bedside drawer, just in case. It went under my pillow that night.

Just in case.

Wet thumping woke us a few hours from dawn. At first, I didn’t know what it could be — the room was as dark as always.

Then I saw their eyes shining back at me. Seven of them, smelling of low tide and so much bigger up close, were gathered at the end of our bed with dark, dripping bundles in their arms. All at once, they dropped their cargo, and all at once, they melted back into the night. We were alone when my wife lit the lamp.

Piles of sopping plants carpeted the floor.

“Oh,” she murmured. “I suppose wool wouldn’t be the best material in the water, would it?”

My wife never knitted clothes for herself.

She spun yarn from sea grass and made garments for the things that lived in the fathoms below.

[flowercrown-bard]

I was today years old when I found out that cornflowers can also be white/purple and pink.

My first instinct was to never refer to Jaskier’s eyes as being the colour of cornflowers again. My second instinct was to write this instead:

Soulmate AU

word count: ~3k

pairing: Geraskier

Content warnings: blood, injuries

The Colour of Cornflowers

Jaskier’s eyes were the colour of the sky, of the sea, of sapphires. At least that was what people said, when they tried and often succeeded in wooing Jaskier. People who had been lucky enough to have found their soulmates and foolish enough to risk that happiness for a bard who would leave them come the morning.

Geralt would never understand those people. They had something so precious, so special and they were willing to throw it away for a pretty pair of eyes.

Geralt never understood those comparisons to sky, sea and sapphire either, and not only just because he had never seen the colour of either of those things. They just sounded so… cliché. As if someone tried painfully hard to sound like a poet. And didn’t the sky change colour during the dawn or at night? Did every body of water have the same colour? And didn’t some lord or another once proudly present his differently coloured sapphires, knowing full well that Geralt wasn’t able to distinguish between them anyway?

And he never would. It wasn’t uncommon for people to never see the world in colour – soulmates were rare and it wasn’t unheard of that some people lost all sight of colour after rejecting their soulmates for whatever reason.

But all of those people could at least still hope to have the world burst into colour at some point in their lives. Unlike Geralt.

“It is a mercy,” Vesemir had said when he had explained to the frightened boys that would become witchers or die in the trials that they would lose the ability to ever find their soulmates, “that you won’t have to go through that. You won’t get distracted by searching for them. And you won’t get your hearts broken.”

Because even then, Vesemir hadn’t made them believe what everyone else accepted as fact: That witchers didn’t feel, didn’t love.

Vesemir had known better. And he had known that that didn’t change a damn thing. A witcher would fall in love all he wanted, no one would ever accept a witcher’s love.

When Geralt had been younger, he had told himself he would be different. He had thought himself a knight that would one day rescue a damsel or meet a stable boy who loved horses as much as he did. He had thought they might fall in love – for who wouldn’t want to love a hero? – and they would be happy together, Destiny and soulmates be damned.

And then he had saved his first damsel. When she had seen his face, she had screamed and vomited and passed out. And Geralt for the first time understood what Vesemir had meant when he had said it was a mercy not knowing one’s soulmate.

Whoever was cursed to be a witcher’s soulmate, they would draw back in horror once they saw the sickly yellow of their eyes – at least that was how Geralt’s eyes had been described to him – and they would reek of fear rather than of love when they realised just whom Destiny had bound them to.

No human should have to get punished with such a fate. And Geralt knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from shattering if he ever saw disgust on his soulmate’s face.

So it was better that he would never know if he ever met them. It was better that he would never see the colour of Jaskier’s eyes.

He didn’t need to anyway. People never shut up about them, after all.

Between all of those descriptions that made Geralt want to roll his eyes, there was one that somehow got stuck in his mind, no matter how he wanted to shake it off.

Cornflowers.

For some reason it sounded right. Geralt was sure a poet, or even just about any man who was better with words than him, would be able to create a beautiful and meaningful connection between Jaskier and the preciousness of gems, the ever-moving sea or the freedom of the sky or other such sappy nonsense.

But cornflowers…Jaskier had named himself after a flower, hadn’t he? And cornflowers weren’t so different from buttercups. He had heard farmers complain about them, about how difficult they were to get rid of once they had started sprouting in their fields.

Geralt’s lips had twitched upwards when he had heard that and looked at Jaskier who had returned his side-eye with a cheeky wink, as if he knew exactly that Geralt was thinking about the way Jaskier had attached himself to Geralt no matter how hard he had tried to prevent that.

He tried no longer.

He had grown used to Jaskier’s presence. No, it was more than that. He had gotten to appreciate it. To enjoy the humming and chattering. To relish in the feeling of Jaskier running his fingers through Geralt’s hair. To feel his stomach twist in anticipation when he saw Jaskier again after months spent apart.

And when they were apart, Geralt found himself looking at cornflowers, unable to stop his lips from twitching into a soft smile. He might not be able to see their colour and never would, but that didn’t change the fact that they reminded him of Jaskier and of how he hadn’t drawn back in disgust or flinch from his touch even once.

Of course it helped that Jaskier had never seen his eyes in colour either. He couldn’t have. Because if he did, then surely he would have reacted in some way. No one, not even Jaskier was that good an actor.

True, his songs about Geralt often featured descriptions of his eyes – of honey, gold and sunflowers – but Geralt didn’t need to see colours to know that those descriptions were ludicrous. Predatory, sickly, creepy. That was how his eyes were normally described. Jaskier must have just heard the word ‘yellow’ and then asked other people for other, more pleasant things of the same colour. For surely, no one who had ever seen his eyes as they really were would think of something so kind that the first time Geralt had heard it, he had to leave the room for he was sure that he wasn’t able to keep the fondness and admiration he felt in that moment out of his eyes.

Fleeing hadn’t helped, of course. Jaskier didn’t need to sing of honey-eyes or silver moonlight-hair to make Geralt’s chest clench and his fingers itch to reach out and pull Jaskier close.

A single smile from him was enough. A quiet moment shared by a fire. Laughter and bad jokes as they travelled side by side.

Witchers could love and in those moments, Geralt was more thankful that fact than he had ever been for anything else. Loving Jaskier was beautiful.

And it was the most painful and terrifying thing Geralt could imagine.

Never in his life had Geralt been as scared as he had been when he had seen Jaskier run towards him while he was in the middle of a fight. For a terrifying moment, when the griffin’s talons had hit their mark and torn deep gashes into Jaskier’s chest, he had thought this was it. This was how Jaskier died. Because of him.

But as Geralt had dropped to his knees next to him, pressing his hands against the wounds and pleading with Jaskier to stay with him, Jaskier hadn’t blamed him, hadn’t yelled at him or tried to evade his touch. Instead he had lifted one of Geralt’s hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against it, heedless of the blood sticking to them.

Jaskier’s eyes had fallen shut and Geralt’s blood had run cold.

His eyes had opened again, later, when Geralt had bandaged up his wounds and brushed his hair out of his forehead tenderly, the same way Jaskier sometimes did with Geralt’s hair when he woke up, drenched in sweat and with his heart racing from a nightmare about the trials, about the day he had lost all hope of ever finding his soulmate.

When Jaskier’s eyes had fluttered open and his face had broken into a smile so soft as if Geralt was the most beautiful sight Jaskier could imagine, Geralt had known. He could never let something like this happen again. As long as Jaskier was with Geralt, he was in danger.

But Geralt had also known that he wouldn’t be able to get rid of Jaskier – neither would he be strong enough to push him away, nor would Jaskier ever willingly go.

Not until Geralt did the unthinkable. Through friendship, through deadly injuries and insults being spat at them, Jaskier stayed with Geralt. But even he had his limits. Even he wouldn’t be able to stay with a witcher, knowing he was loved by him. By a mutant, monster, butcher.

Geralt knew it, the world knew it and surely Jaskier himself knew it too: Jaskier deserved better than someone like him, better than being loved by someone like him. Confessing his feelings to Jaskier would be the last straw that would finally make Jaskier act upon this knowledge and go find someone good enough for him. Someone who wouldn’t put him in danger. Perhaps even someone who could tell Jaskier that his eyes looked like cornflowers and see it too.

Geralt knew that saying the words would irrevocably drive Jaskier from his side. He knew the moment of rejection and disgust would forever be branded in his mind. It would be the thing Geralt would remember when he got injured on a hunt while knowing that Jaskier wouldn’t be waiting for him with a worried look and tender touches.

And yet. Geralt couldn’t bring himself to just say it. He only got one chance to tell Jaskier how he felt, and although it would end in Geralt being shattered and alone, he wanted to relish the moment, the chance to let himself believe for even just a moment that Jaskier wouldn’t push himself away.

So Geralt waited and planned. A part of him knew that he was selfish, that he was only drawing this out so that he would get to keep Jaskier by his side a little longer. Another part of him wanted it to be perfect. He wanted Jaskier to think back to Geralt and remember someone who had tried despite everything to give Jaskier a confession that he deserved.

Except, Geralt wouldn’t ever be able to give such a thing to Jaskier. He wasn’t good enough for him and neither would anything he could ever give him be.

He didn’t have poetic words or grand gestures.

A simple gesture would have to be enough. Maybe it would even help to make Jaskier leave.

It was pure coincidence that they passed the field that day. Jaskier’s hair was lighter than normal in the sun and his smile was bright and easy. Geralt let himself look at him like this one last time. Jaskier was beautiful. Too beautiful for someone like Geralt.

Geralt shouldn’t get to keep him. He had to do it. Now.

Taking a shaking breath and clenching his jaw as if that would stop his hands from trembling, he bent down and plucked the cornflowers right out of the field.

To Geralt they were different shades of grey, ranging from almost white to dark grey, but to anyone else, they would be blue. Like Jaskier’s eyes.

As much as Geralt had always told himself that it was a good thing that he wasn’t Jaskier’s soulmate, he now wished more than anything, that he would have gotten to see the colour of Jaskier’s. He didn’t need to see the world in colour. Knowing blue would have been enough.  Then he would have more than grey flowers to remind himself of Jaskier when he was gone.

“Jaskier.” His voice came out slightly hoarse and he had to clear his throat.

It was of no use. As soon as Jaskier turned around and laid eyes on the flowers Geralt held out to him, his throat tightened again.

At the same time, Jaskier’s eyes darted between the flowers and Geralt’s face, searching for something, looking almost achingly hopeful. Though for what, Geralt couldn’t tell. Perhaps Jaskier was for once silently pleading Geralt not to continue talking.

He did it anyway.

“Jaskier, I…these are for you.”

He took a step closer to Jaskier, half-expecting him to draw back. Instead Jaskier too came towards him with hesitant wonder in his eyes and took the flowers from Geralt’s hands. Their fingers brushed and the simple touch sent a jolt through Geralt. This would be the last time he would ever get to feel Jaskier’s skin against his.

“Geralt.” Jaskier sounded choked and there was a watery shine to his eyes that made Geralt’s chest tight and his now empty hands ball helplessly into fists. “Those are beautiful.”

“Like you,” Geralt said, before he had time to think and swallow the words. “Like your eyes. They – cornflowers. They look like your eyes.”

Jaskier stared at him for a long moment but he didn’t move. Geralt knew he had to say more, had to get Jaskier to turn tail and leave Geralt behind, but the words got stuck in his throat and burned like shards of glass cutting into him.

Still, as the moment dragged on, it seemed that Geralt didn’t need to say anything else. Jaskier let out a strangled sound, clearly supressing something else. Not for long, though. Not a heartbeat later, a laugh tumbled from Jaskier’s lips and once that first chuckle was out, he wouldn’t stop himself.

Ice pierced Geralt’s heart and he had to look away. For the first time he couldn’t bear to look at the way Jaskier’s face lit up as he laughed. He should have known. Jaskier was kind, but he was also expressive beyond believe. Geralt had no doubt that he would have tried to let him down gently, but it seemed that the idea of a witcher trying to be romantic was too ridiculous for even Jaskier to keep his composure.

“Oh, oh Geralt,” Jaskier said in between laughs, gasping for air and wiping away tears that had spilt free with his free hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t laugh. You’re being very sweet, it’s just-“

“I know. You don’t need to say it. I know.” Geralt interrupted, suddenly desperate not to have Jaskier say it out loud. Seeing him leave was one thing. He could still pretend that it was no different than when they separated for the winter. But hearing Jaskier outright tell him that Geralt’s feelings were a joke to him – Geralt wouldn’t be able to bear it, to have these words join the ones of hatred and disdain that he remembered whenever he lay awake at night, kept awake by self-doubt and shame.  

“Oh, I don’t think you do,” Jaskier said and his smile didn’t falter, as if he wasn’t tearing Geralt’s heart out with it. “It’s just…Geralt, I know you can’t know this, but…my eyes are blue.”

“I do know.”

“Yes, well, but these flowers aren’t. They are lovely, of course, but this one for example is very clearly pink.” He tilted his head to the side like a bird as he looked at Geralt with mirth in his eyes. “You know, it’s almost the same colour your cheeks get sometimes when I sing about you.”

A painful spike shot through his heart. The flowers weren’t blue. The one thing he had known to do to try his hand at a romantic, albeit simple gesture and he had messed it up. Of course he wouldn’t be able to do even such a simple thing. Of course Jaskier would –

His thoughts came to a screeching halt and his eyes widened as the full meaning of Jaskier’s words came crashing down on him.

The flowers were pink. Jaskier knew, he saw, that they were pink.

“You can see colours.” He had meant for it to be a question, but it came out as a bitter truth.

Jaskier’s cheeks darkened. “I…yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out.”

“Why-how long?”

Jaskier swallowed nervously and his eyes darted away for a second, before finding Geralt’s again, pleading and scared. He clutched the flowers to his chest as if he feared Geralt would tear them off his hands.

“You know how long,” he said softly, almost apologetic. “Ever since I first saw you.”

“No.” Geralt shook his head. This wasn’t- this couldn’t be. He had expected Jaskier to flee from him, to tell him that he didn’t feel the same way. He had never expected him to be cruel. “No, you don’t – You can’t be. I can’t be.”

“I’m sorry.” The apology tumbled out of Jaskier’s mouth fast enough to slur the words together and his hand shot out to seize Geralt by the wrist. The touch burned him even through his clothes. “I know you don’t like Destiny. I never should have said… I don’t want you to force you into this. You must believe me.”

Geralt’s mind went blank. It almost sounded…he shouldn’t be foolish enough to believe this. He shouldn’t feel hope burning in his chest, but the way Jaskier said it….it didn’t sound as if he himself hated the idea of being soulmates with a witcher.

“You wanted me to choose you?” Geralt asked bewildered, still unable to comprehend.

Jaskier’s eyes softened and his smile turned into something bittersweet. “That was all I had ever wanted. I always thought you wouldn’t, but now…Please don’t take this back. Don’t tell me this isn’t what you chose, just because it’s the choice Destiny wanted you to make.”

Geralt’s brows drew together. “I couldn’t care less what Destiny wants me to do.”

Jaskier’s face fell when Geralt pulled his wrist out of his grip. After a moment of hesitation, Geralt lifted his now free hand to cup Jaskier’s cheek.

Jaskier let out a soft gasp, before leaning into the touch with an unknown desperation.

“I choose you,” Geralt said, his fingers caressing Jaskier’s skin. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jaskier said urgently. “I would choose you time and time again, whether Destiny wanted me to or not.”

Geralt’s throat went tight once more. “You know I can’t see colours. You know I won’t ever be able to compare your eyes to something and know it’s what they look like.” His gaze dropped to the flowers in Jaskier’s hand. “I can’t give you flowers the right colour.”

Jaskier let out a watery laugh. He turned his head and kissed the palm of Geralt’s hand, before taking one of the flowers – perhaps a pink one, perhaps one of a different colour entirely – out of the posy and tucked it behind Geralt’s ear.

“It doesn’t matter. The colour never mattered. They are beautiful. Because they come from you.”

“You are beautiful,” Geralt echoed. “Because you are you. Colour or no.”

His hand trailed down until he was gently holding his chin, titling his head up ever so slightly.

“Jaskier?” he asked, one last hesitation, one last chance for Jaskier to choose to take his words back.

Jaskier made his choice.

He leaned forward and pressed their lips into a soft kiss.

Geralt had always known that loving Jaskier was beautiful, but in this moment Geralt learned for the first time, that nothing, no flowers and no colours could ever be as beautiful as it was being loved by Jaskier.

[nagipops]

Hello!Can I request Giyuu x wind hashira reader who is very kind and compassionate to others (even demons).She’s also a doctor who’s amazing at concocting a medicine ( just like Shinobu) and she’s also Giyuu’s best friend ( She always protect him from Shinobu insults).Thank you very much,feel free to write this if you’re comfortable❣️.Also Sanemi and Shinobu are like her real brother and sister💖)Love ya~Have a great day~💕

FEATHERLIGHT

FEATURING: giyuu tomioka!

SUMMARY: in which your reward after a poignant battle becomes your new motivation.

WARNINGS: blood/gore tw, fem!reader

A/N: loved this prompt! my apologies for this being so late; it got buried in my inbox :( thank you for being so patient, this was incredibly fun to write!

"Ara ara, Tomioka-san," your sister's lilting voice sounded from behind you as the familiar scent of flora enveloped your senses. "Having some fun with my little butterfly again, aren't you?"

"Tch." Giyuu's cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink as he swiftly dropped your arm from his grip.

Whirling around to face your sister with a scowl, you cried, "Shinobu! We were just practicing sparring, don't get any ideas!" You could feel your face begin to heat up at your teasing sister.

"Mmm," she raised an eyebrow inquisitively before poking your cheek with a slender finger. "Maybe you should get to work concocting a love potion for a certain someone..."

"That's enough," Giyuu muttered, grabbing a hold of your arm once again. "Come on, let's go practice somewhere with less Shinobu-ing and more room to spar." He cast a murderous glance over your shoulder at your older sister who was innocently waving at the two of you with the sweetest smile on her face.

You gave an exasperated sigh as your best friend dragged you out of earshot from your teasing sister. "Sorry about that, Giyuu, she really is insufferable, isn't she?"

"I'm just lucky you didn't get the same personality as her," he mumbled from up ahead as you navigated through tangled branches and boulders. “Her teasing is relentless.” Although his straightforward words must not have meant much to him, who always says what he truly thinks, they warmed your heart. You made him feel lucky.

“She’s only kidding, you know. She only teases people she really loves.” Taking a deep breath of the cool forest air, you recalled the countless times your older sister had been there for you, training you to create antidotes for all sorts of poisons, fighting off demons for you during perilous missions, and teaching you that the best way to get through a tough situation is to have a smile on your face.

She really did love you, more than anyone you knew. And you returned that love for your only sister.

All of a sudden, the raucous, persistent cawing of a crow circling above interrupted your nostalgic thoughts.

You immediately extended an arm, creating a perch for your Kasugai crow to land on. “What is it, Jiyu?” You soothingly stroked the ebony bird’s soft feathers, receiving grateful beady eyes in return.

“Caw! Sightings of demons reported in the forest in the South! Forest of the South! Wind and Water Hashira, report to the area immediately! Caw!” the crow screeched, tensing its sharp claws on your arm for a second before swiftly darting off into the sky.

You locked eyes with Giyuu, giving him a determined nod before dashing off to the forest in the South.

“There,” Giyuu whispered harshly, directing your gaze to the hulking demon less than ten meters away from you. The two of you were concealed behind a thick tree trunk as you scouted out the clearing, watching as the gigantic monster trundled around the glade.

A bloodcurdling shriek pierced through the air just then, instantaneously cutting off as soon as it sounded. You exchanged a look of horror with your blue-eyed partner, a pool of dread forming in your stomach.

A human life lost...

Heart aching, you sent a quick silent prayer to the gods above.

So many of those screams you have heard, so many lives lost to those demons. Those demons who are forced to live such a cruel, hatred-filled life.

Steeling yourself, you and Giyuu stealthily wove through trees and branches, nearing closer and closer to the demon ahead of you.

Their terror must end here.

The grotesque creature was no more than twelve feet away from you, snarling vilely as it searched the area for any humans. Laying in a bloody heap near its feet was the tiny body of a girl who couldn't have been older than six or seven years old. Stinging tears threatened to spill from your sorrowful eyes as you realized that could have been you many years ago had your siblings not rescued you from that demon.

Demons-- humans, just like you and Giyuu, who were forced to suffer the consequences of heir own unlucky fate. You became a pillar of the Demon Slayer Corps in order to help free these misunderstood creatures from their agony, and reunite them with their lost past. But their sins as demons could not go overlooked.

"Tomioka-san," you whispered to your best friend who was eyeing the drooling monster in front of you, hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sheathed sword. "You take care of the demon, I'll retrieve the girl and see if her life can be salvaged. Understood?"

He only nodded curtly in response, swiftly unsheathing his hefty blade with no more than a minute clink before teleporting to a lofty nearby branch. You remained hidden behind the thick tree trunk, watching Giyuu's fingers closely for a sign to commence the operation.

Giyuu tended to strike from behind with the advantage of the element of surprise, so you watched and waited for the demon's back to turn to him, flipping through your various concoctions stored in the tiny bag on your hip.

You waited, and waited, and waited...

Giyuu's thumb straightened out.

Immediately you were on top of the girl, analyzing all of her vitals and arriving at a diagnosis in a split second: she was still alive.

Injecting serum after serum and stitching up open wounds as the metallic clinks and crashes of battle surrounded you, you snuck glances at how your best friend was faring in combat. The demon appeared to be a formidable opponent, as it wasn't decaying into ashes just yet.

You felt trembling movement from underneath your steady hands.

"Gh..." A bubble of blood spurted from the tiny girl's crusted lips. Retrieving a vial of hydration from your pouch, you quickly wiped off her mouth and held it open as you poured in the refreshing liquid.

"Hello there, thank you for being strong." You hovered over your wounded patient, smiling softly. "I am the wind hashira, and we're here to exterminate the demon that hurt you. You're going to recover in no time, alright?"

The child squinted painfully at you, attempting to reorient herself in her unfamiliar surroundings. "Wh... where am I? Where’s my older brother?”

"The forest in the South." The sun was beginning to rise, but it was too dangerous to leave the injured victim out in the open clearing. “Your brother is…”

A wounded cry rung through the air just then, snapping your attention to the fight a few feet away from you. Your heart plummeted to the pit of your stomach as you saw Giyuu's haori stained in fresh blood, pooling from his chest. He was staggering about, body heaving from the effort to control his breathing as he stared down the demon with venomous eyes. The creature only responded with a warbled cackle as he lunged for your best friend once again.

And you were on top of it in an instant, slicing the wisteria-injected needle-like tip this way and that, targeting the weak points of the demon’s body that Shinobu taught you of which would allow for quicker absorption of the venom. You darted around in such a frenzied blur that the creature could barely even blink before you appeared in front of Giyuu, shielding him from his tormentor.

“(Y/N), I— I was fine…” He clutched a hand to his crimson-stained chest.

“Tomioka-san, you’re bleeding very badly. I couldn’t leave you to get hurt.” You spotted the girl in the middle of the clearing, sitting up and looking around the area with curiosity. Glancing briefly over your shoulder, you assessed what would be the best move for both of them. “Are you able to move?”

“I’ll go help the girl. You— hck… you take care of this.”

A smile formed on your lips as he dashed away at the synchronization the two of you always shared. It was like you could read each other’s thoughts.

A pained howl snapped you back to reality as the demon in front of you seized and whined in pain as the poison began to kick in. One of the only differences between you and your older sister was that you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy at the elongated suffering your fighting technique brought upon your target in their final moments before death.

What did they think of? What were they feeling? Who did they want to cry out for?

The demon thrashed once before every single muscle in their body froze, and their mutated body dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. You stepped closer to them, locking your apologetic eyes with their four frightened ones as they trembled in fear.

Lightly tracing their gnarled neck with the edge of your sword, you whispered, “I’m sorry. Please cross over safely, where your loved ones will await you.” You pressed the blade into their neck, various crimson fluids spilling out—

“Si… ster…”

You stopped.

Flakes of gray skin began to crumble away.

“Where… little sister…”

Your thumping heart froze in your chest.

The body in front of you continued to disintegrate.

“I’m… so sorry…”

It burned and burned and burned, until smell of ash and death was all that remained of the little girl’s older brother.

The glade was enveloped in the warm, glittering glow of dawn as the shimmering rays of sun trickled in through the thinning treetops.

A pair of kakushi had escorted the little girl away, who had been blubbering with tears as she was dragged away from the remnants of her demonized brother.

You knelt before your best friend now, applying an abundance of salves and bandages to his battered chest with a numb buzzing rushing through your veins.

“… Okay?”

You snapped back into reality.

“(Y/N), you’re out of it… are you okay?”

Your eyes latched on to Giyuu’s, who was gazing up at you from your lap with a concerned look.

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Family.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to keep your tears at bay, nodding softly.

A weight lifted off of your thighs as you wiped at your cheeks, when you suddenly felt arms wrapped tightly around your trembling body.

Eyes snapping open, you realized that Giyuu was hugging you.

“Giyuu—”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt.”

The labored, uneven breathing near your ear disputed that statement.

A single tear slipped down your cheek.

“Giyuu… let me take care of you. Please.”

“No. You need it more than I do.”

Arguing with him was useless, and you were so exhausted.

So you let him hold you.

And then he kissed your cheek.

It was only a soft, featherlight peck.

But it was your new motivation to fight.

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! have a lovely day everyone <3

[silkenstarlight]

blackbird's lullaby

Summary: After a rough day, Bucky can’t sleep. Reader decides to help.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning/s: a bit of angst in regards to Bucky’s past, but the end is fluffy and sweet :)

Word count: 2.1k

Author’s note: something possessed me to write this instead of working on my finals, so here, enjoy the fruits of my academic negligence lol

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Do not repost or translate! Reblogs and comments are welcome and encouraged :))

Bucky’s side of the bed was cold when you woke.

You sighed deeply, wrenched from the arms of a dream, rubbing the heavy, lulling tug of sleep from your eyes. You were half awake, toeing the line between the violent brightness of a dreamscape and the hazy, blurred shadows of your bedroom. The warmth of the blankets wrapped around your limbs and threatened to pull you under again, but before you could succumb to their soft, enticing tangle, a singular thought rose in your mind from the murky depths of sleep. At first, it was quiet, a hushed voice in your brain whispering to you that you were alone. But then, the concern gained traction, and it blared in your skull with a deep, unnerving clarity, a nagging insistence that made your eyes snap back open.

Where the hell was Bucky?

You sat up in bed and looked at the alarm clock on your nightstand. 2:46 AM.

You frowned, turning to face Bucky’s empty pillow, and reached a hand out, lightly tracing the crisp, untouched folds. The sheets on his side of the bed were still flat and pristinely tucked, his pillow perfectly fluffed. He hadn’t bothered to try to sleep.

You knew why.

You peeled back the blankets and shivered, met instantly with the deep chill of night air as you unfolded yourself from your fleece and goose-down cocoon.

Bucky preferred to keep the apartment cold. You obliged, of course, bundling up in endless sweaters and blankets as he opened the windows wide and turned the rotary fan on full blast. You never questioned him about it, never asked if you could dial up the thermostat just a few degrees. You knew that keeping the apartment cold helped him to avoid the dreaded space of sleep, helped him to outrun the ever-looming specter of his nightmarish past. And, whenever he did come to bed, he gave you all of the blankets, covering his body with just the thin cotton layer of a bedsheet.

You knew that he rarely fell into a deep, nourishing slumber, so you tried to help boost his energy in other ways. Big, steaming pots of the strongest coffee you could brew, a fridge stocked with healthy snacks, and daily morning walks around the neighborhood together. He quietly thanked you for your efforts, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead and leaving fresh flowers in the vase on the kitchen table every Sunday. But, even though he preferred to stay awake, whenever you rolled over in bed to snuggle into his side and found that his eyes were still wide open, a hard lump rose in your throat and a worried pit formed in your stomach.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed and put on your slippers, grabbing one of Bucky’s sweatshirts and shrugging it on as you padded out to the kitchen. You just wanted to check on him and make sure that he was okay.

When he had returned from his mission earlier in the evening, he had seemed a little off to you. Usually, he was quiet, preferring to listen to you as ranted about your stressful workday or gushed about the newest book you were reading. He never wanted to talk much about himself, silently refusing to drag the horrors of his work into your home. It was where he felt at ease-- the plush pillows, the diffused, ambient lighting, the cloying scent of vanilla candles-- it was all so you. He didn’t want to taint the safety and warmth he felt when he was surrounded by your essence with the cold uncertainty and lingering shame of his work. Even though his missions nowadays were usually unrelated to his past as a clandestine Hydra operation, and even though the two jobs differed vastly in motive, he sometimes felt the creeping prick of deja vu traveling up his neck. Follow this person. Disable that vehicle. Shoot this opponent.

All of the lights in the apartment were off, so as you approached the kitchen, you used the bright white glow of your phone screen as a flashlight. You didn’t want to go directly to the living room and make it too obvious that you were checking on him. He would just shake you off if you did, insist that you go back to bed. So, you reached into the cupboard above the sink and grabbed a glass, turning on the faucet and filling it as you peered over the countertop, trying to pick out Bucky’s rigid frame amongst the inky shadows of the living room. You turned off the faucet and brought the glass to your lips, swallowing a couple of small sips.

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” The sound of Bucky’s voice coming from the couch made you jump, the thick glass of your cup clacking against your teeth. You placed it in the sink and walked over to the couch.

Despite the low light, you could see that Bucky was still wearing the clothes he had on when he came home from his mission. Gray tee, leather jacket, dark jeans. He hadn’t even taken off his heavy black boots.

You stepped slowly towards him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, fighting the urge to bury him in a hug and pepper him with kisses. Instead, you sat next to him, leaving a little space between your body and his. Now, you could see his clenched jaw, his jittery, tapping fingers, and the jumping vein in his neck that only pulsed when he was stressed. His gaze was fixed on some indeterminate point on the wall in front of him, as if he were lost in thought.

This wasn’t a normal sleepless night. Something was wrong.

“I… I guess that I should be asking you the same question,” you said softly, voice gravelly and low from sleep.

He didn’t respond, just took a sharp inhale that made it sound like he was staving off tears.

You couldn’t help it. It was like your body could sense his distress. Your hand jerked up to rest on his shoulder, a subconscious reaction to his apparent suffering. You let it stay there, though, stroking your thumb lightly along the cool leather of his jacket.

He stirred from his reverie and turned to look at you. It was so dark, the curtains shut tight, not a single ray of moonlight filtering into the room, but the blue of his eyes shone bright, glistening with the wet sparkle of unshed tears. Sadness swelled in your chest.

“You can tell me,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m here to listen.”

His gaze dropped from your face, silently weighing your words. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you enough to open up. The truth was that he didn’t trust himself to speak. If he started talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. And then, his demons would be given a voice, and the doors to this vanilla-scented, blanket-swathed haven would be wrenched open to the darkness that waited for him beyond the threshold.

But he could also see the way that his silence affected you. You frowned more on the mornings after he didn’t come to bed. You talked and talked and talked, trying to fill his ears with noise to distract him from the numbing static in his skull. And you were constantly touching him in some way, whether twining your lithe fingers around his thumb or draping your body on top of his in a warm, crushing hug. It was as if you didn’t want to let him out of your sight.

So, he let out a long exhale and reached up, taking your hand from its perch on his arm and twining his fingers tightly with yours. He idly stroked your palm with his thumb and decided to tell you the truth.

“I… I had a bit of a setback tonight.” He felt like he was wrenching the words from his throat. He couldn’t look at you, a deep sense of shame settling into his bones, but he stared at your hand held in his and felt the creeping self-doubt hesitate just a little.

“What do you mean?”

He dragged his eyes up to yours, blinking nervously. “I, uh--” he inhaled sharply and felt tears prick at his eyes. “Someone used my trigger words tonight. And it worked.”

Silence lay heavy between you as you digested what he said, but you didn’t pull away, didn’t pry your hand from his. You simply held his gaze.

“How is that possible?” He had gone through years of extensive mental treatment in Wakanda, the emotional scars that he suffered after years of lost identity and unwilling servitude seemingly healed. But, now, it seemed that one of those scars had re-opened.

“Ayo said that it was unlikely, but that it could happen. Relapse is a part of the process.” His voice was pained.

You nodded slightly, assenting to Ayo’s expertise. But Bucky’s next sentence made you fall apart at the seams.

“I thought I was different, after all these years. But I guess I haven’t changed. I’m still him.” He spat the last word, his face creasing into an expression of disgust.

You didn’t hesitate. “Come here.”

You gently separated your hand from his and reached up to his shoulders, guiding him towards you in a tight embrace. You wrapped your arms behind his neck and he pressed his chin into the notch between your shoulder and neck. As you began tracing your fingertips along his jacket collar, his chest heaved in desperate inhales, slow tears tracking down his cheeks developing into full, wracking sobs.

“You’re safe. I won’t let you go.” You pressed your mouth against his temple in a soft, soothing kiss.

“You were never him.” Although your voice was barely a whisper, it spoke volumes, your words ringing clear and true in the quiet stillness. Bucky shuddered, squeezing you close. You moved one of your hands up to cradle the back of his head.

You stayed like that for a long time, until you saw the blue light of dawn trickle through the gap beneath the curtains, but you didn’t say anything, waiting for Bucky to say what he needed. When his breath finally stilled into a regular rhythm, no longer halting and ragged, you pulled back and took his face in your hands, staring deeply into his eyes.

“I’m so tired.” His voice was flat and broken, but when you wiped a stray tear from his cheek with your pinkie, a small, grateful smile formed on his face.

You nodded. “Well, I know what will help. Come here.” You pulled back, shifting down the couch, guiding him with you with your hand wrapped around his arm. When he had enough space to lie down, you stopped, settling into your seat. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether he could risk falling asleep in his current emotional state, but he sighed, knowing that he needed to rest. He laid back, resting his head on your lap, and looked up at you.

You carded your fingers through his short hair, brushing it back from his forehead. He melted into the gentle gesture, relaxing into the couch, into the warmth of your body.

And then, you began to sing.

You were quiet at first, as if trying out the thought of singing him a lullaby. Your voice was tentative, trying out the feeling of the different notes in your mouth.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,

Take these broken wings and learn to fly.

All your life,

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.”

You thought that your voice was nothing special, your untrained, warbling syllables rushing from your lips in a breathy exhale. But Bucky loved it. The way you let your words flow together, followed by a long, lilting end note and a pause to inhale-- it was sweet and soft and so very you.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see.

All your life,

You were only waiting for this moment to be free.”

He could feel it already, the lull of an encroaching dream. His first instinct was to fight it, to blink the sleep from his eyes, but he let his lids shut, blocking out every sense except for the sound of your voice.

“Blackbird fly, blackbird fly,

Into the light of a dark black night.”

And, as he welcomed the embrace of sleep, your voice followed him, a glowing amber halo of warmth that pushed the dark away and lit his path into the space of dreams.

“All your life,

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.”

He dreamt of blackbirds and forehead kisses, of vanilla candles and forgiveness.

He dreamt of you.

[nyx-aira]

Hi! I was thinking of a young Agatha Harkness x reader fic//one shot where after her fight with the coven, Agatha finds a cottage in the woods to wait out the aftermath, but it turns out reader lives there? I love your work btw!

End my suffering

Requested by @booklovinbi and @midnight-lestrange

Request #2: Hey, can you please do where y/n has kinda the same powers as Wanda, but her color is blue, and she has a fight with Agatha (for who she has feelings, because they were getting close/same for Agatha) During the fight y/n loses and maybe gets seriously injured and waits Agatha to kill her, but instead Agatha kneels and carry her back home, where she takes care of y/n. In the end Agatha kisses y/n and then Agatha is ready to leave but y/n takes her hand and pulls closer for the kiss. Could you write it?

Summary: Agatha is accused of breaking the rules of the coven. As things spiral out of control she injures you badly. What is she going to do now?

A/N: I mixed your requests, I hope that was alright. I didn't follow them exactly but I still hope you like them. Also thank you so much for 200 followers guys, you're amazing.

TW!: Angst, mention of violence, brief mention of blood, brief description of injuries (let me know if I need to add anything)

Tag list: @escapetodreamworld @midnight-lestrange @king-star @ynscrazylife @booklovinbi @mysticfalls01 @adorkwithaplan

The coven had been your home as long as you could remember, growing up there and learning magic as the town folk had cast you out after they killed your mother, falsely accused of witchcraft, it was quite ironic if you thought about it, sending the one away that was actually a witch. You owed the coven your life and you were endlessly grateful for that, loyal until death.

That's why you didn't question it when you were told to meet up by the waterfalls at midnight. Waiting with your sisters you heard her before you could even see her, pleading with the witches dragging her through the forest, fear clearly visible on her face, Agatha. She was brought onto the platform and bound to the stake, magic bonds restricting her movements. Struggling she looked around, scared, terrified. You hid your face under your hood, averting your gaze, you didn't like this but you had faith in the head witch, believing there must be a good reason for this.

And so the trial began.

"Agatha Harkness, are you a witch"

"Yes I am a witch."

She still struggled against her bonds, fear visible on her face but there was something in her voice, something that made your skin crawl and hands shake.

"Yet you have betrayed your coven."

You gasped at that, growing angry, how dare she betrayed your sisterhood. Revealing yourselves you caught her gaze, shock and hurt crossing her features as she recognised you but you only sent her an icy glare.

"I have not."

"You stole knowledge above your age and station, you practiced the darkest of magic."

"I know..I know nothing of these crimes."

She was becoming desperate, you could hear it in her voice, pleading with the head witch for her to believe her.

"I..I swear it."

"Enough deception!"

At these words Agathas demeanour changed, she stopped struggling against her bonds, straightening up to her full height, all the fear gone from her face, replaced with something you could only identify as pride.

"I did not break your rules. They simply bent to my power."

At this she smirked, watching with delight as the faces of your sisters fell in shock, bathing in the feeling of recognition and fear. You stared at her, unbelieving of what she just said. You knew Agatha, you knew her very well, she was power-hungry and malicious but you could have never fathomed that she'd ever do something like this. Seeing your shocked expression she straightened up a little bit more, the mischievous glint in her eyes glowing brighter.

With a nod of the head witch your sisters began chanting, slowly at first, growing louder every second.

Agathas confident smirk vanished at that, getting replaced by tremendous fear as she realised what was about to happen.

"Wait.."

Her pleas were ignored as they continued the chant. Feeling the familiar rush of magic surge through your body you focused on the task at hand, ignoring the little voice in your head that told you to stop, not wanting Agatha to get hurt.

"No. I can’t control it! I..."

The chanting grew louder, drowning out the desperate cries of the chained witch.

"If only you would teach me! Help me! Please!"

Agatha tried to catch your eyes, you could feel her staring at you, her desperate cries making your heart clench in doubt, a single tear running down your face. Your feelings threatening to break your concentration you pushed them away, ignoring the pain it brought you.

"Mother, please."

You looked up at these words. Mother. You didn't know that. Hadn't been aware that Agatha was the daughter of the head witch. Dread started to settle in the pit of your stomach, you knew how this was gonna end and you found it hard enough already to even think about it. But Agatha was her daughter....

"Please! Mother!"

Ignoring the desperate cries of her daughter the head witch join in the chant. Horror manifested on Agathas face, screaming for help, pleading, but nobody listened to her. It dawned to her that this was the end, she was gonna die.

"No!"

A guttural scream tore itself from her body as she was blasted with the spell. Screaming her lungs out, her cries so loud they must be heard from miles away, her body shaking under the force of the energy, knees buckling, only the chains holding her in place.

Tears streaming down your face as you continued to focus your energy on the screaming witch, the sounds of her agony making you sick, you never wanted this. But your loyalty was to the coven, no matter how hard it made your heart ache and break in two.

You realised something was wrong when you saw the frightened look on her mother's face.

Agatha grunted, her pained screams turning into something else, the blue energy turning purple, capturing you and your sisters, holding you in place. Agatha looked around, seemingly surprised at the new development, her face changing from agony into something more sinister, something more Agatha.

You felt her magic hit you as you screamed out in pain, falling to the ground, ending the chant in an instant. You robbed away on your knees, coughing and panting, your whole body felt like it was burning and you had trouble breathing, everything becoming a blurry mess.

You couldn't see what was happening but judging by the pained screams of your sisters and the dark magic in the air it wasn't good. You groaned, getting up to your knees, a scream getting stuck in your throat when you looked into the dead face of one of your sisters, her lifeless corpse laying in front of you. Scared you looked around to see all of them dead, turned into corpses, no more than rotten flesh and bones.

Your head whipped around when you heard another scream. Looking at the scene that played in front of you, you saw mother and daughter facing each other.

Agatha was getting burned by her own mother. The head witch flying high in the air, focusing all of her energy on Agatha, trying to kill her. But it wasn't working, the blue energy turned purple, the head witch grunting as she started to crumble, turning older until her corpse hit the floor, the lifeless body dropping down not far from you.

You watched as Agatha looked at her hands, seemingly surprised by the sheer power of her magic. Shrugging it of she grasped the end of her dress as she ascended the stairs of the podium, looking like the dark goddess she was.

You held your breath as she crouched down in front of her mother, taking the brooch from her neck and pocketing it. She got up to leave when she caught a glimpse of you, still moving, alive. Her face darkening she marched towards you, hands igniting with purple magic, eyes pitch black and full of hatred, she was angry.

Your eyes widened in horror as she stalked towards you, frantically trying to get up. Your head was pounding, everything was spinning and you just felt sick. You're whole body burning like it was on fire but at the same time shivers rocked your limbs, making it impossible to move, not taking your trobbing leg and hurting ribs into consideration. It was quite possible that you had broken a couple of bones when you were slammed against the tree. Your head was starting to ring as you tried to stay conscious, the pain intensifying, you felt like you were burning on the inside, your body aflame.

In an weak attempt to protect yourself you tried to bring up an energy field, a spike of agony shooting through you as you tried. It felt like you were being ripped apart, your magic attacking you, hurting you. A feral scream tore itself from your throat, tears blurring your vision even more, feeling something drip down your nose you realised it was blood. The torturous sensation continued to move through your body, stealing your breath, making you feel like your organs were torn apart.

Black spots started to appear on your vision and you dug your nails into your thighs, trying to stay awake, trying to distract yourself from the hell you were going through. It wasn't working, the pain becoming too much you let out another strangled gasp, forcing some air into your lungs, everything was on fire, your body burning from within.

You didn't realised you were crying, tears mixing with the blood on your face, you couldn't take it anymore.

You heard footsteps move in your direction. In your pained agony you somehow managed to open your eyes, recognising the familiar silhouette of Agatha and her purple magic.

You stared at her for a long time, laying bloodied and bruised on the ground, dying. You took all of your strength to say the next words, feeling like knives slit your throat as you did.

"Please...just end my suffering..please.."

You pleaded with the other witch, your voice nothing more than a whisper, bringing you immense pain just from speaking. You wanted it to end, you couldn't take it anymore. Waiting for Agatha to bring you mercy you didn't realise she was crying, crouching in front of your broken body, not knowing what to do.

She had hurt you, she had done this to you, it dawned to her. Horror prominent on her face, this was her doing. Agatha let out a wrenched sob, clutching her chest, this was her fault, she had hurt you, had cursed you.

And now you were so scared of her that you were pleading with her to kill you, seeing it as the only option.

In your fragile state you realised that she was moving towards you, expecting the final blow you shut your eyes, praying that your pain would end.

Instead you felt gentle fingers on your forehead, soothing your pain and caressing your face. You instinctively leaned into the touch, seeking the feeling of calmness and peace that emitted from Agatha. She carefully turned you around, pulling your head in her lap, laying her hands on your chest she began chanting a spell you weren't familiar with, purple glow surrounding both of you, a familiar feeling surging through your body. The pain became less prominent, the feeling of burning up inside turning more into a fever than actually hurting you. Your head cleared up as well, still fuzzy but you could form a coherent thought again without screaming in agony.

After what seemed like an eternity the purple glow faded, leaving you exhausted, tired and still in a lot of pain, groaning as you felt your definitely broken ribs.

Agatha laid a soothing hand on your cheek, whispering comforting words as she shifted her position, a jolt of pain moving through your body at that. She apologised immediately and in your hallucinating state you could have sworn she pressed a short kiss on your cheek.

Gently hoisting you up she picked you up bridal style, whining at the movement your head lolled to the side, burying it in her neck.

The last thing you remembered was Agatha tightening her hold on you and the rush of wind, then everything went black pulling you into blissful nothingness.

When you woke up everything hurt, your head was ringing, your chest was hurting and you were sore, everywhere. You groaned, trying to sit up but a gentle hand pressed you back down, the scent of lavender and magnolia hitting your nose. You abruptly open your eyes, staring at Agatha who sat perched on the edge of your bed, still holding your hand, a concerned look on her face. You looked up at her in panic and saw silent tears running down her cheeks, her lip quivering.

"I'm so sorry angel."

You wanted to answer her but your voice was raspy and it just hurt using it, in fact everything hurt, making you feel tired and exhausted.

Agatha passed you a glass of water, gently holding your head as you greedily gulped down the liquid, spilling a little bit on the covers. She placed the glass back on the nightstand and checked your head for your fever, sighing in relief as it had gone down significantly the last couple hours.

Starting to shift in bed you let out a horrified gasp as you saw your body. You were only wearing a long linen top and the sight that greeted you was horrifying. Your whole torso was covered in cuts and bruised, bandages wrapped around your chest and left leg, your skin a mix between blues and purples.

"I tried to heal as much damage as I could, love, you have to believe me but even my magic has its limits, I'm so so sorry."

You could hear the sadness in her voice, the guilt and the pain at seeing you like that. Agatha was devastated and she didn't try to hide it.

The next days passed in a similar manner. Agatha taking care of you, making you food, reminding you to drink and changing your bandages. You still didn't know where you were or how exactly you got there but as you could barely move from the bed you decided that answering these questions could wait.

You were still very weak, dizzy spells hitting you out of nowhere and your limbs still sore. You were tired all the time, spending most of the day either sleeping or somewhere between conscious and the alluring darkness that sometimes threatened to overcome you.

Agatha was at your side most of the time, not comfortable with leaving you alone since you had passed out on day three, giving her a major scare. She would often sit by your side, reading some kind of spell book or practicing some easy spells. Her presence had a calming effect on you, her magic pulsing through the air and sparks of it landing on your skin. It felt different than before, darker, more powerful but not with an ill intent behind it. It was more of an old friend, welcome you back, it was alive and dangerous and you found yourself more often than not captivated by the powerful witch next to you, weaving spells through the air, her dark magic singing to you.

Your magic had changed as well, what had been blue energy before was now orange with a hint of pink. You didn't understand it, neither did Agatha but something had happened, something had changed inside of you, inside both of you and it was showing.

It was another stormy afternoon, rain hitting the windows and wind howling outside. You were feeling better now, able to walk around the cabin which was located in a part of the forest you've never been before. You're broken bones had been healed completely, curtsey of Agatha who had been going through all the spell books available to find the right healing potion. The dizzy spells were gone as well but the darkness lurking in the corner of your mind, luring you to follow it was still there, still prominent and it was tempting. Your magic did not return to its original colour, it also changed in its appearance, more of glowing whisps than the crackling blue energy it was before. You also felt different, more aware, more awake and most importantly, you could feel Agatha. Her emotions and feelings, tickling the corners of your mind. She was a mess. Guilt and sadness still dominant, feeling responsible for you. There was also something else, something you couldn't decipher but it left you feeling lighthearted and giddy.

You were sitting by the window seat reading one of Agatha’s spell books, more complicated than any spell book the coven had ever allowed you to read, you found out that you liked Agatha’s method of learning way better. Trying out a new spell the coral mist weaved around your hands, turning into an energy ball and then back into the unassuming whisps that always followed you around. You couldn't stop it and Agatha didn’t know why either. You figured you didn't mind, it was as if your magic was protecting you, always following you around if the need to defend yourself should arise. Putting the book back on the shelf you looked around your little cabin, it had become your home in the last few weeks, deeply hidden in the forest, surrounded by so many protecting spells you had lost count. You liked it here, the quiet of the forest and the closeness to nature, it was peaceful.

Agatha was out collecting some herbs and flowers, you had offered to go with her but she was still fussing over you, always making sure you were okay, having her hands on your body in any way, shape or form. Holding your hand while you were sitting together and reading, sitting close to you when you were having lunch, her leg brushing up against yours, an arm around you if you were taking a small walk, almost as if she'd expect you to fade out of existence this very moment. You didn't mind if you were being honest, you liked the way she cared about you, like she genuinely cared for you. It made you feel all fluttery and giddy but you dismissed the feeling as just being happy you weren't alone.

Roaming around the cabin you searched for something to pass the time as you waited for Agatha to return. Settling for reading some poetry you walked back to the window seat, tucking your feet unter your body you started reading, listening to the sound of raindrops hitting the windows as the rain started to get heavier.

You didn't hear the door open or Agatha stepping inside, too focused on your poems. That's why you let out a shrill shriek as you felt her cold hands on your neck. You whipped your head around to see her smiling down at you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. You both started laughing and had to take a moment to calm down again.

Wiping tears out of your eyes you looked at her, the rain had made her hair somewhat curly, a rosy tint to her cheeks from the cold outside, her hooded cape hiding most of her dress and corset. You found yourself lost in her baby blue eyes, the colour reminding you of the stormy sea and the rainy sky, you were mesmerised by her beauty. Shaking your head you came back to reality, Agatha looking at you with the same look she had on her face every time she looked at you. There was this feeling again, the feeling you couldn't decipher, not even with your newfound powers.

"What are we making for dinner today?"

Your voice seemed to snap her out of her thoughts and she took of her cape, placing the basket with flowers and herbs on the counter. She had also brought some vegetables from your little garden outside the cabin. You've always had a green thumb and magic didn't limit you to seasonal vegetables and berries which was useful if you were living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Walking over to the fireplace you looked at what you had to work with, Agatha stepping right behind you, her hand draped around your waist.

"See something you can work with hun?"

The nickname made you blush as you sorted through your ingredients, seemed like today's dinner was gonna be vegetable soup and some of the bread you had made a couple days ago.

While Agatha was magically cutting vegetables you were hearing the fireplace, lighting it with a flick of your hand, the coral mist protecting your hands from the orange flames. Preparing dinner together you and Agatha whirled around the kitchen, the other witch always touching you in some way, whether that was her just "passing by" or needing something from behind you, brushing your hand when she passed you something. Her actions made you smile, the fluttery feeling returning to your stomach and you couldn't brush it of as easy anymore.

As you waited for the soup to finish you cleaned up the kitchen and Agatha set the table, moving plates and glasses through the air, the familiar feeling of her magic present. You felt two arms wrap around you waist and you gasped in surprise as you felt her warm body pressed against your.

"Take a seat dear, I'll handle the rest."

Ignoring your protests she stirred you to the table, pulling out a chair for you and making you sit down. She squeezed your hand and gave you a short kiss on the head, rubbing your arm as she continued to clean the kitchen, making a show out of it to make you laugh.

You were wheezing from her dance number with the broom, Agatha dramatically giving a bow in your direction and shooting you a not so subtle wink.

She brought over the tray with the soup and bread, the tray floating besides her as she gracefully took a seat, placing down the food in front of you.

She was telling you about her walk in the woods, how she had seen a baby fox and the beautiful flowers she found near a cliff. You were mesmerised by her voice, wanting to listen to her for hours, just hearing her talk made you feel at peace. Made you feel at home.

As the sun set the two of you moved to the living room, cuddling close to each other as the cold of the night started to set in. You both had your magic to keep you warm but this didn't stop you from laying your head on Agatha’s shoulder, shuffling closer to her side as she began to read out of your poetry book you had spent the afternoon with.

You felt yourself getting tired as she continued to read, burying your face in the crook of her neck, her fingers absently stroking your hair as she recited old poems about love and passion.

Agatha smiled down on your sleeping form as she put the book away, careful not to wake you. She looked at your relaxed face, a little smile on your lips. You were beautiful. She had always thought you were but with her strict mother and the coven she had always pushed these feelings aside, having had more important matters at hand. But now, now there was no denying that she had fallen for you, had fallen for you a long time ago. The last couple of weeks had shown her that, she loved waking up to you bustling around the cabin, always finding new things to do. She realised that she never wanted to live without you ever again. The reason why you were here reminding her that her perfect little world could easily be crushed. The images of you laying on the forest floor still haunting her dreams sometimes, making her want to climb into your bed and hold you close, never ever letting you go. She had sworn herself that she would protect you, no matter what she had to sacrifice for it.

Gently getting up from the couch she picked you up, carrying you to your shared room, carefully placing you on your bed, tucking you under the covers she gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Getting up to go to her own bed she felt your hand grasp hers, looking at you she saw you half asleep looking up at her with a loving smile on your face.

"Stay please."

Your request caught her off guard but she quickly caught herself as she climbed under the covers, you body cuddling close to her the minute she did. Wrapping her arms around you she pulled you closer, savouring the feeling of your body so close to her. She felt you bury your head in her chest, mumbling something that sounded an awful lot like I love you, her heart starting to pound faster at these words. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ears she closed her eyes, feeling happy and content as you fell asleep in her arms.

"I love you too angel, I love you too."

You woke to the sun shining through the window, grumbling you flicked your hand to draw the curtains when you heard a slight chuckle from behind you. Agatha. You remembered last night, how you had asked her to stay and how good it had felt to fall asleep in her arms, giving you the feeling of safety and home. You turned around to see her proped up on her elbow, a beautiful smile visible on her face.

"Good morning sweetheart."

"Have you been watching me all this time?"

Her cheeks started to turn a scarlet hue at your question. She nervously looked down at her hands, playing with little whisps of her magic.

"I didn't had the heart to wake you, you were sleeping so peacefully dear."

Now it was your turn to blush, your cheeks turning the colour of your magic that always surrounded you. It wavered around your hands, like the fog that surrounded your cabin in the mornings.

You looked at Agatha, messy hair framing her face, piercing blue eyes staring at you as if you were the single most important thing in the world, purple magic swirling around her hands. She looked like a goddess.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a hand caressing your face, you looked up to see Agatha hovering over your body, holding your hand, your faces so close you could feel her hot breath. You gave a her a short nod and at that she closed the gap in between the two of you.

Your hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, her body flush on your. This kiss was everything you dreamed it would be and so much more. You felt like your nerves were on fire, the only thing you could feel was Agatha and her magic. It curled around you, making your skin tingle and cheeks flush, melting together with your own magic, intensifying the experience. You felt Agatha deepen the kiss and you let her, pouring all your emotions into it, never wanting it to end. You could feel every single emotion of the witch on top of you, happiness, adoration, joy, passion and love, so much love. You could feel her, feel her soul spark with joy as she finally had found you, finally had found the missing piece, her other half, her soulmate.

When you broke apart the room was basked in purple and coral light, your magic swirling around the room, connected with each other. You looked at Agatha who had a loving smile on her face. She pulled you up and you were basically pulled into her lap. Cradling your face you could see some tears in the corner of her eyes. Wiping them away she speaks, her voice not more than a whisper.

"Please tell me this is not a dream."

You shake your head and take her hands in yours, absently drawing small circles on them.

"No definitely not a dream."

At this Agatha smiles, crushing her lips on yours for another passionate kiss.

You knew the future wasn't gonna be easy but together you were unstoppable.

You had found your missing half, your soulmate.

[amphxtrite]

cedric diggory x fem!reader

warnings: self depreciation, crying, a little angst I guess.

summary: cedric finds you crying about all the things he finds beautiful, so he helps you see your beauty again and shows you just how close he holds you to your heart.

a/n: the ending <3 also this is kind of valentine’s day related!

word count: 3.7k

tag list: @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @cedricsyellowscarf @hoe4cedricdiggory @draco-and-tom @punkrific @oldschoolkiddo @hey-there-angels @dreamy-clousds @sambucky8

message me to be added or removed from my tag list

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

A crushing feeling of dread became more and more normal with each passing day.

You woke up, entered the bathrooms to wash up and your heart would practically drop to your stomach. Your lips would purse as you start to over-analyze every little thing about you. Your smile, eyes, waist, and hips, even your hands couldn’t be spared from the merciless attack you threw at yourself. 

You did everything to try and change. Skipped meals, worked out, suppressed your smile and worked every critique into your life, but it wasn’t enough.

You lay wide awake as you felt worthless in your own skin, wishing you could change. Wishing the pain would just go away.

On a particularly bad day, you step out of the shower and begin towelling yourself dry as you hum a soft melody. You began shrugging on your undergarments when the fog from the mirror fades and unknowingly you glance over and catch sight of your reflection. Your humming stop and your stomach lurches in horror, you can feel the tears begin to well in your eyes.

Cedric walks the steps to your dorm clutching a bundle in his arms filled with your favourite things. Sweets, his hoodies, and muggle films wrapped into a blanket as he excitedly balances them all and opens the door to your room.

“Darling! Look what I-”

His sentence drops when he hears a quiet sniffle coming from the bathroom attached to your dorm and he freezes. Slowly, he puts the small package of goodies on your bed and steps up to the bathroom, gently knocking on the wooden door.

“Y/n? A-Are you in there dove?” He murmurs, placing his hand on the doorknob to enter.

“C-Ced?” You respond meekly. 

“Have you been crying love? I’m coming in okay?”

Your eyes widen and you frantically glance around. Cedric could not see you right now, not while you were in tears and insecure, he would freak out.

“N-No, Ced I’m fine, there’s no need to come in!” You rush out, trying your best to sound as normal as possible.

Cedric is quick to see through this, noticing the short break in your voice along with quiet fear and sadness.

“Darling, I can hear it in your voice, you’re upset. Please let me help.” Cedric chides softly, fighting the urge to just open the door and see what had you so upset.

“Ced. Please. J-Just leave please.” You plead as you drop to a sitting position on the floor, covering your mouth with your hand to compress your soft sobs.

With his ear practically pressed against the door, Cedric hears your weak attempt to hide and sighs, placing his hand on the knob again.

“You’ll have to forgive me for this later.” He breathes out, as the door swings open to reveal you curled up against the wall opposite to him.

“Y/n!” The brunette cries, quickly closing the distance between you and dropping to his knees.

Your head snaps up from its spot on your knees and meets eye to eye with Cedric's frantic grey ones.

“Darling why are you crying? You know I hate it when you cry.” Cedric murmurs, gathering you into his arms as he gently wipes the tears from your eyes.

“N-No, Cedric. Please leave.” You stammer in return, backing away from his embrace and grabbing the towel hanging from the side of the sink and pulling it on top of you.

“Darling what’s wrong? You know I’m here for you.” Cedric reassures as you pull the towel even closer to your body.

“I-it’s not that Ced. I-I’m just.” You stop as you desperately search for the right words, but your mind draws blank and you curse yourself.

Cedric sits back on his knees and begins looking around the bathroom.

Your cheeks were stained with tears, the mirror was lightly fogged from the shower you must’ve taken not too long ago and your clothing sat untouched at the side of the sink.

Cedric tries to find an explanation, trying to think of a reason you could be this upset, but he is left helpless as you glance around avoiding his eye contact.

“I-Is it me darling? A-Am I, making you uncomfortable?” He questions, wringing his fingers together as your eyes widen.

You can hear the pain in your voice and your eyes cloud again as you feel your walls crumbling down.

“Cedric, of course not I just-”

Your voice breaks as another silent sob racks your chest, and another tear slips down your cheek.

“I just can’t do this Cedric. Never being enough for myself. Never being pretty enough, skinny enough, curvy enough. Not enough.” You cry, bringing your hand to your face again to harshly wipe away the tears.

“Everyday I look in the mirror and I’m never happy with myself, but no matter what I do it still isn’t enough and I feel so weak, so gross.” You continue.

Cedric’s eyes widen and his eyebrows furrow.

That was why you were crying? You thought you weren’t beautiful?

Cedric almost scoffs at this, but he knew now was not the time for joking.

He stands slowly and walks towards you with a sad smile resting on his lips. He sits down in front of you and takes your hands.

“Do you remember the first day we met darling?” 

You sniffle and look up.

“Of course Cedric, I was at the quidditch game and you accidentally tripped on something and fell in front of me.” You recount, unsure where he was going with this.

“Well love, it wasn’t exactly nothing.” Cedric starts, allowing a small smile to peak out past his lips as you tilted your head in confusion.

“Well…” He smiles.

Cedric wipes the sweat from his forehead as he exits the change room after a tough match against slytherin. He slings his bag across his shoulder and begins making his way towards his mates for a celebratory party in honour of their win. He’s only a couple steps away when a quiet laugh pulls him out of his thoughts. Cedric’s head swivels and his eyes lock on the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. Your eyes are alight at the joke your friend must’ve told you and your lips are pulled in an angelic smile.

The seeker’s vision seems to slow as he spots you and his mouth opens to form a soft ‘o.’

He wasn’t sure what had struck him, but it didn’t matter, he was sure he was floating.

He was so entranced he managed to trip over his own feet and land flat on his face.

“Oh my goodness? A-Are you alright?”

Cedric nearly jumped when he saw you hovering over him offering your hand to him. His cheeks burned bright red as he notices he’s still laying on the grass and he quickly takes your hand.

“I’m great! Um- thank you.” He laughs a little nervously.

Your next words seems to escape his ears, a possible ‘no worries’ or just a laugh as he zones out and nods bashfully.

“Y-You fell because of me?” You ask in slight disbelief.

“Well I think I fell for you dove, but I was too embarrassed you’d think I was weird, so I didn’t tell you.” Cedric sighs with a light chuckle.

“You thought I’d think you were weird?” You stammer.

“Well yes. You were absolutely stunning darling, I didn’t want to scare you off!” Cedric chuckles, pulling you back into his arms and pressing a kiss onto your hair.

He pauses, and when you don’t pull away Cedric’s lips pull into a small smirk.

“Do you remember the first time you gave me a hug?” He questions softly.

Your lips pull up against your wishes and you nod.

“You froze up because you got uncomfortable.”

“Wrong again.” Cedric states in a song like voice.

“Really?” You laugh gently, looking up into Cedric’s gray eyes and cocking your eyebrow.

“Oh darling, you don’t know the half of it.” The brunette sighs, recounting the story.

“Can we please just take a break y/n?” Cedric groans, laying his head on his arms tiredly as you scan through your textbook.

“You’re the one who suggested we study together, remember.” You smirk, scribbling something on a sheet of parchment as Cedric’s face goes red.

“Yes well, I was hoping for more than just actual studying.” Cedric sighs as your eyebrow cocks.

The brunette looks at you strangely before realization dawns on him.

“No! Not like that!” He rushes as your melodic laugh sounds in his ears.

“Don’t worry Ced I didn’t think of it like that.” You chuckle, finally calming down from your fit of laughter. “If you wanted to do something else, you could have just asked.” You sigh, leaning over and wrapping the brunette in a side hug.

Cedric’s blood runs cold as his face grows red, he wasn’t expecting that reaction from you and he sure as hell did not know how to react.

His brain told him to laugh it off and hug you back, but his heart panicked and he simply froze.

“Oh- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You apologize, retracting your arms.

Fuck. Cedric panics as he sees your smile pull down.

“No y/n, it’s alright.” He laughs nervously pulling you to your feet.

“Black lake is rather beautiful this time of day, care to join me?” Cedric suggests, switching the topic and jabbing his thumb in the direction of the lake.

“Oh, sure!” You shrug with a smile, following closely behind as the hufflepuff releases a breath of relief and turns back to you.

“Perfect, we’ll be just in time for the sunset!”

“So you’re telling me this entire time, you were just too nervous to hug me back?” You deadpan, looking into Cedric’s embarrassed eyes.

“I-I didn’t want you to know I was pinning for you, so I played along.” He chuckles, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Why are you telling me all this Ced?” You mumble, giving into his soothing gesture and relaxing into him.

“And here I was thinking I was being obvious.” Cedric chuckles, looking down at you.

“I’m reminding you how beautiful you are darling. I’m a deer in headlights every single time I see you, I can never think straight when I look into your eyes and Merlin darling, do I stumble whenever I see that body of yours.” Cedric teases, pulling you closer and attacking your neck with kisses.

You laugh, but your tone grows serious again. “I- don’t know Ced.” you pause looking down to avoid eye-contact. “It’s just every time I look in the mirror I can only see my flaws. All my scars and imperfections. How could I possibly be beautiful?” 

Cedric smiles sadly at your comment.

“I know it may be hard to believe angel, but I’m in love with all of your so-called ‘flaws.’ Every inch of you is stunning in every way, every bit builds up to the person I love the most in this world, how could I not love everything about you?” Cedric murmurs, tilting your chin up so he could show you how serious he was. You open your mouth to speak, but Cedric continues.

“I fell in love with your personality y/n, you’re sweet, compassionate, strong and witty, but I-I also cannot deny that I find you absolutely breath-taking. I haven’t told you enough how beautiful you are and I whole-heartedly regret that, but darling everything about you gets me-” Cedric pauses, swallowing thickly and taking a deep breath at the feeling of your body pressed against his.

“Gets you what darling?” You question unknowingly, shifting yourself so you’re resting a little more comfortably in between his legs.

“Darling.” Cedric begins in a much lower voice, “everything about you. Those beautiful e/c eyes, strong swaying hips even those perfectly pursed lips get me so enticed.” Cedric whispers, licking his upper lip and leaning down closer to you.

“C-Cedric?” You squeak as his hard gaze bores to your very core.

“You heard me love, you drive me absolutely insane in every way, I’m having a hard time keeping my hands off of you right now.” He smirks, pulling you closer and nipping gently on your ear.

All was quiet until Cedric let out a small snicker and the two of you erupt in laughter.

“W-Why are you laughing love? I was serious.” Cedric chuckles, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he does his best to contain his laughter.

“I-I know darling, b-but I’ve never seen you so serious and I couldn’t help it.” You tease, hugging Cedric around the torso until you’ve both quieted down again.

“I did mean what I said though angel, you’re absolutely beautiful and I’ll stop at nothing to make sure you know it.” Cedric states proudly, swiftly pulling his head from your neck and holding your face in his hands.

“I. Love. You. So. Much.” He murmurs happily, placing a kiss on your nose, cheeks and forehead in between each word.

“I love you too, Cedric.” You smile gently, placing your own hand over his and leaning closer into him.

“You’re gonna make me pass out from adorableness if you keep that up love, now come on, I have a surprise for you.” Cedric smiles, pressing a long chaste kiss to your lips and standing to his feet.

“Come on princess, d’you trust me?” Cedric smirks, extending his hand to you.

You roll your eyes and take his hand. “Yes, I do.”

Cedric smiles widely and pulls you to your feet, swinging your arms between you as he walks back out into your room and ruffles around in his small pack.

“What is all this for anyways.” You question, pointing at the small bundle he was digging through.

“You didn’t expect me to leave you by yourself on Valentine's day, did you?” He chuckles, retrieving a large hoodie and walking back over to you.

“Valentine’s day?” You question furrowing your eyebrows and looking at the calendar on your desk. “Bloody hell it’s Valentine’s day.” You panic, realizing you had nothing to give to your boyfriend.

“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t you dare get worked up about a silly gift darling. I’ve got today covered.” Cedric smirks, pulling the hoodie over your head and sitting you on your mattress.

Your stress seems to disappear the moment the soft material envelopes you. The scent of warm wood and vanilla waft into your nose and you immediately smile. Looking down, you realize this was Cedric’s quidditch hoodie, his favorite one with his last name stitched in yellow at the back.

“Now!” He claps, bringing your attention back to him. “One of my friends has muggle parents, and when I told him about your love of movies, he leant me this little contraption.” Cedric smiles, lifting a small projection box from the wrap. “Now, I’m not quite sure how to use it, but there’s never something little magic can’t fix.” Cedric exclaims, pulling his wand from his pocket and tapping on the small box-shaped item.

Almost immediately the projector lights up and f/m begins to play.

“Perfect.” Cedric grins, placing the projection so it’s hitting the empty space on the wall opposite to your bed.

“Now what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t have…” Cedric continues, summoning a beautiful bouquet of red roses from his wand, “flowers for my princess.” He chuckles, kneeling down in front of you and holding them out for you to take. “Oh Cedric, they’re beautiful.” You gasp, holding them to your nose.

“Now scoot over love, I have one final thing to give you.” The hufflepuff smiles.

“Cedric, now you’re just making me feel bad.” You huff, crossing your arms.

“Darling, you spoil me with affection all the time. At least let me spoil you with gifts today.” He pouts, his grey eyes lightening with a grin as you eventually nod and give in.

“Now close your eyes.” Cedric coos as you place your hands over your face and wait.

You feel his arms reach around your head and a small weight around your neck.

“Alright, open them.” He murmurs, leaning back as you remove your hands from your eyes and glance down. A simple gold chain with rectangular golden rod that reaches the middle of your chest adorns your neck. “Thank you Ced it’s-”

“Wait, that’s not even the surprise.” Cedric smirks.

He reaches for your wand resting on your pillow and holds it to the rod.

“My heart is yours, and the memories I hold, I share with you.” He murmurs.

Suddenly a small beam of light flashes from the tip of the rod into the air in front of you.

The light becomes a picture, flickering until you can see… Yourself. You see yourself with your arm outstretched like you’re reaching for someone.

“Oh my goodness! A-Are you alright?” Your concerned voice rings from the picture and your eyes widen.

Your jaw drops as another hand enters the vision, Cedric’s.

“I’m great! Um- thank you.” The familiar, shy voice responds as his point of view rises. Cedric had managed to put his first encounter with you into this necklace.

You watch as Cedric’s ‘vision’ flickers from your eyes down to your lips, when it changes.

“If you wanted to do something else, you could’ve just asked.” Your voice rings again, as you see yourself with pink cheeks, reaching over to wrap Cedric in a hug.

The point of view shifts once more to a beautiful sunset by black lake. You gaze down at yourself being held in Cedric’s arms. You’re whispering something, but you can’t pick it up as Cedric’s vision leans closer and presses a kiss to your lips, he pulls back you can see your face heat up and your lips pull into a smile.

Tears began welling in your eyes again as you remember that very day.

You begin to blink rapidly as you process everything that happened. For a moment, you believed you were dreaming and you even pinched yourself to make sure.

Nope, this was really happening. Cedric smiles softly and sighs.

“I-I’ve got a crush on you y/n.” He confesses softly.

“I would hope so after you kiss me Ced.” You tease lightly, still registering everything as you leaned into him.

“Do you like me?” Cedric chuckled.

“What if i do?” You question smugly, hiding the growing smile forming on your lips.

“Then I ask you to be mine.” He states plainly

“Well, I do like you Cedric Diggory.”

“Then y/n l/n. Will you be mine?”

“Yes, dummy.” You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck and connecting your lips once more.

The memory of Cedric asking you to be his was encompassed in the necklace as well, but something stood out to you. Because you could see this from Cedric’s perspective, you noticed him glancing all around your face, one moment he was gazing at your lips, the next your eyes or your nose, you remember Cedric staring at you strangely at the lake, and now you understood why. Cedric really did find beauty in every insecurity you had, and from the look on his face, he always had.

The lights cut off abruptly and as your eyes readjust to the light being cast from your windows, your gaze flickers back up to the brunette looking down at you.

The tears flow freely as you open and close your mouth, like a fish out of water, trying to find the right words as Cedric chuckles and presses his forehead against yours.

“H-How did you-?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets darling, now you’ll have a piece of me wherever you go.” Cedric murmurs, lifting the necklace to his lips and placing a kiss onto it.

“B-But why?” You ask, unable to control the soft sobs from choking up your words.

Cedric’s smile grows and takes your hand into his, lacing your fingers together as he lifts your hand over his heart.

“I love you so much darling. I wanted you to have the memories I hold the dearest and closest to my heart, so I found a way to do it and now they’re yours too.” Cedric chuckles, allowing his own tears to slip down his face.

“Everything in this world means nothing without you my love, I’m hoping this proves that.” Cedric smiles,  lifting your hands from his chest to his lips to press a long kiss to them.

“I hope you know that when you watch these memories, you know that I’m thinking how lucky I am to have you beside me.” Cedric continues leaning closer.

“I’m thinking how grateful I am. How beautiful you are. How perfect everything feels when you’re beside me.” Cedric smiles, kissing you after each phrase.

“I love you so much darling.”

“Oh Ced.” You cry, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing onto his lap so you’re clinging onto him.

“I’ll hold these memories everyday, I‘ll cherish every moment we spend together and hold you in the closest place to my heart until my final breath. Know that I’m eternally grateful to have you with me, and I hope you know I love you just as much.” You smile, watching Cedric’s eyes light up as another tear escapes down his cheek and he lets out a gentle chuckle.

“Calm down love, it’s not even our wedding yet.” Cedric chaffs, but you hear the sincerity in his voice as he begins nuzzling his nose to yours.

You giggle, resting your forehead against Cedric’s as the world goes quiet and everything falls into place. An invisible force seems to push you forwards until you are interlocking lips with your lover. It starts off soft until Cedric tilts his chin to deepen the kiss, and you oblige, parting your lips and allowing his tongue to roam in your mouth as you move your lips in sync with his. In that moment, every insecurity seemed to fade, all you could feel was Cedric’s soft lips pulling you into a bliss like state. You reluctantly pull back for a moment to catch your breath and smile at the loving gaze Cedric looked upon you with. You couldn’t help but reconnect your lips again with a smile, run your fingers through his thick brown curls and sighing contently.

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

[justahopelessssromantic]

Gone

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving 😊 I hope you all have a great and safe day no matter how you are celebrating ♥️

As always thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy

Request: @beardburnsupersoldiers Okay so first I have to say I love love love the way you write Angel! I am so happy I found your blog as fan fiction for him doesn’t seem as easy to find! Also, if you are currently taking requests I was wondering if you could do one with Daddy Angel where reader is being stalked/kidnapped and how he balances getting her back with helping his children through her absence?

Thank you so much for the request! And for your kind words ❤ I'm so happy you found my blog as well! I hope you enjoy and are doing well

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1,694

*gif not mine*

Angel sat at your dining room table staring at your empty chair across from him. You should be there. You should be looking back at him with that breathtaking smile of yours as you listened to each of your children tell the two of you about their day over your meal. You'd be engaged with them picking up every detail and at the same time be fully connected to Angel making him feel just as seen even without any words. 

You were always good with that, being able to make everyone feel seen and most importantly loved. 

You should be here enjoying another dinner with him, with your family like every other night. But no you weren't here and Angel was by himself at your empty table. 

How could he have not known? How could you have not said anything? How could he have let this happen? These were the thoughts that kept plaguing his mind.

Today began like every other day. The two of you woke up, late as usual, rushed to get the kids fed and ready for school, finally got everyone out and in the car only to have to go back in for something they forgot before you two finally parted for the day with the promise of seeing each other again later that night. Angel took off for work and you headed the other way with the kids to drop them off at school and go to work yourself. 

It was just an average day in your life or so you both thought. 

Angel stared down at the photos on the table in front of him, photos of you. Creepy, disturbing photos of your everyday life, going to work, picking up the mail, walking the dog. The photos made Angel’s stomach churn. Your coworker Amanda gave them to Angel just a few hours ago hoping they would help in any way. She told Angel you began receiving them weeks ago. You brushed them off, tossing them. You didn’t want Angel to worry. 

You should have told him. He should have been worried.

Now you were gone, someone had grabbed you on your way to your vehicle after work.  

Angel ran his hand over his face. He was exhausted and his head was pounding. He wanted to cry, to scream, to lash out at anyone around him but he couldn’t. 

Felipe walked in behind his eldest son. His heart broke as he saw how defeated he was. He gave Angel a firm squeeze on his shoulder before sitting down next to him. Angel may not want to hear what he had to say but he had to say it. “I know how much pain you’re in mijo.” He spoke, getting Angel to remove his hand and look at him. “I know you want her back, you want vengeance but none of that matters right now. You have to stay level headed, strong, for them.” Felipe motioned over to your three kids in the next room watching Finding Nemo. “They need you to be strong.” 

Angel watched his kids for a moment. Diego, your oldest, sat in the middle of the couch while your youngest Camilla, Angel’s princesa sucked on her thumb leaning on her brother for support as she was mesmerized by the pictures playing before them. Rosa, your middle child sat on the other side of Camilla more interested in her game boy than the movie as you showed her tio EZ how to play.

They were oblivious to the horror their father was facing. 

“They need her.” Angel kept his gaze on them a moment longer. You were the rock in your family. Angel couldn’t do this without you. He needed you. “I need her.” 

Felipe wanted to have hope that you would be found safely but he knew the dangers this life brought, he knew the dangers of the situation. “You may be all they have now Angel.” 

“What the fuck are you trying to say?” Angel turned to his father. 

"I'm just trying to keep you from making the same mistakes I did Angel." Felipe explained. After their mother passed he was never the same and certainly not there for his sons like he should have been. His boys were older, adults then which helped but was no excuse. 

"Don't talk like she ain't coming back." Angel warned. “She is coming back home to us. She has too.” He didn’t even want to think about what his father was suggesting. There was no way he was losing you. 

EZ cleared his throat as he now stood in the entryway with Camilla in his arms and Rosa holding his hand, Diego right behind him. “I’m going to order a pizza. Everyone is getting a little hungry.”

“Is mom not coming back?” Rosa asked. Her eyes bore into Angel’s searching for answers he didn’t have. All they knew was that you were staying with your sister tonight to help her pack for her move. 

“Come here.” Angel held his hands out instructing her to come sit in his lap. EZ passed Camilla to Felipe exchanging her for the pictures so the kids wouldn’t see. “Of course mom is coming back.” He looked at each of them seeing a little piece of you. Camilla had your nose, Diego your eyes, and Rosa was the spitting image you. “She’s just helping auntie out, she’ll be back before you know it.” 

He made that promise to them even knowing it might not be true. It was what they needed to hear and right now he had to do what he’d wished someone would for him. To hold them comforting them with the promise that everything would be alright. 

—————————————————

Angel finally got your kids bathed and in bed. It was definitely much harder without your help but he did it and he was proud of himself. He thought you would be too. None of them wanted to sleep in their own beds without you home so the three of them were snuggled up in your grand king bed. 

Felipe was still here just in case Angel got a call. Having him in just the other room brought some comfort to him. EZ had taken the photos with him excusing himself after the pizza arrived to help in the search for you. If anyone would notice anything crucial to your safe home coming he knew it would be his brother. 

Angel sat in your reading chair with your favorite blanket across his lap as he watched your kids. He had his gun on the dresser next to him just in case and his phone in hand waiting for any updates. He hated not being out there looking for you but he also knew you would want him to stay with the kids and he trusted his brothers would leave no rock unturned in their search for you. They loved you just as much as him, there were no other people in the world he’d entrust your life and safety with. 

He wasn’t sure when it was but at some point he must have dozed off. He was awoken by the buzzing of his phone now on the hardwood floor of your bedroom. He shot up checking his surroundings and on the kids first to make sure they were still in bed before grabbing his cell. He fumbled with the device a moment cursing until he finally got it answered. 

“Did you find her?” He asked. His stomach was in knots as he prepared for the worst. He was trying to remain positive but that could only do so much.

He hated not feeling in control.

“We got her. She’s safe, Angel.” EZ said on the other end. “She wants to talk to you.”

Angel stood up quickly but quietly , exiting the bedroom before closing the door gently behind him. He was overwhelmed with emotion as the news rushed through him. He slid down the door settling down on the ground before his legs had the chance to give up on him.

“Hey baby.” Hearing your voice was what truly caused him to break.

“Hey, mi amor.” Angel managed through a sob, the tears flowed fully and unapologetically now. He had never been so happy to hear your voice in his life. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” You reassured him. “We’re on our way home now. How are our kids?” 

“Good but they’ve missed you. I miss you.” His voice was defeated. “Don’t ever pull this shit again. You come to me, okay? We can’t do this without you.”

Now it was your turn to break. The only thing you could think about the whole time you were gone was Angel and your family, of how the only thing you wanted was just to see them once more, to just have a little more time with them. “Okay, I promise Angel.” 

Angel rested his head back against the door. He couldn’t trust his own voice to say much but he needed to say this. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

———————————————

That next morning the table was set with your plates full of pancakes you and Angel had made for breakfast. You spent all your time being back home in Angel’s lap watching the kids sleep together. Neither one of you could sleep so once dawn approached you decided to make breakfast together, something the two of you hadn’t done in a while. 

Angel sat across from you at the table never taking his eyes off you. He watched you as you listened to the kids tell you about their night with Felipe and Daddy. You smiled engaging with each of them, laughing at their little jokes. For just a second you looked up back at Angel and your smile only grew. You gave him a look telling him you were proud of him, that he did an excellent job and that you loved him so much. 

You saw him even when he would feel unseen. 

All was right in his world once more and in that moment he vowed to himself that he would never let anything happen to you again. 

Tagging: @jad3djay @fairygardenss @carlaangel86 @starrynite7114 @gemini0410 @knowles-morgan @everyhowlmarksthedead @ktiz90 @brothersofmayhem @vsfavs @scuzmunkie @chibsytelford @sadeyesgf @blessedboo @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @toni9 @mayans-sauce @briana-mishell24 @langiinspirations

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Files

Pairings: Sam Winchester x Reader

Trope: Enemies to lovers  @serenityhayato​ ( WRITTEN FOR @negans-lucille-tblr​‘s SPN FIC EXCHANGE )

Warnings: Death of a friend, Canonical Gore (werewolf attack), Cursing, Smut (rough Sam, light choking, hand job, oral if you squint- male receiving, unprotected sex), Probably sex at inappropriate times if I’m being honest

Word Count: 7500 (I am so sorry I didn’t realize until I went to post this that it had a 3k word limit… this was definitely my bad but I’ve spent a week writing this and really didn’t want to scrap the whole thing to fit the word limit. I didn’t realize how carried away I got in the set up)

A/N: I have never written anything for Sam before, much less smut, but I wanted to give it a shot. I’m sorry if it’s totally OOC. I was trying to go off the knowledge that he’s canonically pretty rough in bed. I also couldn’t imagine him being super talkative and vocal. I don’t know, I’m just kinda stressed about this one. Also, this was probably definitely an inappropriate time for them to get down and dirty but my brain was glitching on any other idea so I hope you don’t hate it! Happy holidays!

________________

Sam Winchester.

The name alone made your blood boil.

You’d met the man for the first time, just before your hunting career began and quite frankly, you weren’t sure if you could ever truly forgive him for what he’d done.

–

It was the first semester of your senior year of college, a proud graduate-to-be of your dream university. Life had been great since you got to college. Old toxic relationships with people back home had practically disappeared, you’d formed a group of the best people you’d ever met, and your academics had been going strong.

Life was going great until people started disappearing only to turn up days later, slaughtered and nearly drained of blood. Anxiety was running high all across the board. The university even turned all night classes to online courses to prevent the likelihood of someone being abducted at night. Your best friend had started acting weird. She constantly shook as if she’d drank a pot of coffee for breakfast and was always looking over her shoulder. “It’s okay, Beth,” You tried to reassure her, “I know everyone is on edge but we’re doing everything we can to stay safe. Just make sure to bring your wooden stake in case the vampire attacks.” You chuckled weakly, knowing your nerve-fueled joke was definitely inappropriate considering that four people had actually died from whoever was out there but humor was a good coping mechanism.

Beth didn’t appreciate the joke at all and had run out of your apartment, disappearing. When she hadn’t returned by seven that night, you got worried enough to go look for her. Grabbing every self defense weapon you had, which was pepper spray, a pocket knife, and a key chain that looked cute but was actually a form of brass knuckles with sharp extrusions on it, you left your apartment to look for Beth, surprisingly well strapped.  

You started with her favorite spots: a hipster coffee shop on Main Street, Taco Bell, that one bench in the botanical gardens that overlooked the pond, and the fourth floor of the library. She was nowhere to be seen. You were on the verge of calling the police or those FBI agents that had been questioning people on campus, asking some weird questions from what people had told you. You’d never spoken with them but they did say to come to them with information if anyone had any. You didn’t but they’d be a good start to finding Beth. Where to find them though? Figuring it would be best to just start with campus police, you walked across campus, looking over your shoulder every few seconds. The hair on your neck stood on end and it was impossible to feel safe. Campus police was located on the opposite end of campus and the busses stopped running early on weekdays so walking was your only choice.

“No, please!” You heard a man whimper from somewhere in the trees to your side. You stopped in your tracks and your heart dropped to your stomach. Should you help? Should you run? Should you stay here and call 911?

But then you heard Beth’s voice, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I can’t control it anymore!” And then screams. There were deafening screams of pain and you decided to say screw it. You ran down to try and protect your friend, even though you knew it was probably the last thing you’d ever do. This was stupid. What could you even do? Who knew what was down there attacking them?

When you saw them though, you stopped, skidding to a halt on the leaf covered hill. Beth was knelt over a man’s body, his backpack thrown to the side and ripped open. Though you were quiet, she must have heard you because her attention was whipped to you in an instant. Her face and shirt were covered in blood. It was obvious she’d been eating him or something along those lines.

You felt like a deer in headlights, utterly frozen in terror, denial, and confusion. “I can’t control myself anymore…” she admitted, a regretful sob hiccuping from her lips.

“Why?” You breathed out the question, silent tears falling. Whether they were for fear for your life or just the knowledge that someone you cared about could do something so horrible, you didn’t know.

Before she could answer, there was a loud bang and she fell dead. You flinched and covered your head, crouching instinctively from the gunshot. Your best friend slumped over dead and, despite the fact that you’d just watched her brutally murder some poor stranger, you couldn’t help but call out in shock and horror, “Beth!"

Two men came running down the hill, one of them to Beth’s body and the other to you. "She’s dead. Werewolf, just like we thought.” The man with short hair announced in a deep gruff voice.

“Are you alright?” The one who had come up to asked. He looked a little younger than the other, with longer hair too.

You were shaking, “What the hell just happened?"

"I know this is hard to understand but your friend over there… wasn’t human.” When he said it, you almost scoffed. Of course she was human. What the hell else would she be? Monsters weren’t real.

“You’re kidding me…” You said almost angrily. Then something hit you, “Wait, you’re those FBI detectives.”

The one with short hair walked up to you and the man talking to you. The taller one spoke again, “I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean. We aren’t really FBI. We hunt monsters. Monsters like your friend over there."

"She wasn’t a monster.” You said, a single tear finally falling down your cheek. Glancing over, you saw her lying dead on the ground, “Not the Beth I knew."

"Well then you didn’t know the real Beth because one look at that thing will tell you she ain’t human.” Dean told you bluntly.

Sam noticed the confusion, fear, and anger in your eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen this. It was never easy to tell people they were close to the truth and he preferred to just stay out of it completely but that wasn’t an option this time. “Look, I know this is difficult to understand. But Beth was a werewolf. And yes, they are real. Most monsters are. We’ve been tracking her for weeks."

"W-was she always like this?” Your mind whirled as you struggled to comprehend, truly comprehend, what was happening.

Sam shook his head, “She was turned by a werewolf back in her hometown a few weeks ago. We tracked her from a pack we hunted down over there.” You remembered when she came back, she had a big bandage on her arm. When you asked about it, she brushed it off, saying she ate it racing her brother on longboards. It was probably the bite.

“The fact that she made it as long as she did without killing is honestly impressive. I’ve seen some turn and right away they’re slaughtering people.” Dean chimed in. You hoped their words would console you but they only served to make you angrier.

“So you’re telling me that she was attacked by a werewolf and then turned into one? She was probably terrified! She kept saying how sorry she was! You could have helped her! But you just killed her!” You screamed at them angrily.

“Your friend murdered a bunch of people. Once they turn, there’s no saving them. They’re killers.” Dean said with such conviction that it almost scared you.

Sam put a hand out to Dean, signaling for him to shut up, “There’s only one known way to stop the transformation but it has a really low success rate, is extremely painful, and needs to be administered almost right after the bite. I’m sorry.” He reached a hand out to comfort you but you dodged it, shrugging off his gesture and beginning to walk away.

“I need to go."

"Wait!” Sam called out behind you and you stopped.

“What?!” You snapped, spinning around to stare at him. It was rare that anyone dwarfed Sam Winchester but since you’d been walking up the small hill, you towered over him. The way you glared down at him made him jump.

His words faltered before he finally spoke, “You can’t tell anyone about this. If people knew monsters existed-"

"I’ll decide how I deal with the fact that my apparently werewolf best friend was just murdered by some dudes who think they’re Ghostbusters."

—

Sam saddled up to the bar next to you and promptly ordered two beers. You kept your eyes straight ahead, not sure of what you’d say to him if you made eye contact. You could feel him side eyeing you curiously. Finally, he looked over, "I’m sorry if this is strange but you look so familiar. Have we met?"

You swiveled in the chair to face him, "It’s been a while but yeah. We’ve met. Remember that werewolf at (your college)  about a year ago."

Realization dawned on his face, "Oh… I knew you looked familiar.” He didn’t sound excited like people usually did when they saw old friends because he knew you weren’t old friends. In fact, he assumed you felt quite the opposite and he understood why. “I never did catch your name."

"Y/N.” You informed shortly, taking a sip of your preferred poison.

Sam rocked back on his heels, “Well, uh, what are you doing out here?” It was Middletown, Arkansas, not exactly a happening place, so seeing you of all people here seemed almost too good to be a coincidence.

“I get the feeling the same reason you are.” You answered, eyebrows rising to infer a hunt.

It didn’t take long for Sam to figure what you meant, “Wait, you’re hunting now? Why?"

"After you guys left, I was devastated. You’d murdered my best friend,” you watched him sink into himself a little when you said that but continued seamlessly, “I was left alone with the sudden knowledge that monsters existed. I decided one day that I wanted to protect people like Beth. You know, the ones that innocently stumble into dangerous situations and have their lives ruined by a bite or scratch."

The tall Winchester brother was about to say something but Dean called from a few tables over, "Sammy!” He called out, pointing to a booth on the side wall. The bar was fairly busy for it being such a small town, with people playing pool or eating fries with their gin and tonics. Music played in the background and, though it wasn’t a song you knew off the top of your head, it sounded like every other dive bar in towns like this.

Sam held up a finger to his brother, begging pardon for just a second, before looking back over to you, “Look, I’m really sorry about everything. I really am. I know it doesn’t help but I’ve lost friends who were turned as well so I know how you feel.”

“Yeah, well, shit happens, right?” Your voice sounded anything but forgiving but it also wasn’t hostile either. It was more matter-of-fact. As much as you had hated Sam Winchester for what he had taken from you, if there was one thing you had learned over these last few months it was that shit really does happen. As hard as you tried, you really couldn’t save them all.

Sam glanced back over his shoulder to see Dean wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at him, clearly thinking you were someone Sam was trying to pick up for the night. Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to you, “If we’re both here for the vamp nest, then do you maybe want to come work with us?"

You thought for a moment. In all honesty, you had been under the impression that it was just one vampire wreaking havoc on the small town. Call it a novice mistake, because in all actuality, you really were still a relatively new hunter. One vampire you could take, a whole nest would be trickier. "Fine. But just so we don’t die."

You hopped off the barstool, glass of liquid fire in your hand, as you followed Sam back to the booth Dean was sitting at. At first, the older brother looked confused as to why his brother would bring his company for the night to meet him but didn’t say anything about it when you sat down beside Sam across the table from Dean.

"This is Y/N. She’s gonna help us work the case.” Sam announced, not leaving much room for objection.

Dean’s eyes studied you, “You look familiar. You’re a hunter?” He asked, trying to piece together why he recognized you.

You shrugged, “Am now but you know me from ‘bout a year ago when you guys killed my best friend. She was bit by a werewolf. Remember, that college girl?"

Realization dawned on his face, "Oh… yeah. Sorry about that but she was, y'know, a werewolf. So-” he shrugged insensitively, earning him a hard kick in the shin from Sam under the table. Dean looked back with that expression of 'what?’ That little kids had when they got in trouble.

“Well, anyways, she’s hunting now and is in town for the nest. I figured working together would be our best option.” Sam tried to be a peaceful moderator but it was hard when he knew how much you loathed him. It was frustrating, really, that you wouldn’t just see that Beth had become a monster. He understood that losing friends was hard but she had been killing innocent people.

“What’s the plan, then? We want to pick them off one by one so there’s less to fight at once or-” you began before Dean interrupted.

He shook his head, chewing some fries he’d shoved in his mouth while he spoke, “Nuh-uh. Gank the whole nest at once. Get 'em all in one place and torch it."

"Okay, well where’s the nest then?” You questioned.

Sam shrugged, “We don’t know yet. That’s what we gotta figure out."

"I have a file of police reports and eye witnesses on my laptop back at my hotel. I was just gonna grab a map of the town while I was out tonight to try and see if I could draw a location from the attacks.” You hadn’t planned on actually bringing work to do at the bar. You’d mostly come to see if you could overhear any drunken tales of vampires around town but it had been pretty dead as far as crazy stories so far.

Something behind you caught Dean’s attention and he leaned in close to you and Sam, “Hey, I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.” He said with a smirk and a wink.

As his brother stood, Sam threw his hand up in exasperation, “Where are you going?"

"Hopefully for a homerun.” Dean winked with a cocky smirk before walking away. You turned around to follow Dean with your gaze and immediately saw his target sitting at the bar, a beautiful African American woman with bouncing curls and a sultry smile on her berry stained lips. Honestly, you couldn’t’ say you blamed the older Winchester one bit.

Sam let out a huff of disappointment and rolled his eyes at his brother’s priorities. “Guess it’s just you and me then…” He groaned, not at the prospect of having to spend time with you but just at his brother’s laziness. Dean always managed to find an excuse out of the research part.

“Great.” You responded, unamused. Of the two brothers, Sam was the one you had an issue with- the trigger man on the night that changed your life. “Well, we should get a start on all this so we can get out of here sooner. If you didn’t get any food, you wanna head back to my room?”

The second the words left your mouth, you realized how it sounded and you became a bumbling mess, “Wait- I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant-”

Sam bit back a chuckle and raised his hand up off the table, motioning for you to stop, “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He laughed, long hair shining in the dim light as he moved to turn away from you with closed eyes while he chuckled. It really was a shame that he had done what he’d done to you. An opportunity with such a handsome man just had to be killed by his lack of compassion all those months ago.

You slid out of the booth, “Alright, well, I guess I’ll drive. Looks like Dean will be needing your car.” You smirked knowingly as you glanced over at Dean who had the woman he’d had eyes on in stitches over something he’d said.

Sam followed your lead, “Sounds good. I don’t think I want to be in the car after whatever they do anyways.”

Your black 2007 Honda Pilot was clean enough to not be totally embarrassed about but then you saw Sam’s little snort, “A Honda Pilot?”

“We can’t all have cool muscle cars or old trucks, jackass. I can go all terrain with decent gas mileage. Besides, I’d rather sleep in the back of this than your gas guzzler. She’s surprisingly spacious.” You defended your vehicle rather seriously, running your hand across the dash soothingly. The funny thing was that you’d really never been all too attached to the car until Sam insinuated insulting remarks about it.

“She?” He quipped with a raised brow, climbing into the passenger seat.

You slammed the door shut and started the engine, “Yes, she. Dahlia.”

Sam put his hands up, resigning his teasing assault on your car. The drive to the motel was short. You never really liked travelling too far from where you were staying when you didn’t have to. Hunting on your own, especially as a newbie, made you anxious. When you pulled into the parking lot, Sam looked out the window, “You’re staying here too?”

You looked over at him, “You guys are staying here?”

He nodded and patted his pockets, looking for the room key but quickly finding the gesture useless, “Room 24. You?”

“34. You must be right under me.” You said, again visibly cringing at your poor word choice, “You know what I mean.”

Sam tried his hardest not to smile, “Wasn’t gonna say anything.” He assured. You pulled into a space right in front of room 24 and parked. Sam followed you up to your room, which was relatively untouched still. You’d only arrived that morning so, aside from your bag of belongings that was thrown onto the single queen bed, the motel room was still as you had found it.

Sam closed the door behind the two of you and you grabbed your laptop from the bag. So many rooms you’d stayed in had little tables or desks but you quickly noticed that this one was lacking. As Sam awkwardly shuffled up to the bed where you sat casually, you noticed that there wasn’t really enough room for the two of you to work on the ground either.

With a huff, you scooted over, “You can sit on the bed. Just no shoes on the covers.” You had toed your own shoes off on the floor before tucking your legs underneath you. Sam sat beside you, careful to keep a respectful distance between your bodies, while you opened the lid of your laptop and began typing away.

“Alright, this is what I have so far.” You began.

Time became lost on you and Sam as midnight rolled around and you were still discussing the facts of the case. “I’m still confused as to why the hell you think Lenora’s body turning up on Seventh St and Jason’s body turning up on Hargrove Ave means the nest is on Willow Dr.” You were getting annoyed at Sam. In all honesty, you were annoyed at yourself for not seeing what he saw because as much as you hated to admit it, he was probably right. He and his brother hadn’t earned their reputations for being wrong. But, geez, why did it have to be Sam Winchester?

“Because it’s not so much Jason’s body. The old lady, Meredith, made a phone call to her nephew, saying she was at Willow Dr, just before she attacked.” Sam pointed at the map of the town with one finger while leaning his weight back on the bed. His other hand reached back to prop himself up but you quickly flinched away when you felt his rough fingers blindly land on your own.

Sam’s eyes shot wide when you felt your sudden movement, “‘M sorry.” He said, moving his hand closer to his body.

The contact made your heart race in a way that made you simultaneously crave his touch again and be angry at yourself for feeling that way.  You cursed yourself, scooting an inch or so away from Sam’s body. Clearly, your body was just blindly reacting after being touch starved for so long. You hadn’t so much as kissed anyone since before you became a hunter. It had to just be a primal reaction, nothing more.

“I’ll just take your word for it.” You grumbled, returning to the original matter at hand. You hated feeling like you were just letting him think he was right about everything but you were getting tired. “So what’s the plan? Gank ‘em all tomorrow night?”

Sam shrugged, “We’d have to talk to Dean. Most of them will probably be hiding in the nest in the morning to avoid the sun so at least they’d be in one place. But night gives us more time to plan. Who knows when he’ll be back.”

“Why don’t we just lure them all out into the sun and watch them burn?” You suggested, thinking it was a brilliant idea. You actually had yet to deal with vamps. This would be your first case hunting them and you were actually a little excited to learn something new.

The Winchester shook his head, “The sun doesn’t kill them. Think less Interview With a Vampire and more… bad sunburn.” He explained, “Have you never hunted one before?”

Again, you got defensive, “I’m still new at this. I mostly stick to werewolves and ghosts.” Admitting to yourself you needed to learn more was one thing. Admitting it to Sam was another.

He looked over at the gun on your nightstand, “Is that what you were gonna use?” He questioned, brows furrowed.

“No, I’m not dumb. I have some wooden stakes in the car.”

It took everything in Sam’s power to not laugh at you. At you felt like the wrong way to put it. He wasn’t laughing at you. He just found your determination to be a good hunter cute in an endearing way, even if you got your information from cheesy TV shows.

“What?” You asked, almost angrily, seeing the look of amusement on his face.

Sam shook his head, “Decapitation is the main way to kill vampires. Unless you have special bullets or weapons, cutting off the heads is the easiest way to go.”

Your jaw clenched and you turned away from him, upset that he of all people had to explain something that was apparently Hunter 101. You didn’t mind learning. Not knowing things typically was just an opportunity to pick something new up but this incident just felt like nails on a chalkboard.

“You know what? It looks like you and Dean have things handled here. I’m gonna go. Divide and conquer. I’ll just go find somewhere with monsters that I know about so you don’t have to babysit me.” You stood up aggressively, voice surprisingly calm and just almost convincing enough to make him think you weren’t being petty, which of course you were. You didn’t mean to be acting childish. It was just that running into Sam and Dean had been enough to handle. Having what was still left for you to learn shoved in your face was just the cherry on top.

Sam stood up after you, exasperated, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re still new to this and everyone has to start somewhere. Hell, Dean and I are still learning new stuff all the time.”

“It’s not that. This was just a bad idea. I thought I could handle working with you but I can’t.” You shook your head, turning around just to reach around Sam’s body and grab the jacket that you’d discarded before shrugging it back over your shoulders. You started shoving the few things you’d unpacked- a gun, your laptop, and some files- back into your blue duffel bag.

Sam had always considered himself fairly level-headed and capable of dealing with difficult people but something in him snapped when he saw you packing up to leave over something so stupid, “Fine, go ahead and leave. We’ll deal with the nest without you. But you know what? Nobody asked you to get involved in hunting. You can’t just go run off every time someone dies.”

You scoffed, “I got into hunting to prevent people from dying. I got into hunting to try and save them from being killed by people like you!”

“You’re acting like we just kill everyone we come across. We kill monsters, Y/N. We save people by killing them. We prevent more people from getting turned into monsters by killing them. And you know what? Beth became a monster.” Sam’s voice raised to almost a yell as he gestured widely and aggressively.

“Beth was scared and you murdered her!” You shouted angrily, tears welling in your eyes.

“Beth was killing people!” Sam yelled at you before taking a moment to breathe, continuing more calmly, “Can’t you see that? Most of these monsters we hunt were just poor bastards in the wrong place at the wrong time. There’s not a lot we can do for people like that. But we can keep them from hurting others. If we had known there was a werewolf back in Beth’s hometown, we could have killed them before they could turn her and she would still be here. Would you be angry if we’d have killed the werewolf that turned her? Would you still be calling me a murderer?”

You chewed your tongue in your mouth hard, trying to use the physical pain to distract you from the urge to cry out of frustration. Why did he have to make sense? Why did he have to confirm every rational thought you’d ever had concerning the situation? You wanted to hate Sam Winchester for what he’d done but you knew deep down that it was never that simple. You knew he had a point but you didn’t want to admit it.

Sam saw the way your jaw clenched angrily, the way your throat moved as you swallowed hard, and the way your eyes glistened with unshed tears. He took a step closer to you and reached a gentle hand out towards your arm, “I am sorry that you lost your best friend.”

For some reason, the gentle sincerity of his voice is what broke you. Tears fell down your face in hot streams as you cried. They weren’t tears for Beth’s death. Those had long been drained from you, many nights spent mourning what you’d lost. These tears were for the final snap of your animosity for the Winchester. You had spent so long hating him. You wanted to hate him, needed to hate him, but how the hell were you supposed to do that when he looked you in the eye and truly meant it when he said he was sorry.

There was a twinge of pain in his own green eyes that made you realize that he truly had experienced the same sort of heartache that you did and that he was sincerely apologetic for being the cause of it. But it was also clear that, while he was sorry for hurting you, he was not sorry for what he had done. Part of the cause for your tears was that you were angry with yourself for not being able to hate him, despite knowing that he didn’t regret killing Beth. You were crying because he was right. She had become a monster and, in his shoes, you probably would have done the same thing. You would have shot your best friend.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, voice shaky as you did.

Sam used his light grip on your arm to pull you in slowly for a hug, his large arms enveloping you in a surprisingly comforting embrace. You buried your face into his flannel, tears staining the fabric. One of his large hands gently cradled the base of your head while his other rubbed up and down your shaking back.

He didn’t know what to say anymore. Your response had honestly surprised him. The girl that he was used to receiving nothing but animosity from was now shaking in his arms and apologizing. “It’s okay,” was all Sam could think to mutter out.

He held you like that for a while, though you weren’t sure exactly how long it was. It could have been thirty seconds or thirty minutes and you would be none the wiser but all you knew was that you didn’t want Sam to let you go and, for once, you didn’t hate yourself for it. The tears had dried, leaving only slightly stiff feeling skin in their place. Your breath had long since stopped leaving your lungs in wracked hiccups. Your arms had moved from resting on his broad chest to being loosely wrapped around his waist at some point.

You pulled back first, lifting your head from his chest but keeping your hands on his body still. Sam lifted his cheek off your head, where it had been residing in a surprisingly soft show of affection, and he gazed down at you. You were amazed by how completely you had let your rage blind you. Before tonight, Sam was nothing more than scum to you but now, looking into his eyes after forgiving him, you realized that he was easily one of the most beautiful men you’d ever laid your eyes on.

Even with the tears now gone, Sam still saw the dim light of the cheap motel lamp sparkled against the color of your irises and damn if it wasn’t beautiful. He slid his hand up from your shoulder to gently brush away a few thin strands of hair that had stuck to your cheek while it was pressed against his chest- a feeling he found himself missing. His breath caught in his throat when you reached up to cover his hand with your smaller one, pressing it gently to stay on your cheek.

Your eyes slid closed and you gently nuzzled against his hand before opening your eyes again, reaching around his neck, and oh so slowly pulling him down while you perched on your tiptoes. There was more than enough time for Sam to pull away but he didn’t. In fact, much to your surprise, he closed the gap between you faster. His lips pressed to yours, rougher than you anticipated, but enjoyably nonetheless.

The breath was knocked out of your lungs and you struggled to breathe against his lips but refused to pull away. You bit his lip gently while you kissed, slipping your tongue against his when he gave in to what you were craving.

Sam reached down under your ass and lifted you without you even needing to jump. A squeal of surprise was swallowed by his lips as he walked you both to the bed. Once his legs bumped the old mattress, he sat down, lowering you to land on his lap. Your knees fell to either side of his hips where you gave an experimental rotation of your hips against his clothed erection. He let out a strangle exhalation at the friction, his fingers digging into your ass and pulling you harder onto him. The fabric of his rough jeans rubbed delicious against your clothed core, a wetness beginning to form in your panties.

Slowly, you pressed your weight forward and Sam allowed you to push him onto his back. You laid on top of him, lips moving from his lips down his neck but he didn’t let you get far. Sam placed a supportive hand on the small of your back and managed to flip you both over so he was on top and before you knew it, he was devouring you. Lips kissed hot trails across your face and down your neck, across the tops of your breasts that were ever so slightly revealed by your v-neck t-shirt.

Your fingers tangled in his long hair and he let out a breathy groan when you tugged on the brunette locks, pulling him closer to you. Sam crawled down your body, his hands sliding up underneath your shirt to run across your burning skin beneath. He felt like heaven and hell all in one, burning with fiery lust and yet so sweet and comforting despite the fervor with which he moved.

You pushed yourself up, pushing Sam to sit back on his knees while you did, all without breaking the kiss, to shrug off your jacket. Your shirt was next, falling onto the floor with your jacket before Sam pushed you backwards again, your back hitting the mattress. His large hand started low your belly, running straight up between the valley of your breasts and then raking downwards, pulling the cups of your bra down and grazing your nipples deliciously with his calloused fingers.

It had been so long since you’d been touched like this that even the small act had your back arching into his body. “Sam…” You breathed out, eyes sliding closed at the sensation. Every flick against your sensitive buds sent a shock straight to your core that had you hooking your leg around his hip, pulling him closer into you. Your hands ran up and down his large biceps before moving to pull the sleeves of his flannel down his arms. He only pulled away from you long enough to throw the restricting clothing on the ground, his shirt joining short after.

Your mouth started physically salivating at the sight of the man before you, sculpted by the gods. Defined pectorals and rippling abs covered his torso, adorned with a symbol that looked like a pentagram inside of a sun- a symbol you were unfamiliar with. Sam didn’t give you much time to marvel though because he was back to kissing a line down your body, the light stubble of his beard tickling the sensitive skin of your neck and chest. He stopped to revel in your breasts, wiggling his hands under your body to expertly unclasp your bra and shimmy it off you. The second they were revealed to him, his tongue was dragging across the supple sick and his teeth were lightly nibbling at the sensitive buds.

“Oh my gosh-” You let out in a breathy giggle. Sam switched breasts, giving the other equal attention. Your fingernails raked lightly over his shoulders and across his chest and you felt Sam shiver at the touch. His lips trailed lower and lower until they found the waistline of your jeans. With a quick flick of his fingers, the button was popped and the denim material was dragged down your legs, taking your socks with them as they were pulled over your ankles. He kissed his way back up your legs, from ankle until he slowly inched closer and closer to where you wanted him most.

His scruff scraped along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and you bit your lip at the sensation, unsure if you were trying to hold back a giggle from the ticklish feeling or a moan from the shocks it sent to your core. Sam chuckled to himself when he saw the wet patch of cloth over your clothed heat. He’d barely touched you and you were already dripping for him.

He had a wicked idea though. He got closer and closer to your sex, the smell intoxicating, and gripped your thighs tightly, possibly leaving bruises. Just when his lips were about to land on your core, he moved to the left, kissing your hip bones instead and back up your belly.

Annoyed by the teasing, you sat up, pulling Sam up gently by the hair to be face to face with you. Your ass was a few inches from the edge of the bed, toes just touching the ground, when you pushed Sam back just enough to be able to reach his pants. You hooked your fingers into the belt loops on either side of his pelvis and pulled him close to you. His forehead pressed flush against yours, “Are you gonna keep being a tease or are you gonna fuck me already, Winchester?”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. He made quick work of his remaining clothing and hovered over you like a predator about to move in for the kill. “You want me to just fuck you already?” He mimicked, voice low and testing. His green eyes bore into your own orbs with a challenge that you refused to back down from.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” You challenged, standing up and sliding your underwear down your legs, all while keeping unyielding eye contact with Sam. Once they left your form with a small flick of your toes, a dark smirk krept up on his face.

“Turn around.” He demanded and, while you were inwardly more than happy to comply, you didn’t want him to think he had you quite that easy.

You rolled your eyes as you did, an sinful smirk playing on your lips, “Yes, sir.” You chimed sarcastically.

Before you knew it, you were bent over at the waist, face and chest pressed into the mattress by Sam’s nearly crushing body. His hand snaked around your front, picking up some of your slickness on his fingers before circling your clit while he growled in your ear, “Don’t know what the attitude’s about. You’re the one who asked to get fucked.”

Your knees quivered at his filthy words while his fingers worked your clit slowly and painfully. His rock hard erection rubbed along your ass, teasing your entrance every now and again as he rocked his hips against your body. He stood up and removed his hand from your clit. Your hips moved back, trying desperately to chase his fleeting touch. Sam groaned when your body slid over his cock, skin burning against his own. After a few experimental tugs at his own member, he positioned himself at your entrance, giving you a few moments to back out if that was what you’d wanted. Backing out was so far from what you wanted though. You wanted - nay, needed - him inside of you and you needed him now. You were convinced you’d combust if he made you wait any longer.

His hands landed on your hips to help guide a slow thrust forward. His length gradually entered you, the searing stretch to accommodate him making your muscles contract around him. Sam hisses out a sound of pleasure, “You’re so tight.”

His first few thrusts were slow, each time managing to grind impossibly deeper into you. “Fuck, Sam.” Your fingers wound tightly in the sheets with each thrust of his hips and your eyes screwed shut as your breaths came out almost as hisses through grit teeth.

Sam used his leverage on your hips to move your body in time with his thrusts. Each motion sent your body into the mattress, the bed shaking as he pounded into you. You let out little squeaks of pleasure every now and again but Sam wanted to hear more out of the girl who’d had nothing to say to him but spiteful things for so long.

A large hand came to clasp around your throat, not tight enough to choke you but enough to guide you up. You pressed your body up to your feet sloppily on your hands but standing proved to be a difficult task with Sam still moving relentlessly into you. Your thighs were shaking, barely able to support your weight, as this new angle allowed for Sam to hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. His hand stayed around your throat, tightening along the sides of your neck when he lost himself in the way you felt around him- warm and soft. You were grateful that he was letting your head lull back against his shoulder otherwise you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stay upright.

Sam’s free hand first sloppily groped around the front of your chest until it found one of your breasts, kneading it roughly. The rough skin of his fingers grazed your nipples yet again, only adding to the pleasure you felt below. The knot was tightening and it was tightening fast.

“Please-” You managed to gasp out, not because of the choking (his grip wasn’t that tight) but because the electricity in the room seemed to have stolen your voice. Sam’s hand moved from your nipples down to your clit where he rubbed fast tight circles. “Oh my gosh, yes!” You whined, reaching up overhead to tangle your fingers in his hair. You forced his mouth down to meet yours and the pressure in your core snapped. Your moans and cries of pleasure were swallowed by Sam’s lips and he could have swallowed a thousand more.

He worked you through your orgasm until your body went limp in his arms. Slowly, he came to a stop before pulling out and quickly working himself in his hands. After catching your breath though, you turned back to Sam, placed your hands on his shoulders, and used them to spin the two of you around and push him back onto the bed. His long legs hung over the edge and you settled yourself between his knees, gently grasping his member, still slick with your wetness, and worked him with your hand.

Sam lied back on the white duvet, head thrown back in bliss at your touch. Your hand felt so much better than his own as it worked up and down his shaft before coming up to circle around the tip. He was rock hard and ready to burst at any given moment. When you leaned forward to like a long stripe along the underside of his cock, he was done for. A few more pumps and Sam fell apart in your hand, painting your hand and his stomach with his seed. “Shit!” The muscles of his abs contracted mesmerizingly as the waves of his high rolled over him.

Your hand slowed as his climax came to an end, his member softening in your hand. You wiped the mess he’d made on your hand on your breasts and stomach, knowing it would be easier to keep those parts of you off the covers than your hand. With a heavy sigh of crashing relief, your body fell onto the mattress beside Sam and you both stared at the ceiling in a fucked out post-coital haze.

“So, does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?” Sam asked after a few moments, surprising you with the genuine tone behind the semi-joking question.

You stared up at the chipping popcorn ceiling, “I didn’t for like two seconds but now I do again just because those were the first words out of your mouth.” Your voice was steady, unwavering, and Sam cringed inwardly, avoiding eye contact entirely. That is, until you sighed and continued, “But, I guess, if you wanted to take me out for a drink sometime there’s a slim chance I wouldn’t object.” This time, there was a teasing smile on your face when you turned your head to look at Sam.

[sevlgi]

sugar

requested: no

group: mamamoo

pairing: solar x fem!reader

genre: fluff?

contents: sugar mommy!solar, sugar baby!reader. [20/33]

warnings: implied sex

synopsis: The arrangement you have with your sugar mommy might just go a little out of control.

a/n: none

word count: 1.4k

Just a few months ago, you never thought you’d have a sugar mommy.

Sure, you considered it before- as a broke college student with barely enough time to sleep, there weren’t many options for you to earn money. The odd jobs you worked whenever you could barely made a dent on your student loans, and the ramen you bought in bulk didn’t exactly help.

Still, dating was the last thing on your mind, so when your best friend tried setting you up for a blind date, you were baffled. “Sooyoung, I’m not looking for a girlfriend right now.”

The brunette grimaced, still sifting through your closet with a fervor you’d never seen on her before. “I know. You’re focused on your studies, and earning money, and all of that.”

“Exactly,” you frowned, holding up the dress she tossed you. It was... skimpy, to say it nicely. “So why would you be forcing me to waste time going on a blind date when I could be studying?”

Joy sighed, handing you a pair of glittery heels now. “Look, Y/N, just trust me. Irene thinks you guys would be a really good match-”

“Wait, Irene? Your sugar mommy?” Horror dawned on you and you let go of the clothing in your lap as if it was poisoned. “Sooyoung-ah. You’re not trying to set me up with a sugar mommy, are you?”

She looked torn between answers, finally settling on pleading, “Just give her a chance. If it turns out badly, I’ll do all of your homework for a month. Two months- and you know how good I am at Chemistry.”

You opened your mouth, intending to continue protesting, but it made sense. Irene wasn’t old at all, barely 5 years older than Joy, and those two had a perfectly functioning relationship. If Irene knew the woman you were being set up with, it couldn’t be a cougar, and if you could earn money...

“Fine.” You picked up the clothing again, lips thinning when you saw how see-through the fabric was. “But I’m not wearing this.”

“Jesus, Sooyoung.”

Gaping at the restaurant, your hands tightened on the strap of the bag Irene had loaned you, the other two looking like they belonged in the Michelin-star restaurant. “What do you think?” Irene asked, flashing a smile to the guards outside.

“Um. I think I don’t belong here?” Even feeling the cold breeze on your exposed legs, you felt as if you were still in your coffee-stained hoodie and pajama pants, next to men in suits worth more than your life and women crowned with jewels that could buy a small country.

Joy flapped a hand at you; she had been Irene’s sugar baby for about a year, and was spoiled rotten, so of course she was used to the scene. “Nonsense, Y/N. You look beautiful. Y- she will be mesmerized.”

Irene waved a waitress over. “Could you bring Y/N to Ms. Kim’s table?”

“Of course.”

Your best friend, still clinging to the much shorter woman’s arm, waved at you. “Good luck, Y/N.”

“Damn you, Sooyoung,” you hissed as the waitress led you upstairs, to a much quieter room. There were still chandeliers hanging over each of the velvet booths, huge bouquets decorating each table, but at least nothing was bright gold.

The waitress finally stopped you at an empty booth. “Here you go, Ms. Y/L/N. Ms. Kim will be here shortly.”

“Oh. Okay.” The booths were incredibly soft under your bare skin when you sat, bowing in thanks when you were handed a menu. You gasped right out loud, though, when you read the prices of a simple soup.

“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” You nearly hit your knee on the underside of the table at the sound of someone’s voice beside you, your jaw nearly dropping to the richly carpeted floor at the sight of the person you knew was Ms. Kim.

Brunette hair was neatly slicked into a low ponytail, the top three buttons of her suit jacket unbuttoned to reveal smooth skin. The slight roundness to her face almost made her look innocent, though the dark brown of her eyes told you different. “You’re much more beautiful in real life, Y/N.”

God, her voice. You stood to bow quickly, still clutching the menu to your stomach. “Hi,” you managed to say, cursing internally at your own awkwardness.

The woman didn’t seem to notice, though, sliding into the booth opposite you and crossing her legs. “Do you know my name?”

“Uh. I know your last name is Kim, that’s about it,” you answered honestly, hesitantly sitting. “Sooyoung didn’t tell me much.”

“Call me Yongsun, then,” the woman smiled, extending a hand over the table. Her grip was firm, contrasting the soft perfumed skin of her hands. “So, tell me about yourself. Joohyun didn’t tell me much about you either.”

You nodded obediently, sipping lightly at the wine the waitress poured out earlier. “Well, I’m a college student. Um, I’m pretty broke.”

“I gathered. How much do you want in a week, then? 3000?”

“What?” Blinking rapidly, you stared at the gorgeous woman sitting across from you.

Yongsun shrugged, cocking her head. “You heard me. Or do you want more?”

“Um. We didn’t even agree to do this yet, Yo- Ms. Kim.”

She smiled at you, looking so much younger than someone who could be so rich. “Right. I’ll be frank with you, Y/N. I think you’re beautiful.” When you flushed and tried to protest, she held up her hand, continuing, “And I’m willing to pay. I don’t have time to date, really, so all I want from you is companionship.”

“Nothing... more?” you tested, tasting lip gloss when you wet your lips. “Like sex? I heard that’s what most sugar mommies want.”

Leaning forward, Yongsun picked up her own wine glass. “If you’re comfortable, that’ll come with time. So what do you say? You can back out any time you want, if you agree. I won’t hold anything against you.”

You accepted her handshake, despite the tiny little voice in the back of your mind screaming for you to stop. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

In the next couple of weeks, you learned that Yongsun was the CEO of an entertainment company, and that she was the same age as Irene. She preferred Givenchy over Gucci, red wine over white, and she liked diamonds.

Especially on you.

It was all moving far too quickly to be rational, but for whatever reason, something about Yongsun made you trust her. She was kind, never pushed you, and respected you like an actual human even with your arrangement.

It’d be a lie to say you weren’t drunk when you kissed her for the first time, but the expensive whiskey lingering at the back of your throat only serve the purpose of giving you enough courage to do what you wanted.

Anyway, Yongsun stopped you from doing anything further. “I do want to kiss you, (Y/N), but I want you to remember every second of it when I do,” she told you, your heart only beating a million times faster when she did.

After that, kisses became normal, mostly initiated by you. In barely 3 months, you grew closer, and closer, and closer, until there was no room left between you.

Yongsun’s sheets were silky smooth on you, warm where your limbs tangled with the older woman’s. Diamonds still dripped from her ears and her throat even with the bareness of the rest of her, the purpling markings from your lips staining her pale collarbones.

“Was that okay?” she asked you softly, tilting her head to look at you with soft hair splayed out around her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect,” you breathed out, still panting just the slightest bit. “But Yongsun, you need to know that I didn’t just do that because you bought me a diamond necklace.”

She raised her eyebrows, fingers lingering on the delicate chain of jewels nestled against you. “Then why did you?”

Your fingers curled around hers, holding her hand close to you. “I feel something for you. I don’t know why, and I don’t know what it is, but I do.”

“So do I, Y/N,” Yongsun smiled, ethereal. “And we have all the time in the world to explore it.”

[chibi-honey-cake]

Imposter in Our Midst - Imposter x Crewmates

Okay, so this is some A.mong U.s/Within Us content, whoo-hoo! Yeah, that’s right, besides the Voretober content! (I have another Within Us story written up for the Ship entry already~) So to be fair, this was written in like 2 hours, barely proofread, and is WHOLLY inspired by this post over on @nom-central​’s blog by a lovely anon named Vee. Vee, this is your fault, so this is for you! Also with bonus additions from the tags. So have this take on some ali-yum noms~

Contains: Soft Vore, Safe Vore, Fearplay, Teasing, Same Size Vore, Nonbinary Pred, Alien Pred, Unspecified Prey, Multiple Prey, Female Prey, Willing Prey (eventually), Begging Pred (eventually), Fatal is briefly mentioned but it doesn’t happen, also a bit of magic shrinking is involved to explain the multiple prey thing Word Count: 2.5K

She'd seen it gobble up another crewmate with her own eyes, stuffing them into a wide maw on their stomach and swallowing them up. The 'crewmate' in the black suit purred loud, patting their belly as it shrank to contain the other being without a trace. Chloe gasped and dropped the clipboard in her hands out of shock, the loud clatter immediately giving her away.

Black whipped to stare in her direction, the lime-suited scientist felt her blood freeze in fright. No...! This wasn’t happening...!! Black growled low and deep, dark tentacles springing from their back as their stomach growled loudly. Drool slicked what should've been their face-shield, a grin splitting their visor.

The voice in the back of her head whispered 'run,' and that was all that it had taken to free up her legs. She bolted out of the room, fright fueling her desperation. She heard the monster in human's clothing tear after her and she knew that if she made one wrong move, it was over for her. Chloe fled through the facility, careening around a doorway so fast that she almost slammed into the wall in her panic. She knew it was practically breathing down her neck- she couldn't let it catch her!

She ducked through the lab, slipping through a decontamination cycle with ease. She thought it might trip up the monster after her as she turned to check the doors- but a loud and ominous creaking filled the room. Those black tentacles seeped between the doors, prying them slowly apart with pressure alone. An alarm started squealing as Chloe's voice quavered a cry- this thing was strong and intent on catching her!

She bolted as soon as the other doors opened, not looking back to see the creature forcing its way through the first door. Into the greenhouse she fled, the humidity fogging her face shield quickly. She slapped her helmet open, panting in terrified exertion. She couldn't let it catch her- her only chance was to make a quick loop on the catwalks and avoid the carnivorous plants that they were studying, then bolt into the decontamination again and hope that the monster has to pry open the doors again. Chloe didn't want to think about if this plan didn't work...!

She ran out onto the catwalks, her footsteps shaking and echoing on the metal grating. The vines of the plants twitched and twisted at the new and erratic movement, sensing a meal in their midst. Chloe swallowed, panicking as the heads of the large purple 'flowers' began to turn and open in her direction. Now she was being hunted by even MORE creatures...! She ran down the middle path out of desperation, hoping that the monster couldn't follow her through such a busy path. Rustling and thumping rattled the metal pathway beneath her- she had no clue how many of those vines had just barely missed her.

She turned to run to the left- but a sudden shadow loomed in front of her and blocked her path. She shrieked, recoiling back and stumbling over her own feet. She fell back onto the grating hard, the rattle of metal echoing in her ears as she looked up in terror. It was the creature, still in the form of the black crewmate, grinning wide with its impossible face. Two sets of eyes opened on its visor, that grin stretching wide enough to reach up to the sides of its 'face'. Its stomach growled, loud, low and angry.

Chloe gasped, scrambling back on the pathway in fear. Everything else was forgotten. Her pulse pounded in her ears. This was it, this is where it was going to end- But rather than pounce, the creature... tilted its head with that grin still on its face. And then it spoke.

"Lofton, Chloe." Its voice was low and hissing, sending shivers down her spine as it said her name, "Role: Technician." It was almost purring, approaching with slow steps. She tried to crawl back further, it hovered close before she could. "Intelligent, but oblivious," it grinned wide as it stood over her, its belly beginning to split like it had before. Chloe whimpered, remembering flashes of Red being stuffed down into its gullet. "I wondered how long it would take for someone to notice my- eating habits." She shivered, the alien creature standing almost directly over her now. The maw in its belly opened, teeth and tongue visible inside. "I've been waiting to devour you for so long..." it purred, staring down at her ravenously, "I saved the best for last~"

Above this creature, movement caught Chloe's eye. She shifted her attention, still terrified- when she noticed one of the open flowers moving above them. The creature hadn't noticed, reaching down towards her... But it took a moment to realize that her attention had moved to something ABOVE. The creature in human guise halted, squinting its eyes. Just as it turned to look above them, vines lurched downward towards the two figures. A look of dawning horror crossed the alien's face just as it was suddenly ensnared in the tough vines of the flower.

The creature let out an unholy shriek, thrashing against the grip on its body as another vine added to the mix. Chloe gawked, her jaw falling open as the plant scooped away her attacker. It was- It was trying to eat the creature? Chloe sat up in complete shock and mild terror. That was... That was almost her. She was just almost eaten...! But... From what they had found out about the flowers, it was not pleasant for victims. Being consumed over days, alive for most of that... It was a terrible, painful death.

The alien shrieked again, a grinding and desperate rasp as it fought. Its tentacles tangled in the vines, but they didn't seem to be able to pry them off. Chloe hesitated, working herself to her feet as she stared. It... As much as it was as close to eating her as it was being eaten right now... She couldn't just stand by in good conscience. Even though it had eaten her crewmates, she couldn't let this happen when she could do something. This was- crazy and practically suicide, if not from the plant then from the victim... But she didn't want to just stand by!

The girl sprang into action, leaping up onto the rail to meet the vines that were taking the alien away. She reached out, grasping at the vines. The alien whipped around to stare at her, all four eyes wide with terror and astonishment. Chloe ignored the look, gritting her teeth as she tugged. The vines gave slightly, but started to tighten further. She grunted, using her feet on the railing to anchor herself. The plant was trying to draw both of them towards its open flower and she wouldn't let that happen!

In the back of her head, her mind told her that the alien had clearly spoken english- so it understood her. She reached out, trying to free the black imposter. "Grab onto me!" she ordered, "Hold on and I'll get you loose!" The creature hesitated, clearly mystified on why she was attempting to help it. But after a second, she saw its tentacles shift. It let go of the vines around it and the black tentacles reached for her instead. They wrapped around her shoulders and waist, anchoring them together. She resisted the urge to shudder at the strange sensation and reached her arms out to it again. "Link arms with me!" she told it. Quickly it obeyed, reaching out and grasping her arms.

Chloe grasped its arms just the same, steadied herself on the rail, then pulled backwards with all of her strength. She strained and heaved as hard as she could manage, her voice trailing with a high groan. Her teeth were on edge, her arms trembled as her legs pushed back, and the alien stared at her with terror in its eyes. Slowly the vines started to give, creaking and slipping away from the other creature. They found that if a meal was too much of a fight, the plants would back off. Apparently Chloe was triggering that, more vines slipping. "Come... ONNNN!" she grunted, strain tight in her voice.

Then suddenly the creature was freed. It bundled into her from force alone, both of them colliding and spilling painfully onto the walkway. Chloe panted and gasped, reeling from exertion and the fast trip. Suddenly there was a tug at her arms, pulling her to her feet. "Quickly!" the creature hissed, yanking her along. She followed blindly, running behind it without regard to what was going on.

They ran back into decontamination, not stopping as they ran past the ruined door and into the lab. Finally Chloe could run no more, tripping over her own feet and skidding to a stop on the floor. She gasped for air, involuntary tears trailing from her eyes. Everything hurt, her heart was pounding out of her chest, she was absolutely terrified... And she was probably about to meet the same fate as her crewmates. The thought occurred to her that she saved this creature and it was probably still going to eat her anyway. A quiet sob shuddered her shoulders as she laid prone on the floor, the girl giving up then and there. She wouldn't be able to fight it, anyway...

Black boots appeared in her vision, sluggish tears making her vision wobble. This was it... But rather than grabbing her in those tentacles like she thought- A soft hand patted her head instead. Still the tears flowed, stopping wasn't an option at this point. She whimpered a soft sob as the hand stroked her head gently. "Hush, human," the low voice above her soothed softly, "It is alright. Don't be afraid."

"B-But..." her voice stammered shakily without her consent, clogged with mucus and exhaustion, "You'rrrre... gonna eat muh-me... t-too..."

"I will not," it responded softly, "You risked your life to rescue me, even when I was trying to devour you and your crew..." There was a low purr and Chloe dared to look up at the creature, her tear-stained face meeting its distorted one. Its eyes were narrowed with concern, that impossible grin gone and replaced with a soft frown. "That is more than I have ever been offered before. There is nothing stronger than a sacrifice like that."

Chloe sniffled, reaching up to wipe the thick tears on her cheeks. Mostly she just spread them with her lime gloves. "You're... not gonna... eat me...?" she asked slowly, still sniffling and panting. Her tears had slowed but were still leaking from her green eyes.

The creature shook their head. "No," it replied, "You are safe." Chloe paused briefly... Then let out a shuddering, sobbing breath as she collapsed on the floor again. Relief flooded her as a few more tears squeezed out of her eyes, her hands grasping feebly at the tile. She was safe... The black suit turned and sat down in front of her, still reaching out to pet her head. "And I want you to know your crewmates are safe as well," the creature added.

"Huh?" she asked, glancing up at the larger figure, "But..." She sniffled, rubbing her wet cheeks again. "D-Didn't you... eat them?"

"Yes," it replied without hesitation, "But they are safe." It reached up to its midsection, patting it with its free hand. "Within me. I have a device that shrinks and places others inside into stasis. They are safe, just asleep." Chloe looked to its hand, then back to its face in confusion. The creature hesitated, then began to explain further. "I was ordered to covertly capture and deliver the humans to our base for observation," it spoke slowly, "But... I believe it might be best if I observe here... plainly instead?"

Chloe sniffled, mulling the words over. There was a pause between them, then she looked up... and gave the creature a soft, watery smile. "Y-Yeah..." she replied. It broke into its own wide smile, creasing its four eyes up with happiness. Chloe paused, wiping her cheeks again. "Um..." she started slowly, "What, um... What do I- call you? Since you'll be around?"

The creature hesitated, then leaned down to her face. "I... That is very private. True designations are private among my kind," it explained quietly.

Chloe frowned, realizing that she probably had overstepped a boundary already. "I-I'm sorry," she murmured, "I didn't mean to... ask something so personal-"

But the creature's hand reached out to her, shushing her with a soft tap to her lips. It smiled again. "But I will tell you. No one else must know my real designation- it is only for you to know."

=-=-=-=-=

It had taken a while, but now Imp was a regular part of the crew. Ever since the incident, Imp stuck close to Chloe for the most part. It often had to be reminded that it too had tasks to accomplish. It had sworn off all covert activities and made a pact not to hurt anyone on the crew.

But one of the things that separated Imp from the others was that it still craved live meals. It still desired prey to wriggle inside and mostly the crewmates served that role safely. However, the one that Imp seemed to crave the most was Chloe, whining and begging through the loud growling of its tummy.

"Please, please, Techie," it whined, its black head nuzzling against her own as she connected wires in the barracks, "Please, I'm so hungry... Please, I just want a little taste, a little moving inside, please?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, stepping over to the laundry chute. "Lemme dump this-" she started before Imp was nuzzling her again.

"Please, Techie..." it begged, a loud whining growl of its stomach matching its words. "Please let me swallow you, I'm starving..."

Chloe pulled the handle with a sigh, shaking her head as she let go. "Now I'm done," she announced, "You're free to eat me, then-"

Tentacles lashed out, snaring the smaller human by the waist as Imp grinned. Drool slicked its jaw as its belly opened to reveal those teeth again. "Thank you.... Thank you!" it purred, practically shoving her into its stomach. Chloe grunted and fidgeted as the huge tongue in its belly curled around her, pulling her in greedily. One quick slurp was all it took and the jaws closed over her and sealed her in. A swallow tucked her deep into the damp, slick, and familiar confines of the imposter's belly.

Imp sank to the floor with a long, grateful sigh. Its belly rested on the floor, full of the smaller human. It caressed the lump in its middle lovingly, both arms and all of its tentacles getting in on the act. The growling had turned to sated grumbles and gurgles and the human's wriggling inside felt amazing. Its toes curled, a low thrumming churr pouring from its mouth. "Delicious... as always, my dear Techie..."

Chloe kept up her 'struggles' inside, making sure to reach all the sensitive areas she had mapped out in her head. "Mmph... A-Anything for you, Rinth," she murmured over a burble beneath her.

The imposter melted from her movement inside, then from her use of its real name. "And for you... Chloe..." it whispered reverently.

[solomonish]

From the Mouths of Fools

Belphegor has a habit of forcing his brothers into trouble, mostly with you. There’s nothing more satisfying than the look of horror on their face when they think they must have dashed their chances with you and that they’re digging the hole deeper. Each time, you reach out a hand and ease their worries, and Belphegor’s stomach twists as you tell them with kind eyes not to worry, that they’re very sweet. Why did you have to be such a spoilsport?

(also posted on ao3 @ treetunkdaddy)

Poems:  A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns, I Carry Your Heart With Me by E. E. Cummings, I Love You by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Love Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda

Leviathan: I love you. Leviathan: I love you more than anyone else in this world. You: Thanks! Leviathan: Happy now? Leviathan: As I thought, this was the right thing to say.

You stared at your phone screen for a moment longer with one eyebrow raised. Something here wasn’t right. Though you weren’t some grand detective, you could tell that the texts didn’t sound like Levi at all Even beyond the sudden boldness, if you pictured Levi texting those messages you could only imagine him with a rain cloud over his head as he hunched over his phone in sorrow. The somber tone didn’t match his usual excitement. Maybe he was trying to get into character for some sort of cosplay…? Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to figure out if he had mentioned getting into character for something. Still, there was no way he wouldn’t know all the lines of a character he was trying to embody, and it seemed far-fetched that he’d choose something so...overt, let alone practice it with you.

Before you could distract yourself too much from the tasks you were supposed to be working on, a solid oof a few feet away from your door caught your attention. You could just barely hear a half-hearted grumble barely covering the low boyish giggles of a scheming Belphegor as Levi freaked out in a jumble of words that sounded more like a keysmash than an argument. A moment later, you got another slew of texts that seemed much more like the demon you knew.

Leviathan: AAAEWAGVNAFBPEABD Leviathan: WAAAAAIT! Leviathan: I take that back! Leviathan: AARGH, no, that’s not what I meant! Leviathan: I left my D.D.D. on the couch and Belphie ran off with it!

Ah. That made sense. It also explained the nervous energy you could practically feel radiating from where the two demons undoubtedly still lay in a heap. With a devious look on your face, you tapped away at your phone.

You: I took a screenshot of it!

You were right about one of them being outside your door. You could hear Levi’s startled yelp, followed shortly by frantic footsteps running down the hall to his door. The three dots danced on your screen as the sound got quieter, the message reaching you just as the door to Levi’s room slammed shut.

Leviathan: No, you can’t! Delete that ASAP! DELETEIIIITTTTT!

Snickering to yourself, you hefted yourself out of your seat and opened your door to peer out into the hallway. A little ways to your left, Belphie lay sprawled out on the carpet with a half-dazed expression on his face. Taking care to keep your footsteps quiet in case he actually was asleep, you bent over his face to look at his half-lidded eyes. After a moment of shifting into focus, Belphie gave you a lazy smile and patted the floor next to him.

“You should join me,” He offered. “The carpet is surprisingly soft.”

“Yeah, and surprisingly dirty,” You added, gently toeing at his shoulder as if that would spur him to move.

“If you stare at the pattern on the ceiling and let your eyes get unfocused, it’s real easy to fall asleep,” He suggested. You turned your head to look at the ceiling, seeing nothing but a boring, dark texture above you. If you squinted, you could almost make out swirls in the paint. Maybe demons had a better time seeing details in the dark.

Beneath you, Belphie hummed contentedly, folding his hands at his stomach. He almost looked like he was sunbathing in a meadow, surrounded by fragrant flowers - the image made your heart jump the slightest bit. Maybe, if that was the case, you would have joined him. Lying next to him as a gentle breeze danced over your skin and the tall grass kissed your skin...that didn’t seem like a bad way to spend an afternoon.

“Hey,” Belphie asked suddenly, holding you in a serious stare. It was one he didn’t bother to give you often, saving it only for when you trespassed him so greatly he needed to make it known (more often than not when he told you how lame Lucifer was if you mentioned how he’s helped you with some administrative details for the exchange program). “What did you feel when Levi sent you that message?”

“What?” You asked, shaken by the jarring change in his voice. He sounded much more stern, and though it was hard to tell while looking at him upside down, you were pretty sure he was holding you in a glare, albeit a very gentle one.

“Did it make you happy?” He asked. “That he might love you?”

Your face flushed at the personal question and you averted your gaze, missing the way Belphie’s gaze hardened at your reaction. “I-I knew they weren’t from Levi,” You answered, shaking your head and looking back at Belphie. “They sounded way too suave for him. I thought maybe he was playing a character, or something. I didn’t think they meant anything.”

“You thought they didn’t mean anything…” Nodding, Belphie’s mouth twisted in thought as he looked just past your shoulder blankly. Suddenly his arms shot up and he grabbed at the air a few times, shutting off any gateway to questions you might have. “Help me up. I wanna nap somewhere softer than this where I won’t get trampled.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned the idea of leaving him there around once before shifting to his side and pulling him up. He took the chance to stumble into you, jamming his chin into your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck. Instead of feeling his breath tickle your skin, however, you felt his hair brush against you as he adjusted, eventually stopping once he was satisfied. You realized for a moment he was listening for your pulse, and your breathing shallowed on instinct, as if you wanted him to hear it. He didn’t tell you what he was listening for, only groaning when you started to ask him to let go so you could resume your day.

“Mmmm….maybe I should nap here? So comfy….” He murmured. Though he made no move to let go, he also didn’t fight you when you finally separated him from your body. Giving him a farewell smile, you turned your back to leave, not seeing his face fall in displeasure.

---

A few days later, there was a book on your bed that you were positive wasn’t there when you left that morning.

Dropping your backpack unceremoniously by your door, you peered at the worn cover to see it was an old collection of romantic poems. There was no suspicious Latin on the cover, now jewels (or missing jewels) to indicate it was a spellbook or otherwise enchanted, so you picked it up. Upon closer inspection, you saw it was a collection of human poems, many of which you read in your early school days. There were a few multicolored tabs stuck in it, no apparent rhyme or reason to their placement. Though it looked to be Satan’s book, you couldn’t imagine him risking getting adhesive on the worn pages. Curious, you flipped to the first marked page and scanned it, face flushing almost immediately.

O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune.

Flipping to the next marked page, your face turned an even deeper red as they scanned the page.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you

Each page you turned to gave you smooth velvet words that someone very clearly wanted to direct at you, each getting more intimate than the last. Every poem you read sent more blush to your face until you were positive another word would have you passing out.

I love your lips when they’re wet with wine And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when the lovelight lies Lit with a passionate fire. I love your arms when the warm white flesh Touches mine in a fond embrace; I love your hair when the strands enmesh Your kisses against my face.

Honeyed words of Shakespeare and Dickinson forced your heart to pump faster in your chest than you ever thought possible. Though your body really did feel like it might collapse under the affection the poems held, you couldn’t stop yourself from flipping through. Even though it was clear these poems weren’t written for you, the slightest implication that someone could think so highly of you had your head spinning. Before long, you were skimming the last marked page, barely able to catch your breath.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

A loud roar of Belphegor’s name shook you out of your love-stricken trance. Slamming the book shut as if you’d been caught doing something wrong, you listened to the hasty, angry footsteps of Satan right outside your door. The closer he got, you could hear his heavy breathing as he fought to contain his anger. “Where is that book? I know you were the last person in my room!”

Though the thought of being on the receiving end of Satan’s anger was enough to send you running, you slowly cracked open your door and peered out. Satan immediately whipped his head around to look at you, softening just a bit in an effort to let you know that you weren’t what he was after.

In a timid voice, you asked, “Which book would you happen to be looking for?”

“It was a collection of poems. You wouldn’t have happened to see it, would you?”

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door all the way and held the book out to him. Snatching it out of your hands, Satan widened his eyes at the tabs. “Did you-”

“It was like that!” You defended. Satan realized you were jumpy and slowly inhaled, willing himself to calm down before you continued. “It was on my bed when I came home.”

With a gruff hum, Satan nodded at your explanation before flipping through the marked pages. “It’s alright, (Y/n). It’s not your fault. I’m positive Belphie was the one who took it since he was-”

Stopping mid-sentence, Satan flushed a deep red once he read which poems were marked to be read. “O-oh,” He murmured, pulling at his sweater collar and clearing his throat. “This is...these are pretty romantic, huh?”

“Well, it is a love poem collection,” You offered helpfully with a shrug. As if he didn’t believe you, Satan looked at the cover himself.

“I hope you didn’t mistake my intent. I didn’t mean for this book to end up in your care.”

“Ouch,” You hissed through your teeth. “Aren’t you a heartbreaker?”

Satan’s eyes widened before he furrowed his brows and backed a few steps away. “No, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that.” Heaving a sigh, he placed a hand on his chest and shut his eyes as he scowled. “Thank you for returning it to me. Have a good day.”

Satan turned on his heel and walked briskly away, leaving you to chuckle at the empty space before retreating back to your room. On your bed, beneath where the book was, lay a green sticky note you had missed in the excitement. Picking it up, you saw a note scrawled in messy handwriting that made you question just how genuine these advances were.

I’m not the best at expressing myself with words. Maybe if I borrow the words of others, you can finally know how I feel.

---

The pattern continued for a few days, with each brother falling victim to one of Belphie’s tricks. Each time, they managed to fluster themselves to impossible standards, aside from Asmo who insisted he never sent you that love letter and don’t you know how beautiful his handwriting is like the rest of him? Oh, but if a love letter was what you were after, he’d send mountains and mountains until you just couldn’t resist him anymore-

By that time, you had gently shut the door in his face and jogged back to your room, just as red as the rest of the brothers were when it was their time to be the victim. Belphegor even managed to send you an email with a fake account with a name so similar to Lucifer’s you almost didn’t catch the differences. By that time, you saw through his jokes and simply asked:

You: Really? An email? lvcifer.pride@dmail.com: What? He’s such a loser that I wouldn’t put it past him.

Even now, over a week since the last incident, Mammon was shouting in the hall as he kept running circles around himself, demanding Belphie to stop making advances on his human and to stop making him look like a fool. Without fail, Belphie always asked, “Oh? Is it foolish to think highly of the human?” Mammon was sent into a new frenzy every time.

By the time they were finished, you were exhausted just from listening to their incessant bickering. Mammon had scurried off, desperate to hide his embarrassment, while Belphie slumped down on the couch next to you and gave you a lazy grin. This time, you couldn’t bring yourself to return it. The antics had to stop.

“I think you should stop using me as a tool to mess with your brothers,” You said, not yet unpausing the show you were watching before the fighting started. Belphie scrunched his face and looked at you without moving his head.

“No can do. It’s too fun to see how desperately they try to save your honor from themselves. Idiots.”

Cringing at the insult, you continued, “Okay, but can you stop with the love advances? It’s a bit...much.”

Finally moving, Belphie turned his head to give you a scrutinizing look you didn’t understand before relaxing back into the couch. “Sure,” He answered humorlessly, tone dry and brittle with what was, to you, misplaced disgust. “It was losing its charm anyway.”

Now he was sulking, and you had half a mind to press play and just ignore his bitter mood. Still, you didn’t mean to make him pout, even if you had no idea where it came from and therefore weren’t exactly responsible for the shift. Sighing, you turned your back on him and leaned back, moving so your head was resting on his slumped chest. Without sparing you a look, Belphie reached his slim finger up and slowly carded them through your hair, making no effort to comb any tangles and deciding to ruffle it instead.

“I would like to know what’s got you in such a sour mood,” You said bluntly, turning your head to watch Belphegor stare at the ceiling blankly. Other than the occasional slow blink, you would have thought he had fallen asleep with how long it took him to respond. You knew better than to think he was ignoring you - he was either thinking of an answer he was satisfied to give or teasing you, seeing how long you’d wait for him and then pointing out how much you must value what he has to say if you’d wait that long.

“You enjoyed it too much,” He finally said, keeping his gaze from yours.

“I enjoyed it?” You repeated, narrowing your eyes. “I can assure you, I enjoyed none of what happened.”

“The fighting, maybe,” He agreed. “But I heard you tell Levi you thought it’d be sweet if he had texted you. I saw your face when you thought the poems were from Satan.”

“You were there?” Trying to remember the scene with Satan, you ran a hand partially through your hair and rested your palm on your forehead.

“The love letter, the gift basket, everything- you enjoyed it before you realized it was fake.”

“Belphegor, where were you?” You asked, knowing he would ignore your question. How many other times had he been secretly watching you without your knowledge? The thought made you shiver.

Clearly disgruntled, Belphegor growled at your questions before rolling his eyes. “At first I was just messing with you, but I never would have guessed you would sooner take sweet nothings from the mouths of fools before you’d ever take the real deal from me when I offer it out to you.”

Blinking rapidly, you felt your face warm and your heartbeat stutter for the thousandth time this week. “You...you never offered me anything,” you answered dumbly. Displeasure flickered across Belphie’s face before he sighed again and slumped further down, forcing your head down with him.

“Of course I didn’t. The others did, but not me,” He replied in such a way that barely hid the frustration in his tone, but the irony he was lamenting was lost on you. Sitting up, you shifted to sit on your knees and bent over Belphie to look at him.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. Belphie turned his head away, but you grabbed his cheeks and gently pulled them towards you so he could face you directly. “Belphie, tell me what you were trying to do.”

For a moment, Belphie wondered if he could just slump out of your grasp and lock himself back in the attic, clear by the pondering expression he wore on his face. You squished his face a little tighter, just enough to keep him in place and speak up. “I guess...I was hoping you would think the love letters and everything were from them and you’d reject them.” He looked to the side to avoid the pity you couldn’t hide on your face, his gaze unintentionally hardening. “Why didn’t you reject them? You should have rejected them.”

“I knew it wasn’t real! I was just trying to make them feel better,” You defended. Swiping your hand away from him, Belphie lifted himself up so he was sitting straight and crossed his arms, the image of a petulant child. “Is this...is this your version of a confession?”

Though he did his best to maintain his glare, Belphie couldn’t fight the light pink that tinted his cheeks. “So what if it is?”

Thoroughly pleased with yourself, you sat back on your heels and pretended you needed to mull things over. His hair was covering his eye and he kept his head turned away from you, but you could feel Belphie’s pensive gaze on you as you made your decision. Grinning and leaning closer, you asked, “Is this another prank?”

You felt his cold hands on either side of your face before you even saw him move. He glowered at you with no heat, putting on an upset show. If anything, he was more upset that you insisted on teasing him when you were so nice to the others. “If you can look at me and say you think I’m pranking you right now, you really are just a stupid human.”

Your grin widened. “A stupid human you’d have no qualms about kissing, though, right?”

There was no need to answer you with words when showing you was much more enjoyable.

[waiting4inspiration]

Darkness before Dawn IV: You

Summary: Your father requests your presence at breakfast, something that only happens when he has news. At breakfast, you find out what the spirit haunting you wants. 

Warnings: angst, strong language, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse, blood, hauntings, horror themes, mentions of infidelity

Word Count: 2,912

Darkness before Dawn Masterlist II The Witcher Masterlist

You don’t remember falling asleep. But you wake up when your handmaiden, Inga walks into the room and opens the curtains to let in the sunlight. But your eyes don’t land on her as she greets you and tells you how great the weather is outside. Your eyes land on a pale figure standing by the fireplace. A woman. Not like the other figures that have attacked you before who have been male. 

There’s a bruised mark around her neck, like she had been strangled. And something inside you tells you that you don’t have to be afraid of her. Especially when she turns and walks away, disappearing through the stonewall behind her. 

“Everything alright, miss?” Inga questions, her eyes flickering between you and the spot you’re staring at with a frown on her face. 

Tearing your gaze away from the empty spot to look at her, you put on a brave smile and slowly slip off the bed. “Everything’s fine,” you whisper, your hand going to your bandaged arm when you feel an ache in it. Something tells you that it’s going to scar. Whether it will be bad or good, that’s something you’ll have to wait to see. 

Your single handmaiden smiles back at you and glances down at your forearm. “Perhaps something with a loose sleeve today?” she questions, turning around to look for something that will accommodate her suggestion when you nod in affirmation. 

That’s when you glance around the room, searching for Geralt as if last night’s interaction was just a dream. But the turned chair in the corner where you remember him sitting tells you that it wasn’t a dream. You wonder where he went, how long he had gone, why he thought it was a good idea to leave you alone after what happened last night when that spirit tried to strangle you. 

“Your father has requested your presence at breakfast this morning despite the queen’s protests,” Inga speaks, breaking you out of your thoughts and making your head turn back towards her as she walks forward with a pale blue dress in her hands. 

She shocks you with her words, your eyes growing wide as your mouth slightly drops. “What?” It’s only on occasion that your family has breakfast together and that only happens when news has to be shared. You almost expect your mother to come storming into your room to remind you about your place and how you have to keep your mouth shut. 

But she doesn’t come. She doesn’t even barge in as Inga helps dress you and put braids in your hair. 

“The Witcher, did you see him on your way here?” you question, glancing up at her through the mirror as she puts finishing touches in your hair - small, white flower-like clips - that hold the braids together. 

Inga smiles as a giggle leaves her lips. “He had just walked out of your room as I was about to enter,” she states, looking at you with a smirk on her face. “He spent the night with you?”

You notice the suggestive tone in her voice and it makes you blush and glance down to your hands. “It wasn’t like that. He...distracted me from what happened,” you whisper, biting your lip as you lightly stroke the bandage on your arm. Inga knows better than to ask what happened. She heard from the other servants in the castle what happened at the feast, why you have the bandage on your arm. Why the Witcher is roaming around the castle and will be staying for a while. “The conversations I had with him last night were unlike any I’ve had with Jaskier,” you chuckle, looking back up at her with a bright smile on your face. 

She moves to your side, making you turn to face her as he takes your hands in hers. “You like him?” You bite your lips in guilt at her question, making her chuckle as she pulls you up to stand. “That’s good. Because I can tell you and he are going to be spending a lot of time together. Especially if he’s protecting you against this…” she trails off, gasping when she realizes what she was about to say and slowly lets go of your hands. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t speak of such things,” she mutters, scolding herself and turning to walk away. 

You look back at the spot beside the fireplace where you saw that woman. And you think of Geralt’s words. You think about how he said that some spirits just want to talk, how they want help. Some spirits aren’t malicious like that one that attacked you. 

You’re sure that both times, it was the same man. The same demented soul that has tried to harm you. 

A knock on the door makes your head turn away from where you’re staring at and you watch Inga walk to answer it. All your worries get pushed aside when you see Jaskier’s smile greet you as the door opens. “Well, don’t you look like a princess, (Y/n),” he teases, making you laugh as he steps forward, holding his arms out so you can walk forward and hug him. 

“And you look like a bard. How shocking,” you tease back, making him chuckle as you pull away. “I hope you found a decent place to sleep,” you say, walking beside him when he starts to walk towards the door. And you give Inga a thankful smile as you pass, like you always have done. 

Jaskier chuckles and glances down at you with a smirk on his face. “Decent enough,” he speaks, making you roll your eyes at him and playfully swat him with your arm. “So, Geralt spent the night with you. Did you two get along?” he questions, that same smirk on his face that he had when he left you with the Witcher grows on his face again. 

You frown at that and narrow your eyes at him. “You planned for us to meet?” you question back, your face falling when you see a defeated look on his face. “Jaskier.”

“Okay, yes. I planned for you to meet. But not like this,” he gives up, making you stop in your tracks and fold your arms over your chest while minding your wounds. “I thought you two would get along well. And you’re both very close to me. Is it wrong for wanting him to meet my best friend, (Y/n) and for you to meet...my dear friend, Geralt?” he asks, turning to face you again as you fight the smile starting to grow on your face. “So, tell me. Did you two get along?” he questions again.

Laughing as you start to walk again, you drop your arms to your sides and breathe out a sigh. “Well, after I was attacked again and couldn’t sleep, I asked if he would keep my mind off of things,” you start, keeping your eyes in front of you to avoid the cocky look on his face. “And at first, he was a little stiff and...hesitant, I suppose,” you add, shrugging your shoulder as you look up at him. 

“But he warmed up to you, didn’t he?” Jaskier says, making a small blush grow on your cheeks as you glance down to the ground and bite your lip. “I knew you two would get along,” he sings, playfully pushing your shoulder with his. 

You feel a stare on the back of your head and it reminds you about when you woke last night. Slowly turning your gaze over your shoulder, you see that dark, male figure standing at the end of the corridor. You gasp loudly and grip onto Jaskier's arm before turning around and starting to walk faster. 

He notices your distress and glances over his shoulder to see what you’re practically running from. But he doesn’t see anything. “What is it?” he questions, looking down at you as you look over your shoulder again. 

This time, the figure is closer to you, making you regret looking back and your pace to quicken. “Just, keep walking,” you whisper, forcing yourself to look forward and not to look back. 

“Is it the spirit?” he whispers back, your head briefly nodding as you tightly grip his arm.

You breathe out a sigh of relief when you enter the hall and see Geralt in a seat beside your father. Only then do you allow yourself to glance back over your shoulder. You no longer see the spirit and you look up at Jaskier who stares down at you waiting to see your reaction to looking over your shoulder. 

“What are you doing here?” you hear your mother harshly question, yours and Jaskier’s heads snapping towards her and finding her staring at Jaskier. 

“I invited him to join us,” Dominic speaks, turning his head towards you to give you a gentle smile. 

Uza chuckles and glances down to her daughter beside her who only glares at you with cold eyes. “He is a bard-”

“And it is (Y/n)’s choice if she wishes for him to stay or leave,” he cuts her off, your eyes flickering between them as they slowly turn to look at you. 

You glance up to Jaskier with wide eyes and he knows why you’re shocked. You’ve never been given the opportunity to make a choice. It has always been what your mother wants. Or what Charlotte wants. But now, if you want Jaskier to say and join you for breakfast as your friend, as your guest, you can say so. 

Looking back to your father, you nod your head and fold your hands in front of you. “I want him to stay,” you whisper, not yet sure of your voice or your authority. 

But he gives you a reassuring nod and holds his hand out as a gesture for you and Jaskier to take a seat at the table. You look over to Geralt, who has his gaze fixed on you. But his head lifts slightly as your gazes lock and he gives you a small smile. 

“Now then,” Dominic begins, your head turning to him as Jaskier begins to help himself to the food in front of him. But you don’t have the stomach to eat. Not after the incident with your stalking spirit in the corridor. “We all know that we only eat together when I have something to say. And after last night, a lot of things are going to change. One of them being that I have requested a Mage from the Chapter,” he states, making Uza scoff and roll her eyes as Charlotte falls back into her seat and folds her arms over her chest. She knows this is all because of you. “She will be arriving within the day to make sure that this spirit that is haunting (Y/n) doesn’t harm her as it did last night.”

You don’t know if your mother and your sister know of the second attack. You’re not sure if you even want them to know. But you do know that they won’t care about that. “In the meantime, Geralt has agreed to be your bodyguard against it,” your father states, look down at you before you can look at Geralt. 

“What? She gets a bodyguard against something that isn’t even there?” Charlotte sneers, pushing herself forward to glare coldly at you again. 

“Trust me, princess. It is very much there,” Geralt defends you when he sees your head dropping between your shoulders. You look up at him through your lashes and give him a thankful smile. “She is just the only one that can see it and that it can harm because of her curse.”

Charlotte hums and rests her elbows on the table as he weaves her fingers together. “Right. The curse the firstborn child was supposed to get.”

“Are you so self-centered that you even want a curse that will kill you?” you ask, breaking when you hear a slight tone of jealousy in her voice. But you don’t turn your gaze to her. Not yet. 

“I am the firstborn daughter-”

“You are not of my blood,” Dominic sneers at her, making her retaliate and the wicked smirk on her face to fall. “Don’t you get that? You are not my daughter.”

Charlotte turns to look at her mother, notices the look of pure guilt on her face before realizing what that means. She falls back in her seat, and remains silent. 

Dominic clears his throat before turning back to look at you. “We should start making a list of areas for the Mage so that we can get right to creating protective spots when they arrive,” he mentions, earning an agreeing hum from Geralt. 

“Well, I spend most of my time painting in my chambers-”

“Not anymore,” Dominic stops you. 

You look up to him again, your mother’s head turning too to wait and see what he has to say. “From now on, you will be having lessons. The same as those Charlotte has had.” At that, your sister turns her head to look at him. 

Jaskier has frozen in anticipation, his eyes flickering between the members of the royal family before turning to face Geralt. But the Witcher has just as a confused look on his face as you do. 

“For what reasons?” you ask, moving your head to get your father to look at you, your hands gripping the skirts of your dress nervously when you feel a dreadful stare on the back of your neck. 

“So that you may learn how to rule this kingdom as queen.”

“What?” You, your mother, and Charlotte question at the same time, all three in a different meaning, different levels of shock, and different tones. 

“She cannot be queen!”

“She is only a child!”

“What makes you think that people will want someone who sees spirits as their queen?”

“She is unfit to rule.”

“Silence!” your father snaps at your mother and sister with a slam of his fist on the table, making your jump and your head to fall to your hands. “I have made my decision,” he states his word and his choice final. 

Charlotte shakes her head and stands to her feet. “It’s not fair. I have done everything you asked of me to be a queen, learned everything you wanted me to and now you are giving her the crown?” she questions, pointing to you as she glares at Dominic. 

“Because you are not my heir,” your father snaps, pushing himself out of his seat and turning to face her. “You never were. And you never will be.”

You feel someone moving behind you and you can’t help your head moving with it, your gaze landing on Charlotte and a gasp leaving your lips when you see the man you saw in the corner of this hall last night now standing behind her. Geralt notices your stiffness and instinctively reaches for the sword at his side as Charlotte looks down at you. “What?” she coldly asks when she sees you staring at her. 

You shake your head and lose your voice when the spirit looks at you and gives you an evil grin before bringing its hand around your sister’s throat. His fingers turn into claws and he slices the skin of her neck. Your body goes cold as you watch the blood pour out of her neck. “What are you staring at?” she questions as if nothing is wrong with her. 

Geralt touches your hand, making you jump and look back at him. “Where is it?” he questions, knowing by the look of fear in your eyes that it’s close by. 

As you turn back to look at Charlotte and whisper to him where the spirit is, you get pushed away from the table, still in your chair and a shrill scream leaves your lips as you see the spirit in front of you. “Please, leave me alone,” you beg, his face coming close to yours as he snarls deeply. 

He places his hands over yours, keeping you trapped in the chair and glances over his shoulder when Geralt stands from his seat. As Geralt steps forward, the spirit moves your chair across the room, farther away from Geralt and making you scream again as you push yourself against the back of the chair to get a bit away from him. “Please,” you cry and turn your face to the side when it reaches up to caress your cheek. “What do you want?” you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest and his finger trails down your neck. 

“You.”

When you turn your head to look at the spirit, you don’t see him anymore. Your frantic searching for it tells Geralt that it’s gone, but the tears rolling down your cheeks tell you that its answer to your question wasn’t good. 

You look over to Charlotte and you find that she hasn’t been harmed. There is no cut on her throat and no blood staining her front. But you can never get the image out of your head now. 

As you burst into tears and drop your face in your hands, Geralt rushes forward and picks you up from your seat, cradling you in his arms as he turns to walk out the room, leaving your mother and Charlotte with hanging mouths and wide eyes as your father drops his head in heartache.

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[silverdragon-imagines-blog]

Counter Clockwise - Chapter 3 - Dawn of the Second Day

[Here’s the next chapter of “Counter Clockwise” the second fic in my “Threatening Darkness” series. Again, I’d like to remind you to check the tags and warnings before you read this, just in case. And let me know if I need to change the tags as well. I hope you enjoy ^u^]

Warning(s): description of injuries, slight body horror, lots of Dark Link being manipulative and creepy.

Read it on AO3

The next morning, Time jolted awake, eyes snapping open to see the floor at eye level, having fallen onto his side during the night. Sitting up proved to be tedious as his back protested each movement, quiet cracking of joints sounding much louder in the near-silent room. He turned to look behind him, at the bed he had given up for the still unconscious Warriors. He had refused to take one of the others' beds, having had insisted that he wanted to be there when Warriors woke up. He couldn’t help the disappointment and worry that sprung up when he saw that the Captain hadn't awoken yet.

Time could see that the Captain had put up a fight; bruises and cuts littered his hands and face, not to mention the broken chainmail he had worn when they found him. It was a miracle that he hadn’t been more injured, though Time couldn’t figure out why Dark had gone easy on him. It put him on edge, seeing how easily the Captain had been rendered unconscious and beaten. He stood, slowly as he took in the others in the room, his hands clenching as his mind spiraled into thoughts of the other missing heroes, one worst-case scenario after another.

They were running out of time...

He looked over to where Four had lain, the smaller now sitting up in bed with his knees clutched to his chest. He hadn't said anything, had barely responded to Twilight when he had asked what was wrong. It was worrying.

Time turned back to Warriors and carefully took his hand, holding it as though the unconscious hero would shatter if he wasn’t careful.

'He's fine,' he told himself, repeating it like a mantra, but it had never been so difficult to believe his own words until now.

He gently squeezed Warriors’ hand, knowing he would not get any response despite the small hope for the opposite. He let go, turning back to face the other three. Wild and Twilight looked at him expectantly.

"What's the plan?" Wild asked. Time opened and closed his mouth, finding himself at a loss.

"We need to find the others," Twilight spoke, his gaze moving between the Captain and Four, "but I don't think we should leave them alone."

"You can stop worrying about me." Four glared at Twilight from over his knees. "I can watch over the Captain. You have more important things to do."

Time knew he was right, but he felt a pit in his stomach at the thought of leaving them without anyone else to check on them. He wanted to argue, but he knew that he would need back up if he were to look for the others, especially if Dark Link was truly behind this.

"Okay," he conceded, the other's glare softening slightly, "I trust you, but please, if anything happens, promise me that you won’t do something that puts either of you in danger."

With Four’s agreement, Time left with Wild and Twilight trailing behind him. He passed the reception desk again without looking at the woman who stood behind it. She already knew that they were going to be staying for a few days if the fact that she hadn’t called them over to her yet was any indication.

They left through the East Gate again, and with a look to the imposing Stone Tower Temple in the distance, he led the way to Snowhead.

The cold was biting, though Time didn't react. He could hear the unmistakable sound of Twilight shifting to wolf form and Wild's slate activating behind him. He pushed forward, making his way to the mountain. As they passed the cabin where the two blacksmiths lived, he heard a strangled noise of distress.

He turned, expecting a monster attack, only to see Wild, shaking and staring wide-eyed at what looked like a block of ice, small yet almost big enough to conceal what was trapped inside of it. Time knew what was trapped there, it had been an all too familiar sight back then, even though Twilight seemed confused, glancing between his cub and his mentor for an answer neither would provide.

"Th-there's-"

"I know, Cub. I'm sorry that you had to see this.” Time placed a hand on Wild's shoulder, only for him to duck away and hurriedly pull out his slate.

In a flash of blue light, Wild held a burning orange blade in his hands, and with a soft puff of snow, he dropped the weapon close to the ice. Time could see it start to melt, steam lazily drifting off it. Wild, still shaken by the sight, returned to where Time stood patiently with Twilight. With a nod from the younger, they continued up the trail, and Time noticed the way that Wild pulled his hood further over his face as they walked.

When they made it to the gap that separated the rest of the path, Time reached for his bag again. He knew that he'd most likely need to don the Goron mask at some point, but before he could pull it out, he saw Twilight take a running leap at the cliff.

"Wait-" he heard himself begin to yell, a hand reaching out just a bit too late to stop his descendant.

His fear was short-lived, however, as the wolf managed to hang from the other side of the gap, claws digging into the snow and earth to pull himself onto solid ground. He shook himself off, then turned back around to face the other two, a smug look on his face that somehow was apparent even through his wolf-form.

"I swear everyone in this group is going to give me grey hair one of these days," he mumbled, fully taking the Goron mask out of his bag.

He could see out of the corner of his eye how Wild was looking through his slate, and the gleam in his eyes was telling.

"Whatever you're about to do is a bad idea," he said, but it was too late.

Wild had another flaming blade in his hands and turned away from him to set the nearby plant life on fire. He jumped over to it, unfurling his paraglider and flying into the air on the updraft. Time watched as the other glided over the chasm, landing safely on the other side. He looked smug.

Time put the mask on, feeling the pain of the transformation once again, from Hylian to Goron. His skin hardened to rock, stone-like skin overtaking his back. In truth, it hurt less than the Zora mask had. He soon found himself beginning to roll into a ball and making the leap onto the other side. He looked to both of his companions, lightly smacking them both.

"That's for the heart-attacks you both gave me," he rumbled, the deep voice of Darmani taking over his own.

Time sighed and led the way again up the trail, managing to get rid of the snow-covered boulders that would roll towards them with a single well-timed punch. It was slow going, needing to stop for each one, but soon, they found the entrance into the cavern that led to the Temple.

With a bloodcurdling scream, a White Wolfos appeared, howling at the three intruders. Twilight growled, lunging at the monster, quickly ending it with his claws and teeth.

"Good job, pup," Time said, and Twilight shifted back, rubbing at his chin where the monster’s blood remained.

They passed through a door, into a circular room with a large platform in the center of it. Wild looked over the edge to the bottom, seeing pools of lava. Time grabbed onto the back of the Warm Doublet the other wore, pulling the other back near him.

They stood on the platform, and Time could easily see the switch that he had to stand on to take them up to the room that the Boss had been in. Twilight seemed to notice it too.

"I think I could hit it," he said, and Time raised an eyebrow as his protege pulled out a heavy-looking steel ball attached to a rather long chain from the depths of his bag of items.

Twilight began to swing the ball over his head. It gained speed quickly, and with a small grunt, the ball flew through the air, broke through the metal grate around the switch, and hit it dead on. In a second, the platform rose right to where the staircase to the Boss Chamber was.

"That was so awesome, can I-"

"No. No, you can't." Time interrupted. Wild looked on in disappointment, following behind the other while Twilight laughed behind them.

====

Four sighed from his position by the bed that Warriors was still resting on. He was on the floor, leaning against the bed frame, while his mind continued to spiral. Blue and Red had been trying to get Vio to talk to them again, to get him to explain what had happened back in the Great Bay Temple. Green was the only one who could still focus enough to take control.

It felt strange to have to do this again after so long working as one. Four voices in one body, distinct yet the same. They made up one person, and yet, each attack on their psyche seemed to break them apart more and more each time. It was amazing they could still function. Taking control during each attack was difficult, each time it affected each of them differently, with the most stable one being forced to act as though there weren’t shattered inside. He had drawn the short straw this time.

He was listening closely to the quiet breaths he could hear from Warriors. It was all he could do to keep his mind away from the other three yelling in his mind. The quiet was nice, and it was almost calming.

Almost.

The air grew oppressive, as though he was being watched. He didn’t dare to try and find the source of it, knowing full well who would be lurking in the darkened corners of the room. They seemed to grow with every passing second, extending until the room became void-like and blood-red eyes shone through the darkness.

"You know, that little stunt you pulled back there wasn't very nice."

Green tensed as Dark Link stepped into view, his form shifting to that of Four himself. His grin was sharp as he stepped closer. Green sprung to his feet, sword quickly finding its way to his hand. Dark just laughed.

"Aw, scared of me, little smith?"

"Not a chance. Now, what do you want?” Green spoke through gritted teeth, and Dark's smile only grew.

"So it's one of the pieces. Tell me, how does it feel to not be whole anymore?"

Green could feel Blue's anger welling up, his want to just stab Dark and get it over with. Vio, too, seemed to be listening in now.

"Just leave, you've done enough harm."

"Oh, but I'm not here to hurt you," he spoke, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I'm just here to offer you a deal."

"We. Aren't. Interested."

And yet, as Green spoke, the others seemed fully focused on the conversation. Vio especially seemed interested in what Dark had to say.

"Ah? But I know that's a lie," he smirked, "I can tell that the traitor piece wants to know."

Green only blinked once, and Warriors was gone. He blinked again, and he was no longer Four. He could see Blue fuming next to him, sword drawn and ready, Red behind him, clutching the fire rod tightly while his knuckles turned white. And then there was Vio at his other side, sword drawn, but no intent to use it. He still looked shaken from the events at Great Bay, but he wanted to know what Dark's deal was.

"Now that you're all together, I can get a real answer,” Dark spoke. The four looked around, trying in vain to find him in the darkened void.

"I really don’t like to repeat myself, but that Hero of the Wilds appears to have kept his mouth shut,” Dark's voice boomed, causing Red to flinch and knock into Blue.

Dark appeared in front of Green, looking similar to Wild, yet without the scars that marred the other's body and face.

"I've been around a long time, and I've seen every single one of your adventures. I know all of your secrets and-" Dark smiled wide as he got in Green's face, "-I know what it is that you desire most."

Blue swung his sword at Dark, only for him to disappear into shadows, his laugh beginning to echo through the void. Red began to tremble, getting closer to Blue for comfort. Green looked back to Vio, seeing how hard he was gripping his sword and the determined look in his eyes.

"Vio. Don't," Green spoke, snapping the other out of his thoughts.

"But there's a chance-"

"I know, but we all know it'll go sideways. There's always a catch, it’s not worth it."

"Oh my, so the little leader figured it out?" Dark mocked, and this time showed himself as a darker Four, an all too familiar form that had all of them falter. Green could hear how Vio's breath halted for a second at the sight. This was bad.

"What are your terms?" Vio asked. The other two inhaled sharply, shocked at how quickly he seemed to want to make a deal with Dark. And Dark smiled.

"I'll bring him back," he replied plainly, and held out a hand, "no strings attached... this time anyway."

Green was pushed out of the way. Vio walked towards Dark, sword lying forgotten on the ground. Blue bolted over to him, grabbing Vio around the waist in an attempt to stop him. Red was begging Vio to stop, trying to say that's not worth it. Green couldn't find the words to say.

Dark's smile only grew as Vio fought Blue's hold on him, waiting patiently. But then he stopped, his gaze looking past the four of them. There was a snap, and a flash of light exploded at Dark's feet. He flinched, surprise on his face.

A second snap and the darkness left. Four was standing, approaching the bed he had slept in earlier that morning, and behind him, he could hear loud coughing. He turned quickly, running to where Warriors was now leaning on his arm, turned towards Four.

"Captain?"

"Deku nuts," he rasped, coughing once more, "good for distractions, makes a hell of a light show, too."

"How did you-"

"Dark Link isn't subtle, I'll tell you that. The bastard deserved it."

Four found himself giggling at that, and for once, all the colors inside his head were unified. All was well.

====

The door closed behind Wild, Twilight, and Time as they entered the circular room that made up the final room of Snowhead. Time could already feel the oppressive atmosphere when they entered, putting both him and his companions on edge. They didn't know what to expect, but Time had a feeling that Dark Link would appear. At this point, it was only a matter of time.

Wild had started to walk around the room, searching for something he didn’t specify. Time merely watched as Twilight followed behind the Cub, making sure everything was fine. Time stood off to the side, keeping a grip on the Goron mask just in case.

It was eerily quiet, and every darkened crevice made him peer closer, checking to see if the damning red glow of Dark's eyes were hiding there. Of course, no matter how hard he glared at the empty pockets in the stone, there was nothing in them besides the shadows.

Wild seemed to notice how the room’s darkened pockets made the elder hero watch them closely, and he grabbed his sword as a precaution. His hand froze in place, hovering over the pommel when an all too familiar chuckle rang in his ears.

He flinched, whipping his head around to locate its source, but coming up with nothing. The other two heroes didn't even seem to react, aside from Twilight looking at him with a questioning glance. Wild merely waved him off, shaking slightly.

"Oh, Hero of the Wilds," the voice--his voice--chuckled, "it's nice to see that you still remember me, despite your faulty memory."

Wild grit his teeth, the memories of that damned deal surfacing once again. He clenched at his sword hilt again, not drawing it out just yet.

"I paid a visit to your friends earlier. Seems no one was in the mood for dealmaking," he sighed, and Wild stifled a sound of relief.

"Though I will say, the Chosen Hero and the Hero of the Winds seemed interested in making a deal." He laughed, the sound loud and dangerous in his ears. "I, of course, let them, and I gave them exactly what they wanted. Why don't I show the heroes of Time and Twilight what those two wanted?"

"Don't. You. Dare," he spat, barely registering Twilight's worried call of "Cub?" over Dark's laughter.

"You know you have no power over me, Champion."

There was an audible crack, and the three snapped to attention, the wall in the center of the room splitting open, a pitch-black portal appearing in its place. Slowly, two familiar figures stepped out, and Wild felt his breath halt as he took in the bloodied and bruised forms of his friends.

Wind's tunic was in tatters, spots of blood dotting it where he had cuts, and bruises where he looked as though he had been hit. Sky was in a similar, if not worse, shape. His sailcloth looked as though it was falling apart, and his shirt and chainmail were wrecked, blood staining the fabric and metal where his skin was visible.

The worst part, however, was how their eyes gleamed red.

Dark laughed again, and this time, the others heard it. He stepped out of the portal himself, his appearance identical to Time's own. He stopped between the two wounded heroes, a wide smile on his face as he took in the shock and anger in the other three hero's expressions. He relished in their barely concealed anger as he put an arm around Sky’s shoulders, his other hand resting on Wind’s shoulder, watching as Wild’s sword hand twitched, as though itching to grasp his blade.

"Why so upset? I brought you your missing companions, didn't I?" He smirked . "And I'll let you take them with you, no strings attached...this time anyway."

"What did you do to them?" Twilight growled, trying to hide the horror in his voice. He quickly drew his blade and glared at Dark.

"Oh, Hero of the Twilight, I merely let them make a deal with me," he chuckled, "and now they have exactly what they've always wanted."

Wild edged closer, timidly reaching out to Wind, the only thought a hope that this was temporary, that it could be fixed. The other looked at Wild, no recognition in his gaze, face blank and unchanging as the hero’s steps faltered. Dark’s smile seemed to grow.

"Here, why don't I let you have them." He snapped his fingers once, and all hell broke loose.

Wild barely had time to react, instinct alone had him unsheathe his sword in one quick movement and block Wind's blade from coming down on his head. The loud clash of steel on steel had him flinching, but Wind’s blank stare made his panic rise.

"Wind, please," Wild's voice cracked, but the other still didn't react.

Wind jumped back, landing a few feet away. Wild could see Time almost hiding behind his shield as Sky began his onslaught. Twilight seemed torn on what he should do, and Wild found himself unable to say anything, unable to call out for help. His words were stuck in his throat, his focus locked firmly on Wind as he began to launch into a spin attack, each hit on the shield threatening it to break.

"My my, whatever shall you do, Wolf?" Dark called out, appearing in front of Twilight, now taking on the form of Twilight himself. "Protect your mentor or your cub? Choose wisely, you wouldn't want to lose anyone else, now, would you?"

Twilight paled at that, thoughts running between his mentor becoming the Hero's Shade and shattered mirrors, goodbyes that never happened, and the fear of things repeating once again. The ever-looming threat of failing his cub or watching as his past becomes true with Time’s death. What was the right answer? Was there even a right answer?

Twilight heard a loud curse from Time, and a decision was made. He pushed past Dark, a chuckle echoing in Twilight's ears, and unsheathed his sword, shield slipped onto his arm. He took a swing at Sky, the other jumping back in time to avoid his blade.

"Thanks, Pup," he heard Time sigh, and he nodded.

Sky seemed to stare intently at Twilight for a moment, a flicker of blue appearing for a second before it was overtaken by red once more. The corrupted hero raised his sword, a familiar blue light causing it to shine for a moment before he swung it down.

Twilight's eyes widened for a moment. His awareness came crashing back as Sky shambled forward and he bolted to the side, knocking Time away from the beam of light. He struggled to call out to Wild, managing a strangled cry that just wasn't loud enough. He watched as the beam of light hit Wind and Wild head-on. He felt a scream building in his throat as they were obscured by the light.

Dark was cackling, though he was no longer visible, the cruel sound echoing as it slowly faded away.

There was a beat, and then the light vanished. On the ground were the forms of Wild and Wind, the latter seemingly passed out on top of the former. They seemed to be okay, and Twilight groaned with relief, the feeling replacing the rush of adrenaline. He looked back over to Sky to see him kneeling, clutching his head, with the Master Sword fallen to the ground.

Twilight raised his weapon, keeping them at the ready. But it seemed as though he didn't have to.

"T-Twi?" Sky croaked out. Time inched forward, his gaze soft but wary.

The red glare in his eyes was gone, Time noticed, and as Sky lowered his hands, he caught sight of the burns that marred his palms, the pommel of the sword seared into his flesh. Time glanced around, noticing the silence and lack of Dark Link. He slowly knelt and grabbed a potion from his bag at his hip.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Sky didn't respond, merely staring at his hands with a faraway look in his eyes.

Time sighed, motioning for Twilight to check on the other two. As soon as they were bandaged and ready to be moved, they would head back to the inn. They all needed a break.

But the idea of Dark still being around,  that he was behind all of this and that two of his boys were still missing. It did little to ease his thoughts.

There was only one place they could be.

Time hung his head and sighed again.