#its such a nightmare getting them to use high chairs but SO worth it

[ssimless]

ignore boris the nutcracker. he isn't the cause of lydia's nightmares.

[legendarypalacepaperpony]

Hi 😊

I love love love all the stories and one-shots about Eris, but could not find anything close to something that came to my mind the other day. So I decided to do it myself, *evil crackle*.

I'd love some feedback since it's the first time, I've written anything like this in English 😅

Trigger Warnings: mention of abuse and torture, scars, blood, desperation, mental health issues

Sweet Relief

Blood surrounded Eris. It was on the walls, it coated the floor, it filled his lungs.

The male looked around in panic for a few moments before his eyes caught on the reason for all the unnecessary bloodshed. Beron stood across from him, holding a bloodied dagger in his right hand.

"Thank you for joining us, Eris", Beron snarled, a crazed look in his russet eyes. Eyes, that looked so much like his own, that Eris consciously avoided his own mirror.

"I knew that I raised a pathetic excuse for a male. But to think you are too weak to face the consequences of your own actions." Beron shook his head in disappointment.

"Maybe I should have just strangled you in your crib".

Eris blinked dazedly to fight the fog clouding his mind. He gazed down upon himself, trying to discern the source of all the surrounding blood.

But, save for the ropes that bound him to his chair, the male's skin was pristine. Well, as pristine as it could be, after all the years of torture, his father put him trough in the name of "training".

The Lording frowned, looking up and continuing his search. Now, it finally dawned on him. The blood did not belong to him, if belonged to his brothers.

Two of them, Shay and Connor, were tied up across from him, barely even recognizable. Desperation filled Eris.

He didn't hold much love for his other siblings, but Shay and Connor were the ones he could actually confide in. The ones that he trusted, the ones that trusted him.

And now? What had that trust got them? Save for a cruel, useless death?

The male started to shake. His heart was beating frantically in his chest. "Wha- What is going on? Why are you doing this?" he croaked, desperately trying to discern if his brothers were still alive, by some miracle he didn't deserve.

Beron laughed menacingly. "You, out of all people, should know why I am doing this," he hissed. "They were traitors. And Traitors. Are. Punished."

His father turned around, motioning for the guards, who were now dragging another body into the dungeon's torture chamber. The person was flung to the ground in front of the High Lord.

Beron cracked his neck before bending down to the new prisoner. "You don't have anything to say, Eris? Fine, we'll just need to up the pressure then."

Eris took a deep breath to calm himself down. He had played his father's games for so long, he could hold on just a bit longer.

But besides the smell of his brothers' blood, he could discern another scent. A scent, that he knew better than he knew himself. A scent, that had calmed his raging mind after a lot of nightmares. A scent, that turned so deliciously heavy with arousal.

Eris started to throw himself against his bindings in desperation, ripping the skin at his wrists open in the process.

"NO!", he shouted, trying desperately to get to you. "I'll tell you everything. Everything. Just please, please let her go", Eris pleaded, pain in his eyes as hi gazed upon you.

"You'll tell me everything?", Beron asked, amusement colouring his voice. "Fine. Who is the leader of this pesky little revolution then?" he hissed whilst clutching your hair tightly in his fist, ripping your head upwards and placing the blade at your neck.

"I....", Eris breathed, suddenly unsure. He did not know anything about a revolution, let alone its leaders.

"I don't know."

"You do not know, hmm?", his father hummed. "Well, looks like your mate's life is not worth as much to you as I thought."

Eris looked at you with pain and desperation. Your own eyes however told a different story.

They held so much love, so much trust, that Eris started to weep.

"It's OK," you whispered, voice hoarse from disuse. "I love you, I will always love you".

"I swear, I do not know anything. Just let her go, I beg of you." Eris pleaded. But to no avail.

Eris summoned fire in his hands in an attempt to free himself from his restraints, just as Beron lifted his dagger, ready to deliver a killing blow.

"NOOOOO!" Eris screamed whilst the dagger sank into your heart.

And Eris felt it unravel. He felt the bond unravel. The bond that he did not deserve, the one he had never deserved.

And just as the male felt the final strands of this glowing connection in his chest break, he heard your voice calling out to him.

"Eris, my love. Stop. Please. You're hurting me".

And the male sat up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The first thing Eris noticed when he woke up was the scent of burning skin.

His eyes ripped open immediately, just to find himself clutching your arm in his hand.

The very same hand that was covered in fresh burns from his own, flaming hands.

The male let go of you immediately, scrambling back on the bed, tears starting to streak over his cheeks.

"I hurt you", he croaked, looking down at his hands with disgust. "I burnt you. I'm just like him."

"Hey," you breathed softly, slowly scooting closer to your mate. "It's OK. You didn't do it on purpose".

Eris looked up at you sharply. "No, this is not OK. I lost control, I caused you pain. You're my mate and I caused you pain".

He started breathing faster and faster, desperately trying to calm himself down. To keep himself from accidentally burning you again.

His efforts caused his skin to heat up to levels, where it would be unsafe for any other creature to touch him.

Suddenly, he felt one of your hands on his cheek, coated in a thin layer of ice. Eris flinched and looked up at the hand incredulously.

"What are you doing?", he breathed. His eyes scoured your face for any indication of your intentions.

"Isn't it obvious, my love?" you asked softly, gently taking his face between your hands.

"I'm trying to calm you down".

Eris swallowed harshly. "B-B-But what a-about the fire? I could hurt you!"

"You would never hurt me, darling" you whispered, leaning close to his ear before pressing your body close against his,curling your arms around him, cooling him off.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Eris shook his head, pulling you close and pressing his face into your neck, where your sleepy scent was most intense.

He just let you hold him for what felt like an eternity, his heart slowly calming down.

You gently entangled yourself from your mate's arms, causing him to tense up and gaze at you in alarm.

"How about a warm bath, hmm? Just to relax?" you offered, making sure to never stop touching him.

"You're gonna join me, right?" Eris asked carefully whilst looking at you with big eyes.

A gentle smile gazed your face. "Of course, my love," you breathed, pressing a gentle kiss against your mate's forehead.

You slowly detangled yourself from the sheets before walking into the bathing chamber and starting a warm bath. You were humming to yourself whilst adding lavender scented soap into the water.

Suddenly, a pair of strong, scarred arms wrapped around your waist and a head of thick auburn hair drooped onto your shoulder. You leaned into your mate with a sigh, snuggling close into his warm chest.

"Come now, love. The bath is ready." you whispered softly before turning around to look at your mate. Eris smiled at you gently before lifting your arm to inspect the burn he left there. Sadness filled his gaze before his eyes flickered to you.

"I'm sorry."

"I know", you breathed, sending a flood of unconditional love down the bond.

Eris eyes widened, before he gently ran his thumb over the burn, healing it in an instant.

You disrobed each other, your movements gentle but without any sexual intent.

Eris stepped into the bathtub before holding his hand out for you, making sure you didn't fall whilst stepping into the slippery tub.

"C'mere" you said to your mate, leaning back against the side of the tub and motioning for him to sit down with his back to you.

Eris did just as you requested.

His tight back muscles started to relax, and his shoulders started to drop as you started to gently lather up his hair, caressing his scalp.

You washed your mates' hair in silence, simply letting him work out his nightmare on his own.

The two of you stayed in the bathtub until the water was cold, and you started to nod off.

Only then, your mate got out of the tub, gently lifted you out of it and carried you to bed.

Whilst walking, your mate gently dried you off with his magic before dropping you into the fresh, clean sheets. The magic of the forest house must have swapped them out already.

Your mate laid down beside you, gently pulling you against his chest, burying his face into your hair, whilst you wrapped yourself around him like a koala.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Love you too", you mumbled back, already half asleep.

Eris smiled into your hair, pulling you indefinitely closer to his warm chest, delighting in the love that flowed into him from the mating bond, before falling asleep.

Safe.

In the arms of his mate.

[rafent]

✦ 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 ✧

A knock, followed by the roll of wheels upon a janitor cart. “Cleaning!”

Both the knock and the call went entirely unheard by the room's single resident, echoing only in the abyss as the blanketed form continued to breathe evenly. A peaceful rise and fall of chest denoted they were still asleep, chin-length locks fanned out on the pillow, and long lashes fluttering with the invisible running motions of a dream or a nightmare. From certain angles of observation they might have been an angel. The staff tried again.

"I'm coming in!"

They - or rather, he - awoke. A naked sternum rose above the swell of a satin blanket, hair mussed in a flyaway nest of white around the face. Dandelion-headed, Rafal looked at the uniformed figure standing in his doorway dazedly, the perpetual furrow in his brow yet to make its return. 

“Apologies, er, Professor. Your door was unlocked.”

Professor? Silence. Confusion.

Then recognition—

. . .then killing intent.

His eyes hardened. Not an angel, but a devil.

“Get. Out.”

A dangerous instant that even a stroke of lightning could be hard pressed to outspeed, the high-pitched sonar of an activated dragonstone shattered eardrums. The dragon himself to shatter everything else. Windows against the walls and cracks around a door brimmed with sharp magenta light - then exploded outwards with the seismic wallop of a clawed tail that sent the servant flying.

And the rest was history.

…

“Professor Rafal, you can’t just attack everyone who comes into your room unannounced. A simple no would suffice. You’re lucky no lasting injuries were accrued.”

“Do not step foot into places you do not belong.” Rafal sniffed and examined a frayed piece of thread on his shoulder, markedly unapologetic. His glance upward was accusatory. Scathing. “The last time your minions came they deigned to throw out a handful of my treasures.”

“It was a misunderstanding. We already apologized for that.”

“Hmph.”

What were said treasures? Well, since Rafal’s arrival one could say he’d accumulated quite the miscellany:

The dirtied trowel utilized over the course of a slow and steady recovery

A used fork furtively swiped from a plate during the Ethereal Ball

Long strand of bi-colored hair procured from the ground during a snowy patrol

One half of a shattered wine bottle still dangerously sharp but regarded as if it were softer than anything

A missing quill used by one who nested in the same office as Rafal and fulfilled his paperwork, deemed all but her second home as of late

Unassuming debris in scant quantity, plucked from Pasithee's realm and - even more specifically - the companionable struggles of cleanup waged alongside three others

Unwashed teacup retained from a picnic with two people which, though contentious, had nevertheless secretly been an instance worth recalling

These were the 'treasures' in question obtained over the course of a year. Mistaken easily for clutter at that, and utterly worthless, the staff had naturally assumed to throw them away. Though to Rafal the judgment and the decision to do so had not been natural - it had been an insult of the highest order. These were things he valued; memoirs that meant something to him, in one stead or another. They were his. And now they were gone.

He would have to start all over again.

“In any case. Minions? We’re not villains, sir. We’re only here to clea—”

The dragon rose stiffly from his chair, pushing out of the office without tolerance for further argument. Started with Rafal and ended with him too. “I've said all I have to say. I will not be saying it again. Invade my territory a third time and I shall put all trespassers to death as they ask for.”

Faces looked at each other in the wake of his menacing departure. The aftermath of an uncertain silence which dissolved only on one mutual understanding.

“. . .Take him off the list then?”

[kevindaydayiseveryday]

Being immortal does not mean ‘immunity.’ Since I was first locked in here, my symptoms of yellow fever have only gotten words, and according to the ghost of my grandmother, I will eventually die, it’s just going to be a lot longer. Likely, the starvation will take me out first.

My throat always itches these day, burning from the lack of water and swollen from my attempt to eat rotting flesh. It took what I can only assume to be years before I managed to successfully tear the stone away from grandfather’s casket. He hasn’t stopped chiding me since. I cut my hair using a knife i found in his pocket. It’s already dull. When did I find it?

I don’t think I’ll need to cut my hair soon. It’s been falling out in large clumps, which makes for a nice pillow at night. I can’t tell when it’s night or day anymore. Was there ever a time that I could? My stomach broils from heat, bugs and emptiness. My eyes burn worse each day from shitting and pissing nearby. My night dress is almost completely gone, it wasn’t made for stone, dirt and possible madness. I’m still debating that with my doctor, Dr. Spider. My last doctor, Dr. Worm, died in a case of tragic misstep. Dr. Spider will live longer, I hope.

When the door opens to the mausoleum, I must say I wasn’t expecting it. A young person stands in front of me— what separates people again? Age, perhaps. Unlike me, their back is straight, the bones perfectly unified together. I smile, and unto them, “Welcome into my home. Here, you, too, can live forever! I think it’s the air.” They stare blankly at me. “Ah! Gender. That’s what you are! A boy! Or are you a girl? I was a girl once. Yes, just like grandmother here. Say hello, grandma!” I gesture over to the woman, who sits in her special rocking chair, made just for her, sewing me a new dress. It was supposed to be done ages ago, but fashion is always worth the wait.

The person swallows, not moving away from the door to drink the tea I hold out to them. Their mouth moves repeatedly in what I think must be horror, and then they scream and stutter back. “You’ve frightened grandma! Don’t be making such noises. Grandma, don’t worry. I think he just woke from a nightmare.”

The creature’s mouth widens in a smile, revealing rotten gums without any teeth. It’s eyes are yellow and the skin around them peels away. It’s covered in blood, head to toe and I can feel my heart pounding, but I can’t run, my legs refuse shake at the thought, so I just keep moving slowly back, hands swinging behind me to try and balance my movement. The sounds the beast make are high pitched, a banshee made of shadows, broken bones and peeling skin. It holds water in what must’ve been hands at one point, and even the water is disgusting to look at. Brown with hints of yellow, likely pee or mold. It scratches at its neck, long fingernails tearing at the swollen, red lumps and blistering welts.

I lose my balance and throw up, vomit spewing all over the floor. The monster moves towards me, it’s voice almost cooing in low wails that almost sound like words.

I wish it had stayed in the mausoleum, so that I never would’ve had to have seen the worms, only noticeable in the moonlight. Hundreds of them dig in its skin, white and pink, long and squish.

It almost touches me, almost covers me in the same junk, but even crawling backwards I can move faster. I scream again, and this time, Judy hears me. She’s calling for me but I don’t have the words in my throat, just more screaming and shrieking.

Judy’s gun goes off, and for a moment, the creature is down, but it gets back up and continues to slowly creep towards me. I finally find my feet and start running, looping around the thing to get over to the safety of Judy— thank god for her gun, it’s the only time I’ll ever be grateful for the stupid thing— and hide behind her.

“Is that a fucking zombie? What the hell Jasper!”

“I don’t fucking know! It came out of the fucking family mausoleum over there. So yeah, probably a zombie. Holy shit we just discovered zombies what the actual fuck. We’re gonna die. We’re gonna die! We’re actually going to die right now.” Judy slaps my face, though it’s at an awkward angle so it’s not ver effective, while the other hand holds and points the pistol. Judy shoots again, and again the monster stumbles backwards, hitting the ground. It moans and sputters in various high and low pitches.

It’s hand digs into its side and digs out one of the bullets, as well as a ton of viscera coating the nails. It’s eyes lock onto mine and it clutches the bullet in its hand and begins to wails. I notice Judy’s hands shake. The zombie crosses its legs and looks up towards the sky and wails again. “Blow it’s brains out.” Judy doesn’t reply. “Come one already! Fucking shoot it! It’s already dead and you could save humanity from what I’ve released. Judy! Please!”

Judy lowers her gun and hands me the gun, slowly shaking her head. “I can’t. I don’t—I don’t know… it’s human, jasper. Or at least it was… you shoot it.”

“I’ve never shot a damn thing in my life, there’s no chance I’m hitting that things head from over here.”

“What do we do then?”

I breathe in slowly and pull out my phone. “Call the cops. Get the military involved.”

“We’ll get arrested for trespassing.”

“We have two options: get arrested, or start the zombie apocalypse. I’m choosing lying about why we’re here!” I call the cops.

The second time something knocks me back, I stay on the ground. My eyes well with tears and I begin to sob. All I wanted was another friend. Someone else to talk to! I lock eyes on the person— two persons?— and scream at them, begging to them, “Why? What did I do? I didn’t hurt you! I wasn’t going to—“ my voice hitches when I notice the stars. In all the years I spent with grandma and grandpa and the rest of my family, I had never seen the stars. I can feel the wounds on and in my throat reopening as I scream, and the blood tries to choke me. I keep screaming, drop the bullet and clutch at the grass. Dirt, not blocked by stone slips through my hand and I even pull away a flower. I don’t remember when I last saw a flower. Likely, it’s been since I was first locked up.

I feel the bones in my hands shatter as I dig deeper into the ground, but moving seems impossible under the sky and in fresh air. It’s cool out. There’s a breeze and dew on the grass. I never want to go inside again. I lay back and count the constellations.

The FBI comes, as well as military men. Judy and I are taken to a safe place for interrogation and decontamination. No charges are pressed for trespassing, but we do spend days in some base. We’re shown the person occasionally, asked about the behavior she showed before versus the behavior she shows now.

A human woman. Her clothes are likely to be from the 1760’s or so. Hundreds of years old. Despite two gun shots, extreme dysentery, yellow fever, dehydration, starvation, rotting and infected wounds/ skin, as well as a lot more they haven’t told us about— her somehow still beats, and her brain still scans to show she’s living. It’s functioning correctly in every way, though they can see on the scans she’s been through a lot of emotional and physical trauma in her life. You could also just tell that by looking at her.

The current assumption is she was kidnapped and locked in the mausoleum weeks ago, though it’s hard to get DNA properly off of her, and it fails to explain the yellow fever and clothing. Not to mention the fact that her physical trauma seems to be healing expeditiously faster with treatment than it should. Technically, she shouldn’t even be able to stand, but her body refuses to collapse, rest even for a moment. For obvious reasons, she gets upset inside or trapped in places, so the makeshift infirmary they’ve set her up in has a glass ceiling.

I know it’s not much of an ending, and maybe one day I’ll continue, but for now— enjoy!

when you were 16 years old, in the late 18th century, you contracted a severe case of yellow fever. When you got the fever, your family sealed you in their family mausoleum for centuries. Unfortunately, this was the moment you found out you were immortal…

[greenygreenland]

Dream A Little Dream of Me: Norman x Reader (Part Three)

-part three is here! I had to slice it in two because apparently there's a certain word block limit (at least on mobile). So get ready for part four!

Summary: You can’t remember anything.

Month four, 08:00

The last thing you recalled was the face of a boy with light hair. His eyes were bright, swirling with love and affection you looked for everyday. Whenever you woke up, you couldn’t remember his name, or his sweet voice that called out to you in your dreams.

All you had was the light of day and the rising sun. It made you sad to look upon it alone in your room. Someone else were supposed to be by your side, right next to you. But who?

And then there was the absence of a motherly figure--a woman you only recalled through song. How was it you remembered that melancholy tune but not a name or face? You wished you knew, and you prayed everyday to whoever was up there to give you another chance. Another go at life--with the people you never knew the names of.

“Good morning, Letha.”

You met the old man’s gaze with a simple nod. His crinkly voice was one of the things you actually didn’t mind, even if it was hard to hear at times. 

The old man, Alex, was kind, but the most you conversed about were your lost memories, your insane knacks for weapons, chess, and lastly, intelligence.

Time wasn’t friendly, and a month passed uneventfully. It turned into two, which turned into three and so on. Every now and then, you wondered if you’d stay like that: a blank slate. Alex said there was this one philosopher who called it a ‘tabula rasa’. For some reason, that fact reminded you of someone long ago.

Dark hair, the smell of old books, dust hidden between bookshelves...

You began to make out the image of a boy. He was no older than you, with cool eyes, a warm, yet small smile. Who was he? His name was at the tip of your tongue, yet it wouldn’t come out.

Ren? Reylo? Tired Cyclops? No, that wasn’t it. Obviously.

It hurt to think too much about it, and before you could grasp onto it, the memory faded, along with the name.

“Don’t think too hard,” Alex warmly said. “I’m sure it’ll come with time.”

He hoped to help you recover your lost memories, but in the meantime, he’d do his best to support you, just as he’d done with his long, dead daughter. For that reason, he felt it was time to bring you to the world outside. In this town you both resided in, everyone died in a war.

Alex was the only survivor.

For that reason, he was the only person you ever got to know these past seven months. There was no one your age around here, and it wasn’t like you went far anyway. Every now and then, Alex brought you a few towns over to experience a nice train ride to his favourite shops. Then he’d buy you something and take pictures.

But now? He felt it was time to take it a step further. He wasn’t sure if you’d like the idea, but it was worth a try.

SEVEN MONTHS LATER, 06:28

“Come again?” you inquired. Alex took a sip of his coffee and stood from the chair. The wooden floorboards of the cabin creaked under his weight. He waddled over to the window, drawing open the plaid curtains. Warm rays of sunlight fluttered upon your face and Alex smiled warmly like he always did.

“It’s time you get out more,” he said, “and experience the world outside this old town. I want you to look across the horizon because there’s more than the cabin.” You knitted your brows together. You didn’t like how cryptic he was being. It reminded you of someone you once knew, someone who you held close to your heart.

“Gramps, what are you trying to say?”

Alex heaved in a long breath, as if he were afraid of saying it himself. “I want you to go to school. College, if you want the specifics.” Your eyes doubled in size and you hoped, prayed, that he would take it back and say it was a joke. College? You didn’t need a degree! And besides, it was expensive. You couldn’t afford something like that. But alas, Alex wasn’t one to joke about serious things like that. He was an old man, so he always meant what he said.

This time was no different.

“You mean it,” you practically whispered. “That you want me to go to college.” Alex nodded, absentmindedly running a hand through his thick, white beard. There was a long pause and you took the time to sip your tea. Would school benefit you in some way? Was it worth the time? The work?

It didn’t make sense. You were smart. Alex said it himself: “I haven’t met anyone as smart as you”. So why did he want to send you to school? It had to be more than just to “meet people” because you did that all the time on the train every few days.

“What’s so good about college, Gramps? We can’t afford to pay for something so expensive. I don’t want to see you in debt just because of me.”

Through your calm façade, Alex noticed the spark of uncertainty in your eyes. Throughout the long days he got to know you, he realised one thing: you were never keen on showing your emotions.

“I want to give you an opportunity to find yourself,” he finally replied. “If the people you knew are around your age, then going to school might bring something back. You know, jog your memories. Besides that, I want you to have a life more than that I can offer. There’s nothing in this small town.”

“I don’t know about that. I have you here. You’re all I know, Gramps.”

Alex knitted his bushy brows together. “I know, but I can’t always be the only one you know. Don’t you want to see the world?”

It wasn’t that going to college was excruciatingly disappointing, only that it was a means of giving out false hope. How could you cling onto something so child-like and unreliable? 

Hope could only get people so far. You were no different.

That night, you lay in bed, wide awake. A nagging thought kept pulling at the back of your mind, repeating itself over, and over, and over again until you couldn’t stand the phrase. But as soon as you repeated it with your own lips, it vanished as if it never existed.

You lay in bed for a little longer, fighting the lull of sleep. It pulled on your eyes, and your head nodded as you forced down a yawn. Sleep was for the weak. If you stayed awake a little longer, maybe you might remember something, right?

-----

The grass tickled your bare feet. If it were any normal day, you would have liked to lay down in its warm embrace with Emma, Ray and Norman. You could watch the clouds together, and wonder about life outside these concrete walls.

But that was stupid to think about, wasn’t it? The liberty to relax and do absolutely nothing had been striped from your very being, like the air that you gasped and chocked on. You held your shoes tightly to your chest and frantically glanced past your shoulder. Good. All clear, just how you liked it.

Norman and Emma lay a couple hundred meters behind. They were your eyes, the two little owls that perched high above with all-seeing eyes. With a grunt, you hopped over a thick tree root and tossed aside your shoes. They landed somewhere in the brush, right where the trees parted.

You came to a stop and glared at the concrete wall towering over you. If you completed your mission and everything remained as straight-forward as you wanted it to be, then you’d escape with everyone. Just like Emma wanted. Just like you tried so hard to believe.

But what if something happened? What if Don and Gilda were caught? Or worse, what if Mama suspected that Ray betrayed her? Surely she wouldn’t go as far as to eliminate him on the spot...

...right?

You clenched a fist so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Stop. Stop it, you told yourself. You had to have faith in your family. They were just as capable as you, maybe even more, so they’d have no issues. You had to focus on your job so they could do theirs.

“My, so this is where you’ve run to?”

You sucked in a sharp breath.

No, that couldn’t be. You made sure she wouldn’t know where you were. You told all the precautions, too. Were Emma and Norman okay? What about Ray? And Don and Gilda?

“I’m surprised you managed to make this far.” Mama stiffly said. “You never were as strong as Emma, or fast either.”

It was like the sun stopped shining. Your blood ran cold. The warm rays turned to ice.

“It’s not too late to turn back (Y/n).” Her voice was silky smooth, tempting almost, as if she were coaxing a frightened sheep to the slaughter. “You’ve improved, my dear, but is it enough? Once your plan crumbles, what will you do then? It wouldn’t be a bad idea to become a mama. It’s the reliable path. You will survive and you will be happy.”

For a moment, you wondered if she actually cared about you. Maybe her love was all fake from the beginning and she didn’t care about you. Or your family. Or anything but survival in this cruel world.

You never loved us.

That was what you wanted to say, yet the words stuck in your throat like glue. If she didn’t love you, then why did she hold you so tightly when you had a nightmare? If she didn’t love you, then why did her eyes shine with pride when you got perfect scores?

“Come, my dear,” Mama coaxed. “Let’s go home.”

The sudden urge to laugh bubbled in your throat like lava.

Home? This was a prison in disguise.

It’s not too late to turn back? A lie.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to become a mama? As if.

You couldn’t afford to betray your family. Not after all you’ve done, and not after all the effort. They relied on you. You weren’t going to let them down.

You turned on your heel to face Mama. She smiled at you, but it wasn’t a nice smile. It made your stomach twist and turn, reminded you just how much of a danger she could be. Your gaze focused past her shoulder, where a familiar head of orange stood.

Emma peeked out from behind the trees and held up the bag of rope. Norman stood from a cluster of bushes and motioned the the wall. They were going to climb it while you distracted Mama. Perfect.

A bright grin broke out onto your lips. “I’m sorry Mama.” you began.

She stood like a statue with wide eyes. “Are you now?” she inquired. You were finally conceding in this fiery war of wits. After all that fuss and now would she have you back by her side? She opened her arms to welcome you. It was all she could do with her prized little girl. Finally you were being smart. Finally you were choosing the reliable path. You were going to follow in her footsteps. Survive. And outlive everyone in this house like she had.

But then something happened. Emma burst from the bushes, followed by Norman who helped throw the rope up a nearby branch. That triggered you into action, and you lunged at Mama with all the strength you could muster.

“I will never--!”

You wrestled for her watch.

“--ever--!”

Mama tugged on your little arms.

“--leave my family behind!”

You yanked the stupid watch out of her hands, but just as you stood, Mama grasped onto your leg and tugged. Hard. She gave it a squeeze, and a sickening crack echoed in your ears. You screamed. Your ears rung and you heaved in a strangled breath.

“You should have taken the reliable path.” Mama’s calm voice made you want to vomit. “None of us would be here if you had listened to your mama.”

-----

Your eyes shot open and you jolted awake. The faces, the voices, the senses--they flashed before you in a whirl of colours and sounds. Why couldn’t you recall who they were? Or what their names were? You knew every single one of them by heart, yet your mind lay completely blank. Again.

The urge to punch your mattress overwhelmed your senses.

“Good morning,” came Alex’s crinkly voice. That snapped you out of your frustrated stupor. He stood in the doorway, a warm smile on his lips and a spatula in hand. “Pancakes are almost done. Today we’ll get you settled in your dorm.”

Oh. Right. Gramps was sending you to a boarding school. The thought of leaving your beloved bed left you queasy and sluggish. Why should you go somewhere so far away from this cozy, little cottage? It was only recently that you settled here too. Maybe Gramps was taking it too fast.

With a heavy heart, you lugged yourself out of bed and threw on a pair of warm clothes. The unforgiving climate of this land was not one you would challenge. Ever.

The moment you emerged from your room was the moment you understood Gramps’s insistence. He meant well, you knew, but in a way you didn’t appreciate. Going out gave you a higher chance of meeting whomever you knew. It was completely logical.

“Are you worried?” Gramps began, placing a stack of pancakes on your plate. “I’ve already informed your school teachers of your amnesia, so they’ll understand. As for your dormitory, everything has been set. And don’t forget your breakfast, lunch, and dinner plans, as well as your--”

“You seem more anxious than me, Gramps.” you said with a subtle smile. He stared at you, wide-eyed until he mirrored you with a chuckle. “I suppose you’re right. I just want to make sure the transition goes smoothly.”

“Of course.”

“And that you’re safe and okay.”

“Gramps--”

“And that you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

“--the pancake’s burning.”

That set him off. He jolted out of his chair faster than his age and capabilities should have allowed. It was a miracle too, because the poor pancake was seconds away from catching fire on the pan. A long sigh left Gramps’s lips as he turned off the stove. “I think I’ll give this to the birds.”

“You best do that, because I won’t eat that piece of charcoal.”

You shared a quick chuckle between each other, savouring the warmth and comfort that came. If someone else had found you that day in the field of endless grass, you weren’t sure if you’d be so lucky. It was by chance Gramps was the one to discover you, so you couldn’t imagine life otherwise.

Once your pancakes were gone and your bag all packed, you traveled to the train station in the early rays of sun. Gramps was the type of enjoy the silence of nature, but to you, it was excruciating.

It didn’t matter where you went. Each time, you looked past your shoulder, to the fading mountains, to the little rabbits that scurried by. It was like you were on survival mode. But why should you be when there was nothing out here? It was so peaceful, so wonderful that you couldn’t imagine anything coming out to get you.

Smile. It’s okay, I promise. I’m here.

You froze and glanced past your shoulder towards the rolling hills and the fading grass. That voice--you knew it. But had you dreamed it up? There was no one here but you and Gramps. A short sigh left your lips and all Gramps could do was ruffle your hair comfortingly.

The train ride was nice. With the calm chugging and the way it swayed, you didn’t mind it at all. Every now and then, your eyes fluttered open and closed. Maybe you were tired. Maybe you weren’t a morning person. Whatever the reason, you submitted to the lull and closed your eyes.

-----

Not a single soul moved for what felt like centuries. The moment Ray, Gilda and Don arrived at the scene, it was clear that nothing else could be done. Mama smiled at her children viciously. She wasn’t here to play nice any longer. Today, she was the hunter and her children the prey.

“It was a clean break. She will recover smoothly,” Mama curtly announced. “And Norman?”

You didn’t like the way she looked at him, or the way her grip seemed to tighten on your limp arms. Her gaze dangerously narrowed and she said, “Your shipment date has been set.”

Your heart stopped and your blood ran cold. Norman’s shipment date had been set? No, that couldn’t be. Your plan required at least another week until everything fell into place. Norman was the core of it all. Without him, what would you do?

And speaking of which, he was going to die.

Die.

Die.

Die.

He was going to die.

You squirmed in Mama’s grasp, hoping--praying that you could maneuver around this. Norman wasn’t going to die. You wouldn’t let him.

“Let me--let me go!”

It was reckless and it was stupid to think he’d be able to evade Mama’s sight just like that, but you had to try.  Didn’t Emma say you’d all leave here together? “Norman--!”

He blinked as if he’d woken up from a long dream. The forced smile the sprouted on his lips looked painful. Don’t struggle, it said.

Don’t struggle? How did he expect you to sit around and do nothing? If anyone should be shipped out first, it should be you. Why? Because you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you let any of your family go.

Mama glared down at you with a cold smile. “You can’t fight me more than you can stop the sun from setting,” she said, heaving you higher off ground. Your leg hit her arm and a cry escaped your lips. Norman flinched and Emma remained frozen in place.

You were always the strong one, not Emma, not Ray, and not Norman. Because you were one of the eldest, it was your responsibility to be the shoulder to cry on and to stand when no one else could. To see you holding back tears and gritting your teeth tight enough to make your gums bleed made Norman’s little heart break.

He didn’t care about his shipment date. All he wanted was to see you safe.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of faces, voices and regrets. The sharp pain in your leg long faded, leaving only a dull throb that stayed as a reminder of your failure. Yes, that was what you were, right? You couldn’t complete the plan even with Don, Gilda and Ray distracting Mama. You were pathetic. A waste of space.

The door creaked open and you sat up a little straighter. You smiled at the trio as they entered the room. “Hey guys.”

“How are you feeling?” inquired Norman. He took a seat by your bedside and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Ray pulled up another chair. He hid his face behind his fringe to conceal his grim frown. It didn’t work though, and you merely smiled at him. He huffed irritably, as if he didn’t want you to know he worried so much.

“I didn’t think she’d go that far.” Ray quietly muttered. You knitted your brows together with a absentminded shrug. “And to think I was that close to getting her watch.” Emma’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I had--”

“It’s fine Emma.” you said with a warm smile. “Broken bones heal, it’s not permanent.” She looked like she wanted to say something, but with the warm smile on your face, she couldn’t gather the courage to. Instead, she settled for a tight hug.

It was hard to look her in the eye anyway. The sadness she tried so hard to force down only added to your guilt, and you weren’t sure if you could think straight with all the regret.

“I’m sorry this happened.” you began. “Now that I’m hurt, you’re worrying for me.”

Emma pulled away as Norman gave a firm shake of his head. “None of this is anyone’s fault.” he stated. "None of us saw that coming, and even if we did, I’m not sure we’d be any good outwitting Mama on the spot like that.” He offered a gentle smile that made you feel just a little bit better.

-----

Gentle smiles. A warm summer breeze. Soft kisses. Tender touches. That was what reminded you of the boy in your dreams. Although you couldn’t recall his face every time you awoke, you remembered the fact that he was handsome and kind.

Gramps offered a warm smile. “Good morning.” You covered your yawn with a hand. “I’m assuming we’re here?”

He nodded. “Are you excited?” It was obvious Gramps knew the question. He only wanted to hear the answer from your mouth rather than from an assumption. As much as you wished to be excited for such a grand opportunity, you weren’t sure you’d like school. Well, how could you guess when you’ve never been to school in the first place?

At least from what you could recall.

“I still don’t know how to feel about this,” you quietly say. Gramps guides you along the walkway and out of the train, where you step out of the station and to the bustling streets of the city. You frown. Gramps said you were going to a boarding school, was it supposed to be somewhere as crowded as here?

From what you read, boarding schools needed large spaces to accommodate dormitories, classrooms, and sports fields. Was there such a thing as space in this congested collection of skyscrapers?

You shook your head to yourself and followed Gramps down whatever path his old-fashioned map led him to. He walked slow. Too slow for your liking. Not only that, but with all the people around, you couldn’t bear not to stick close to his side. What if he got lost? What if you got lost? Or kidnapped and sold on the black market for organs?

Maybe you were just paranoid.

The looming skyscrapers offered no comfort, and the cool breezes that sent shivers down your spine weren’t helping either. You hopped over a patch of ice and pulled your jacket closer just as Gramps came to a stop.

A lot of land stood in the middle of all the skyscrapers, where a pale field of grass stretched out over the acres of land. Buildings that looked like castles peppered themselves out in the form of classrooms, mess halls, and corridors.

You stood in the shadow of the tall brick walls. It separated the school from the rest of the city. An overwhelming feeling of bittersweet hope filled your system, as if you’ve stood in front of a wall like this before. Had you been here? No. You were sure this was your first time seeing the school.

“Take care Letha.” Gramps said. “Don’t forget to eat and exercise, as well as make some new friends. I expect you to call at least once a week, just so I know you’re doing fine.” You smiled a little, cheeks warm in embarrassment. “Gramps, I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

“I know, I know. Just...this is a big step for you.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Be careful, and have fun. Even if you don’t remember anything, as long as you have fun, it’s fine.” He wrapped you in a tight hug. “And most importantly, I love you Letha.”

You basked in the warmth of his arms. You didn’t need to worry about your memories in that moment because you had Gramps. He was your world. Your family. What more could you ask for? But then he pulled away, and the warmth didn’t linger.

You were still incomplete.

The next day, you found yourself wandering the halls aimlessly, picking apart each detail and escape route in sight. The hall to your left had an exit to the school courtyard, a peaceful place with metal chairs and picnic tables. To your right sat another hall, which also had an exit to another courtyard. Then in front of you stood the front entrance, where the side exits fanned out in the halls next to it.

“Hey, you’re the new girl, right? Letha Meek-aye...Mikhaylov?”

You spun around faster than the speed of light. In front of you stood a girl, perhaps a year older with an unfriendly frown. She wore the generic school uniform: black skirt, long socks, white blouse, gray sweater vest, and a tie. Her bright, red locks stood out like a sore thumb. They curled past her shoulders in beach waves, framing her narrow, freckled face in rouge.

For a moment, you blanked out. When was the last time you spoke to someone, much less a teenager your age? Even though this girl wasn’t intimidating, it wasn’t like you wanted to talk to her. The point of coming here was to figure out if anything jogged your memory and then leave. It wasn’t playtime. “I’m new.” Your voice came out calmer than you felt. “Is that an issue?”

Despite the pointed look on her face, you had a feeling she was one of the nicer people in the area. She had a soft look in her green eyes, as if she understood what it felt like to be a new kid. “I’m Flanna Morris,” she said with a small smile. “Nice to meet you Letha.”

Flanna had an accent. By the hard ‘r’s and the elongated ‘oo’ sounds, you guessed she had to be from Ireland. Gramps told you it wasn’t too far from here, but still a while away.

You sent Flanna a cautious side eye. She was being too friendly. “Yeah, nice to meet you too...Flanna.” A hearty laugh that bellowed in her stomach echoed in the quiet corridors. “Look,” she said, “I’m not here to bully you. I just wanted to offer some help.”

Help? Yeah right. No one in this world offered help without asking for something in return. Besides Gramps maybe--but he was a special case, it didn’t count.

“Come on, I’ll show you around Letha.” The look on Flanna’s sweet face made it hard to decline. If you weren’t interested in seeing if there were any places you missed, then you would have declined. But perhaps Flanna could show you more than the shallow surface of this boarding school.

You passed to through the quiet corridors, where the sun shone through the windows overlooking the street. The sun rose over the horizon and up the edge of the skyscrapers’ base. Cars bustled about, and even through the thick brick walls, you heard all the honking and yelling of the early morning traffic.

“So, where’re you from?” Flanna inquired. You tugged on the strap of your bag’s shoulder strap. “Far away.”

“What do you mean by ‘far away’?”

“I mean the countryside.” you clarified. Flanna ‘ohhh’ed. “The city must be a huge change for you then, I know it was for me.” You knitted your brows together. So she was from the countryside in Ireland? That’s more than a simple change of scenery. No wonder Flanna wanted to help you.

“Okay, so here’s the science hall. Ms. Darsey is one of the best teachers you can have around. You’re a juniour, right? I’m a senior--if you couldn’t already tell...”

Flanna talked a lot. No, she didn’t just love talking, she loved explaining all her experiences with x, y, and z teacher, as well as what classroom and what day of the month it was. She had a wonderful memory, you had to admit, but that made her stories long. Her energy was like a breath of fresh air, and that red hair of hers sparkled like jewels in the morning light.

Flanna’s hair was fiery just like a girl’s you used to know. Her face wasn’t clear in your mind whenever you thought of her, but the joy she always brought you stayed. It made your heart warm. Flanna seemed to have a similar effect, but not as strongly as the girl you once knew.

“You have Mr. Dursley for English,” she noted. “Make sure you don’t stick out. He’s a big pain and if you’re late, he’ll give you a detention.” You raised a brow. Mr. Dursley detained teenagers for being late? What kind of nonsense was that? You decided to phone Gramps later and ask him if that were true. He’d know. Hopefully.

The look on your face made Flanna chuckle, but you had a feeling she didn’t understand your thought process. “Don’t worry,” she casually said. “You’ll be fine. I bet’cha Connor and James will be the first to get a detention. They’re both trouble makers--little devils. Especially James.” You stared up at Flanna’s bright, green eyes. They sparkled like the sun against her hair. You’ve seen that look before, the one of unsaid love and adoration. Long ago, someone looked at you like that.

But who?

You wracked your brain for answers. It was on the tip of the tongue. Right there--just in front of you. Yet it was as if something were preventing you from seeing the truth. The one postulate you knew stuck throughout the days you’ve forgotten who you once were.

Backtrack. Backtrack.

A boy. Light hair. Soft eyes. Kind smile. A laugh that was like music. And the calling of your name.

“(Y--n)!”

Yes, that was the sound of his voice, right? Or maybe it was a stranger’s instead, someone’s you’ve heard on the street. Then whose name was that? Was it even a name to begin with? Maybe it was a word instead and you misheard it as a name. That thought made your heart throb in the worst way possible. Ice filled your veins, and you found yourself pausing to stare out the crystal, clear windows.

“Something wrong?” Flanna inquired. You blinked away the haze and turned to her with a shake of your head. “Just nervous.” A bright smile burst onto Flanna’s lips. “Ah, I see. No worries, you’ll do great. And if you don’t it’s your first day, right? Nothin’ wrong with messin’ up a little.”

You wished you could believe Flanna, but something deep in your heart said otherwise. A slip-up could cost someone more than their reputation. Possibly their life. You couldn’t speak from experience, but you were sure you’d seen a sacrifice. Long ago. Far away in the distance.

Flanna stopped in front of your first period class. “We still have about fifteen minutes before school starts. Everyone’s probably in the cafeteria eating breakfast or fooling around in the field. I recommend you come early to class so you don’t get caught up in the crowd.” And with that, she waved, turning on her heel to hurry away. “I’ll see you during lunch! We have it together, so I’ll come find you in the cafe!”

She rounded a sharp corner and disappeared, leaving you alone in the quiet hall. You peeked in through the open door. At a long desk sat a teacher, who stood at the notice of your presence. She wore thin glasses on her old squarish face, a white blouse with a tie, a woolen navy blazer, and black trousers with heels to match.

The teacher had a kind face, with eyes that were soft with years of wear and tear. The smile on her lips said it all--she had seen things. Many things. “Welcome, I assume you’re Letha Mikhaylov?” She had a crinkle in her voice like the edges of her eyes when she smiled. It complimented her kindly face.

“Yes.” you replied. “That’s me.”

“Well I’m Mrs. Walker.” She motioned for you to come in, that sweet smile still on her lips. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve been informed that you have amnesia. May I ask how much you remember?” You folded your hands together. It was the least you could do to look less nervous.

“I remember skills, knowledge, and the arts. I do not recall my original name or what my life was like before, but I am still highly-functional. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Walker. ”

The way you worded your sentences was off-putting to the teacher. It wasn’t normal for high school students to be so in-line, much less well-off with their manners.

From the report she read, you were taken in by Alex Mikhaylov, a writer who lived in an old, deserted town. He claimed he’d been trying to help you re-gain your memories for nearly a year, but from the looks of it, there wasn’t much to go off of.

Mrs. Walker took a seat at her neat desk. A pencil sharpener sat at the corner along with a tissue box, stapler, tape dispenser, and a plastic name plaque. In bolded letters it said, Mrs. Walker. Of course, in cursive. A few photos were cramped by her computer, where she stood there, smiling with a young girl and a man. Mrs. Walker looked to be around twenty-eight to thirty in that photo.

You stood by her desk awkwardly. Were you supposed to sit in the back? Near the window? Or in the front? The sinking feeling of unfamiliarity plagued your mind as you ran a hand through your locks.

There weren’t any other students here besides you.

“You may take a seat wherever you’d like Letha,” Mrs. Walker said. “I do not assign seats in this class, but if there is an issue, I can if you’d like. Is there anything I should know about you?” You shook your head and took a seat by the window. The football fields, frost-bitten and white, stretched out as far as the eye could see. A little to the left of that were the dormitories. Red brick walls and sparkling clean window panes, just like every other building at the school.

Winter was a wonderful season, but you wished it weren’t so cold all the time. Maybe if there were a bit of snow, it would cheer you up, jog your memory even. “I’m not sure if I have anything of importance.” Your voice echoed in the deserted classroom like a bell. “But I hope I can do my best.”

A smile broke out onto Mrs. Walker’s lips. “Don’t hope, do.”

And so you did. You vowed to do what you could with whatever you could. You weren’t going to hope to do your best, or hope to find your memories because you would. They’d come back to you, and you were going to do everything in your power to get them back.

PART FOUR COMING SOON [GIVE ME LIKE THREE DAYS TO ADD A BONUS PORTION BECAUSE I LOVE YOU GUYS] -->UPDATE: PART FOUR HERE <--

[sgtnightwolfinthetardis]

Running for Safety

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Mutant Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1645

Summary: You may not have gotten perfect grades in biology in high school, but you knew enough to know you wanted no part of the experiments you overheard the scientists talking about. Recently captured by Hydra for your ability to transform into a wolf, you take the first opportunity presented to run for your life. Alone and afraid, you suddenly find yourself in the company of Hydra’s deadliest assassin.

Warnings: Brief mention of what Bucky suffers under Hydra control. My shameless and self indulgent love of wolves projected onto a character.

A/N: I was working on my fic for @strwbrrybucky ’s Writing Challenge, but this wouldn’t get out of my head and I knew I would have no peace (and no chance of getting the other fic done) until I wrote it. This takes place in the same universe as the writing challenge fic, and shows the first meeting between the Winter Soldier and his little wolf. I have a few other ideas for this pairing so let me know if you like them or if there is anything else you want to see.

Run for your life. You had heard the phrase in movies and television shows, read it in books, and even used it jokingly in conversation. Nothing could have ever prepared you for what it would feel like to live the words.

You could hear the far away murmurs of the scientists and guards as you ran down the empty hallways, your hearing as enhanced in this form as in your four legged one. It was your hearing that had prompted your escape, the risk of the scientists discovering that your senses were also enchanted in human form well worth avoiding the experiments you had overheard being discussed.

Door after door led to nothing but empty rooms, devoid of potential weapons, or even solid places to hide. You could hear footsteps getting closer and closer as you ran. A quick breath brought with it the scent of salvation. You could smell gunpowder coming from one of the rooms up the hall. You had no experience with firearms, but a weapon that could be used from a distance would be far more effective than just your claws. You wrenched the door open, relieved to find it unlocked, and slipped inside. You turned to find yourself looking into blue eyes and a raised knife.

The tall man smelt of leather and gunpowder, his metallic left arm gleaming under the dull light of the room. Though his face was expressionless and he made no move to approach you, every canine instinct you possessed screamed at you that this was a predator. You didn’t have time to berate yourself for mistaking his scent for a gun, or for not realizing that the room wasn’t empty. With footsteps approaching you had only one option left, beg.

“Please, please help me,” you began, your voice hoarse from disuse. You hadn’t spoken a word since you were captured. “The things they are going to do to me, I…I can’t go back to that room!”

The man cocked his head as he took in the intruder to his room. With a shaking body and tears falling freely, you were the picture of desperation. He shouldn’t care. Hydra had made it perfectly clear over the years that he wasn’t allowed to care about anything or anyone. He was a weapon, and weapons felt nothing. Yet something about you was different. The way you spoke, the fear that choked your voice when you spoke of the room, of what awaited you. He knew that fear.

His thoughts went unwillingly to his own nightmare room, the unbearable combination of fire and ice. The metal chair with its unbreakable restraints, the electricity that lit his body on fire, burning him from the inside out. The cryo chamber, the soul crushing cold that dragged him slowly into uneasy and forceful sleep. Worst of all, he thought of the anticipation. Thought of being dragged or ordered to that room, knowing what was coming, what he had no chance of escaping.

“Please don’t let them find me. I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

He took in the abraded skin on your wrists where you had clearly freed yourself from being tied up, the bruises littering the skin visible to his eyes. Everything about it was wrong. His head ached as a flash of blond hair flooded his mind, a voice that was somehow both familiar and not proclaiming its hatred of bullies. Footsteps grew louder, and he heard your heart rate spike. The decision, though amounting to treason, was easy.

“Under the bed.”

You didn’t hesitate, throwing yourself under the cot pressed up against the wall in the corner of the room. You curled into a ball as a blanket was draped so that it was lying partially on the bed and partially on the floor, hiding you from view. The blue eyed man sat heavily on the bed and began sharpening his knife if you were gauging the sound correctly. When the door slammed open you couldn’t help yourself, shifting into wolf form so you could curl yourself into a smaller ball.

You couldn’t understand a word of the Russian that flowed back and forth between the man on the bed and the newcomers to the room. Eventually however, the men left, frustration souring their scent. The blanket was lifted before you had a chance to change back and you yipped in surprise, the golden eyes of your wolf form meeting blue.

The man didn’t flinch away, or even seem overly surprised to find a wolf under his bed where there should have been a human. He simply smirked and remarked, “Clever trick, little wolf. I assume this is what the scientists meant when they said you were special.”

You took a few tentative steps out from under the bed before changing back. “Are they really gone?”

“For now,” the man said. “It’s only a temporary reprieve though, there is no escape from this place.”

His words were excruciating in their truth, something you had known in the back of your mind, but hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. Tears sprang again to your eyes, and to your shock, the man reached out to wipe them away. You flinched away from the touch at first, but his hand was surprisingly gentle.

“Save your tears little wolf, I can buy you some time, give you a place to rest, to heal. I leave for a mission in three days, I can keep you hidden until then.”

“So they can then tear into me with a fresh start,” you said bitterly.

The man nodded, guiding you to sit down on the bed while he fished a first aid kit out of a large leather pack by the door. “ I know it doesn’t seem like much of a relief, but it's far better than going into it already in pain.”

He spoke with the voice of a man who had experience with such matters, and you felt a surprising flash of anger flow through you at the thought of those who had hurt him.

“Who are you?” You asked as he cleaned the cut up skin around your wrists, hissing a bit as the alcohol burned.

“They call me the asset, or Soldat,” he said.

“Asset is not a name!” You said with a grumpy huff, offended at another example of dehumanization. If one more person called you an “it” while you were here, you were going to find a way to give them rabies. “Soldat is Russian for soldier, right.”

“Yes.”

“Can I call you that?”

“You can call me whatever you like, little wolf,” he said, tying off the bandages on your wrists.

“Soldier fits,” you declared. "Soldiers protect people, like you protected me.”

“Soldiers fight battles, little wolf,” he corrected with a shake of his head. “I also won’t be much protection when they finally figure out you’re here.”

“You could have given me up, but you didn’t. It’s more than I could have hoped for, more than I’ve gotten since I was kidnapped and woke up in this hellhole,” you told him, reaching out to hold onto both of his hands. “Thank you.”

The soldier’s eyes softened as he looked down to where your hands touched his. He so rarely received touch that didn’t hurt. “You should get some rest, little wolf, I imagine they haven't let you have much. I’ll wake you up if you need to hide.”

You nodded, and let him help you lie down on the bed, curling up under the covers. Despite still being without a solution to your captivity, you felt safe with the soldier. His scent was strangely soothing, and he gave off body heat that you could feel just from sitting beside him.

You were overwrought, overwhelmed, and so very tired. It was the only excuse you could think of to explain the high pitched whine that left your throat when the Soldier started to move away.

“Please don’t go,” you said quietly, unable to look at him and feeling the heat burn in your cheeks. “You smell good, you smell like safety.”

It was the most pathetic excuse you had ever come up with, and made you sound like a lunatic. You were just deciding to never speak again when the covers shifted, and you felt warmth engulf you. The soldier adjusted his position, moving until you were curled up against his side, your nose pressed into the crook of his neck. Strong arms wrapped around you and a low voice whispered softly into your ear.

“Go to sleep, little wolf. I’ll watch over you.”

Snuggling deeper, you breathed in his comforting scent. Lulled by the soldier’s warmth, his scent, and his promise of safety, you slept.

[yandere-wishes]

How the Original Villains Act With Their Twisted Wonderland Counterparts Part 2

I’ve had well over twenty requests for a part 2, so here it is. Please enjoy.

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

Meeting the two Scarabia boys is an utter nightmare for Jafar! Moreso it's a dream come true....dressed like a nightmare. The poor sand sorcerer didn't even know how he turned from evil genius to exhausted stay at home father overnight. It could have been because he had to save Kalim and Jamil from crashing a flying carpet. Or when he had to get the two young boys to make up after a huge fight. Either way, Jafar has become their -unwilling- illegitimate father.

He's always running around after Kalim trying to make sure he doesn't get himself killed in some way shape or form. At one point Jafar got so fed up that he just baby-proofed all of Scarabia....and still Kalim ended up with a mild concussion and broken rib. Even though the young royal is way more trouble than he's worth, Jafar still deeply cares for him, in a twisted, melodic manner he tries to morphe his relationship with Kalim as what he could have had with the sultan. Sure it's a lot of work, but it's rewarding. Just seeing the white-haired boy smile and wrapped his arms around Jafar's waist is worth more than all the treasures in the cave of wonders.

As for Jamil....well Jafar has high expectations for him. He sees so much raw potential in the boy, a glimmer of what he, himself could have been! It's comical really, how desperately Jafar tries to give Jamil everything that he lacked in life. He's always boosting the younger boy's ego, molding him to believe that he is the best! It's something Jamil never had in his life, someone who tells him that he can -and one day will be- more than just a slave.

Although he tries to mold Jamil in his image, Jafar also does try to keep both boys on friendly terms. He'd hate to see either of them wind up the way he did, lost, and forgotten in a lamp made of his own misery.

The concept of a family has always been an oddity for Hades.

The lord of the dead detests his actual family. Brothers and nephews prancing around in the spotlight, whilst he's left to dwell in the neverending darkness of the underworld. Families are useless, they're nothing more than thrones that prick your finger every time your inches away from plucking the roses of victory. 

Although he'd be lying if he didn't say that there was something...exceptional about the two Shroud brothers. They're bizarrely co-dependent, needing one another to function properly. Without one the other turns into a blundering mess of "ERRORS"  and "CAN NOT PROCESS, PLEASE REBUT AND TRY AGAIN LATER". The words don't really make much sense to Hades, but the intention his clear. They're two halves of a dysfunctional whole. 

It's even more alarming when the two boys -who, the lord of the dead, is starting to notice look a little too much like him- start to open up to him. Letting him stay in their room and permitting him to ramble about his horrible family and "shiny" nephew for hours on end. For the first time since his creation, Hades starts to get the slightest feeling that maybe, just maybe he might be wanted by someone, that someone (or someones) does indeed care about him.

The feeling only starts to spread when Ortho falls into the habit of calling him "Bampás" and wrapping his icy cold metallic arms around his waist. It's not an unpleasant feeling, just a bit shocking and almost to an extent, painful. It brings back rage-filled memories of watching Jercules and his dear big bro hugging, memories of how left out he felt everywhere, of how for almost all eternity he was doomed to be alone.  

However, it's not like he doesn't enjoy the hug, it shows the effort the little boy puts in showing just how much he loves his newly found father. Its teeth rotting sweet and...precious, yeah that's a good word for it.

Idia's more drawn back both physically and emotionally. He's constantly hunched over the glowing cube, watching armored heroes slaughtering each other and oddly attractive girls arguing over some plain, boring looking guy. It's a bit annoying, but Hades is all too familiar with the lack of interest in leaving one's dwelling and interacting with others, so he lets it slid...or rather he used to.

As Idia gets used to Hades' looming presence he starts talking a LOT more, never really stops rambling about some new "game" or "movie". It's all dandy, over the centuries Hades has become an expert in pretending to listen to others, a key talent when associating with the other deities of Olympus. However, when Idia starts trying to get him to use that glowing cube or a smaller version that fits in his hand, Hades starts wishing he'd paid more attention to the young god's endless verbose.  

The chairs in this century are annoyingly uncomfortable and Idia's constant muttering of the word "boomer" isn't helping. Every time Hades presses a wrong key button thing and Idia mutters that irritating word, he half expects the cube to blow up. Plus why must that light coming from the inside be so damn bright, his eyes are starting to peel out of their sockets. 

Ortho's a bit more helpful, explaining in superfluous detail what everything is for. Although each word coming from the boy's mouth just seems like pointless gibberish. 

Hades is starting to think that getting that hunk of moussaka out of his throat was easier than understanding these two. 

Maleficent has a habit of being just a bit too proud of the four Diasomnia boys.

Silver and Sebek are competent in her mind, which in and of its self is a compliment coming from the witch of thrones. They don't trip over themselves, they understand that babies do in fact grow into adults, and most importantly they are willing to die for their master. They'd make perfect henchmen, better than what she had in her time.

Lilia is an ever-present paradox to the mistress of evil. Ever since she found herself being alive once more, things from the past have gained the nasty habit of disappearing almost entirely from her memory. She swears one her stolen wings that she knows Lilia personally from lifetimes ago. But she can never remember where exactly they met or why every time he looks at her, his eyes are filled with a sort of distant sadness. Like an ancient wound that never healed right.

Malleus is special, to say the least. He's her grandson, after all, a reminder that all she did in this world was NOT in vain. His personality is even a carbon copy of her's, distant and secluded yet humble and fierce. He's been able to climb the ranks to fifth strongest mage worldwide, a feat unaccomplished by others in their family.

It's become a rather alleviate pass time to submerge the four ( she's probably older than Lilia)  young man in old tails and fantasies about the ancient times. Tales about how the evil human kings would seek to destroy the fae folk. How some fairies even sided with those pesky humans. Their looks of astonishment (and Lilia's look of satisfaction) soothes the old witch's, rotten heart. It even jolts some memories of a young blond girl, one who would always florrick through the forest by Malificent's side. Beasty was her name, or at least she thinks it was and in some odd prank played by fate she sees Beasty's cheerfulness in all their faces.

[wizkiddx]

two beautiful girls

someone asked for me to try dad!tom again so here's my humble attempt, I really really hope it doesn't disappoint but honestly I didn’t spend a lot of time on it before my brain turned to mush :) hope everyones okay... today seems to have felt particularly shitty for no real reason, but sending lots o love <3

dad!tomholland x reader

Summary: dealing with your daughter while tom’s away is tricky to say the least, but its all worth it when the three of u are reunited again // fluff (and maybe angst if u squint rlly hard)

(I can’t work out where this pic is from to credit but pls lmk if it’s yours/ u know)

Normally, hearing the door turn in the lock of your front door was one of the best sensations in the world. No matter how long Tom had been away for you would always be filled with such a sense of relief and warmth just by knowing he was there. Sometimes it’d be after he left only a couple of hours previous for a two hour meeting; or after a quick long weekend in New York for an event; ranging to a two and half month block of shooting across the globe. Especially since little Nova was born, your longing for Tom was only quadrupled because you also had a complete ‘daddy’s girl’ pining after him too. 

Tom had only been away for a couple of nights, yet your 18 month daughter seemed to think she’d been abandoned for months on end. She had slept for less than 6 hours each day and as much as you tried to appeal to her wise and intellectual side (which didnt really exist - she was only 18 months) that sleep would pass the time till his return ; she was having absolutely none of it. Nova kept you up for hours and hours, screaming, screeching and wailing because you weren’t as ‘funny’ as daddy or as soft as her daddy. And what does a sleep deprived baby lead to…? A grumpy baby. She refused to eat which was so awful because then you felt as if you were neglected your child. 

It just made you feel a bit of a failure, to be quite frank. The house was a mess - you’d tried almost every toy to cheer her up, which Nova had actually found great joy in launching back at your face in spite. You were a mess too - at one point, who knows when, you had tied your hair back but now flyaways were everywhere as it pulled itself out of the grasp of the too-loose scrunchie. Oh and then there was the babyfood Nova had kindly spat all over your shirt. 

It had been a really fun three days. 

It was therefore counter intuitive, the fact that Tom’s homecoming only filled you with dread. But you didnt want him to think your were a failure. You were supposed to be Novas mum after all, why must things be so hard when they’re supposed to be all natural and easy? She hadn’t even reached the terrible twos phase yet - that seemed like a far off hellish nightmare you were trying to avoid thinking of. Of course, you loved loved loved Nova - she was already growing up so fast that it actually hurt your heart a little, to think of how much in even a week she’d grown. 

But it was still fair to say she’d been a little devil this week. 

This evening you had finally managed to tempt her to sit in the high chair, she’d had about two mouthfuls when you heard Tom entering. Thats exactly what you needed, Tom to get her all over excited so she wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t go down and wouldn’t let you rest. In the madness of it all, you hadn’t managed to even attempt to clean up the sea of toys either so Tom would immediately have all your failings before his eyes. Just bloody great. 

“Where are my two beautiful girls?” 

Like clockwork, he’d always say it and Nova would always gurgle out a “dada” just as she did today. Though this time she kicked her legs in desperation, momentarily looking at you with the kindest eyes she’d given you the week. It was only because she wanted something, you knew that, yet you still gave in. With a sigh you stood up and unclipped her from the high chair, even if this was the first time in a good few days she’d been happily eating her dinner. Or rather, had taken the single first bite. 

She had something to show her Dad though. When he’d left she still didnt have certain skills, capabilities that only now she had learnt. Nova was very proud of her knew ability to kick things - recently discovered when you were attempting to put her shoes on to go to the supermarket. Instead, after 5 attempts of her impressively booting them across the room you’d surrendered - Nova walked round the shops barefoot (probably a bit irresponsible on your part but desperation calls). 

So now she giggled whilst hurtling through the room, as Tom rounded the corner in grey joggers and a black hoodie. You watched his eyes light up, whilst he knelt down at the door way to welcome your curly haired princess into his arms. With all her force, she barrelled into him , her little arms wrapping as far around his broad chest as she could. Immediately Tom reciprocated, pulling her up into his arms and swaying slightly side to side. 

“Hey little one, I missed you!” He was positively grinning from ear to ear as he rose the two of them up , pressing a quick peck to her unruly locks. 

Only then did he look up and survey the surrounding situation, you saw him track his eyes through the mess of toys on the floor, over the counter top piled high with dishes you hadn’t got round to doing and the bin that was overflowing because you just had kept putting off taking it out. It was so embarrassing that you daren’t to even look at him, instead focusing completely on mixing the now lukewarm mush you’d made for Nova round the bowl. Tom slowly picked his way through the hazardous floor, inspecting you closely. It honestly made him feel a pang of guilt, the way you looked beyond exhausted and run down - the dark shadows under your eyes only testament to that. 

“Hey darling.” He spoke softly, keeping Nova pressed to his chest in one arm while the other went to rub your side. “You okay?” Not wanting to disappoint him, you momentarily collected yourself before looking up at him with the a small smile.

“Yeh I’m good. How was the flight?” You knew Tom already saw past your attempt of small talk, the was his eyebrows furrowed slightly being the tell. But before he could question you further Nova started wriggling round in his hold, making him arch back to look at her. 

“Have you been a good girl for mummy little one?” Given your defeated look, Tom was pretty sure he already knew the answer - Nova chose instead of confirming either way to just wriggle some more as she shouted Dada. 

“What you doing crazy?” He chuckled rhetorically, bending down to let her out of his hold, where she then dragged him across the room to the foam mini ball she had. With her still slightly uncoordinated gait, she focused her eyes completely on the ball, her tongue slightly poking out the left corner of her mouth. Then with a forceful yelp she smashed the ball upwards and across the room, flying into a closed cupboard door before bouncing down to the floor. Expectantly Nova’s hazel eyes immediately then searched for her Dad’s - a massive smirk on her face. 

“NO WAY NOVA!!!” He shrieked, running and scooping her up once again, this time spinning her round so her legs flew out- her giggles enough to warm even the coldest heart of stone. “Your right foot is better than Manes!” He laughed, though neither girl in the room getting the football reference- Tom had long since given up hope of you getting invested in football, no matter how hard he had tried. “You’re gonna be the best little footballer Kingston has ever seen!” 

Nova seemed more than fulfilled with his praise, laughing and settling down in his hold whilst he straightened up glancing back at you again. 

“She’s learning so fast.” You mumbled up at him and Tom nodding, taking a seat in the chair next to you. 

“She’s got a pretty impressive teacher!” He tried so hard to perk you up, nudging your side as his gaze felt as though he was boring holes into you. 

Not knowing how to reply to his compliment you left it and the room faded to silence briefly, the atmosphere feeling rather uncomfortable for your marital home. 

“Do you mind finishing off her dinner if I take a shower?” You muttered under your breath, wanting an escape. 

Naturally Tom agreed, even if he watched you walk out the room with a worrisome expression on his face. He knew his job wasn’t easy for you at all. It had been hard enough when it has just the two of you, the long periods apart bore longer on you. Over the time Tom had been acting, he’d become somewhat used to these long periods of absence, it had just become the usual. But for you? You working a normal job meant it was harder. You couldn’t go on double dates with your friends - half the time you boyfriend was across a sea from you. Now though, with Nova, you’d lost someone you grew to depend on. Yes, it might only be for briefer periods of time but it still didn’t feel any easier.  He was effectively leaving you to be a single mother and although his family obviously endeavoured to support you in every way possible. It just wasn’t the same. 

So whilst Nova babbled excitedly her mostly gibberish in the highchair, Tom spent the time sweeping round the kitchen/diner , collecting up the toys into their boxes, loading up the dishwasher and wiping clean the surfaces - all whilst entertaining Nova with brief ‘no reallys’?” And “what ! That’s unbelievable’ and “so what did you tell them?” In response to her baby language babble. His fiery daughter was distracted by the food and one sided chat for all of 20 minutes, letting him just about finish up before she grew impatient of some more attention. 

“So what did you get up to then little miss nuisance?” He asked while wiping her mouth which was now smeared with her tomatoey gloop.

“Went park. Mummy made cookies!!”

“Cookies? No way can I have one?” He did honestly fancy the sound of a cookie, and after lifting her out the seat and onto his lap he looked round the kitchen in search of the baked goods.

“No.” She giggled with a mischievous twinkle in her eye “all gone!!”

“What?!?”

“All gone! Mummy and me drawed too look!” She pointed out the multicoloured scribble of uncoordinated lines spiralling together that had been stuck on the fridge. 

“Oooh that’s beautiful darling what else did you do?”

“Mummy and me played paw patrol! Mummy was silly!” Nova laughed at the memory, Tom squeezing her up into his chest again loving how bloody precious she was. 

“Why was mummy silly?” 

“She did Ryders voice! Mummy voice is better than Daddy’s!” 

“WHAT?!?” Shrieking in offence, Tom tickled her belly until she was squirming on the top of his thighs in fits of laughter, making Tom laugh away too. 

He truly loved his beautiful daughter. 

It took you a good couple of hours to venture downstairs, feeling for some ludicrous reason that you had to pluck up the courage. When you went down, you assumed that Nova had already passed out or was about to - the house was serene and quiet. So in your joggers and one of Tom’s big tees, you crept back down the stairs. Entering the kitchen first to get yourself a water and Tom a beer ( he never didn’t want a beer, especially after a long flight). As you entered, your feet seemed to loose their connection with you body making you halt jerkily, seeing the almost sparkling kithchen. All the toys and general clutter was gone from the floor; the dishes magically vanished, revealing a counter that you’d almost forgotten had existed. What you had done to deserve Tom was beyond you, yet you were so grateful - and  felt a flutter inside your chest as you went back out and into the living room. 

Tom had Nova sat on his thighs, though she was more like slumped against his chest as he tried to lull her to sleep with his deep voice quietly reading one of her superhero books. It had been unavoidable - she’d been indoctrinated into the world of Marvel before she could even talk, Tom insisting on wanting her to know that ‘she could be a superhero too if she wanted to’. The Spiderman baby grow, the captain marvel water bottle- the subtle nods to his roles where impossible to avoid in your house. His warm eyes briefly flicked up when he noticed you standing at the doorway, he paused his sentence to give you a warm smile and nod you over to the sofa beside him.  Still feeling a little self conscious, you stared at the floor while rounding the table and plonking yourself down next to him - allowing just a little gap of space. 

“Thanks for sorting the kitchen, I’m sorry-“

“Don’t worry at all darling” He arched over to you and pressed a quick peck to your forehead before Nova mewled in annoyance of her story being interrupted. He lightly chuckled, bringing the one hand that wasn’t holding the book to brush her unruly curls back off her head. 

Tom kept reading in his soft voice and you let your eyes slip close, just enjoying the peace that you hadn’t experienced in what felt like a lifetime as Tom’s voice lightly hummed through your head. That was until Nova decieded to interrupt the calm just once more. She grumbled insistently and squirmed in her Dads lap, before heavily pulling her head up and blinking at you - holding her arms out expectantly. 

“Think she wants her mum” Tom whispered, already lifting her over to you as you sat slightly bemused by the whole situation. Tom was home, her daddy was home, why did she want you? Tom laughed at your quizzical face as Nova burrowed her nose into you neck, letting out a contented huff. “My girls huh?”

“I promise you this is the first time this weekend she’s acknowledged me as anything more than mrs truchbull!”

“Well she’s spent all evening telling me about how good you are at baking and how your paw patrol voices are better than mine.” He murmured his words lowly, so as not to disturb Nova who was already asleep on your chest.

“She did?”

“She loves her mum… almost as much as I do” Chuckling, Tom wrapped his arm round you, pulling the both of you down to his chest while you swore your heart was exploding. 

“I love you too Tommy” 

Safe to say you and Nova were both exhausted, so after an almost shamefully short time your head rested heavier and heavier on Tom’s shoulder whilst he aimlessly carded his fingers through the ends of your hair. You really were an exceptionally amazing mother, before Nova Tom assumed he couldn’t love you anymore and yet seeing you cuddled up to his baby girl - his feelings for you could only grow infinitely. Making the executive decision to not move either of you upstairs to bed, he instead reached over to grab the blanket. He draped it over himself and his two best girls, choosing to stay in that magical moment for as long as possible. 

He loved his beautiful family of three.

And tess … Tess too ;)

[the-silentium]

Home Sweet Home

Masterlist - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 7569 words

Warnings: Angst, sexual innuendos.

A/N: Last “soft” chap before the action come back ~  

**Words in bold are words said in French, which means the clones can’t understand it.**

Taglist: @clone-rambles / @mandaloriandin / @apathetic-catastrophie / @jenstar1992-2 / @haloangel391 / @lightning-wolffe / @cherrydemon5​ / @and-claudia​ / @lackofhonor​ / @gaymasonjar​ / @depthsreturn​ / @koskareevesismyqueen​ / @leonidas-banana-phone​             

____________________

Nothing changed. Not the obnoxious people, not the earthy smells, nor the heavy atmosphere. The loud locks of the gates closing behind your group still resonated through your ears, sounding too much like the last nail sealing your coffin shut and not like a protecting device. Was it your instincts telling you that you made the wrong decision? Or was it just the dread of returning somewhere you never wanted to return? Either way, it was clear that you didn't feel any bits of nostalgia at being back between these rocky walls. 

Hells, even the council's room was giving off unpleasant vibes with its tall bookcases carved directly into the walls that protected way too many old books that weren't all redacted in French nor in Basic. A map of the planet hung on the furthest wall of the room, the different villages identified with their respective symbol to help with trades, hunts, fights. Frabas' name crossed out in blood-red ink to remind everyone of the overnight genocide that happened there. 

The lanterns were the only nice things in the room. The soft green and blue crystals contained within the glass enclosure bathed the whole room in their light. Maybe if you focussed on them long enough their glow would soothe your mind. 

"Excuse me? You spit on it?" Tech's sudden high pitch tone was surprising enough to pass through your incessant flow of thoughts 

"Yeah. Right there." He pointed at an intergrown knot close to the far extremity of the table where the heads usually sat. "What? Did you want me to piss on it? That's a bit too animalistic." Kayden added as soon as he noticed Tech's offended expression that quickly morphed into a disgusted one. 

"Honestly, with you people, I wouldn't have been surprised." Crosshair's jeer traveled the room in a second. It took even less to drop Kayden's mood.  

His hand tightened around yours and without losing a single second, you matched his grip to keep him from expressing his frustration through anything physical. Now wasn't the time to start a fight between your own team members when several other players might want to hurt you. 

If tonight's bad luck could turn into good fortune at least once, now would be the time. The 'diplomats' were out of harm's way, Kayden had technically done what he was told and thus was not considered a traitor, leaving you alone on the spot. 

"Look who just found his voice again." He caught your message and used his words instead. "I was sure you'd swallowed your tongue when you ran like a chicken back there."

"And who ran the fastest in the group eh?" The sniper walked to the table. His hands fell flat on the wood to support himself as he leaned forward, daring the brunette at your sides to make a move. 

"The fastest is usually the one to survive." He pointed out as he scratched at his clothed chest with his free hand, his right one still prisoner of your grip. 

"Crosshair." Hunter slightly pulled him backward by the pauldron and away from the incoming confrontation. "Enough." He added with a growl, clearly remembering how this wasn't his brother. Not fully. 

Against all expectation, Crosshair did back off, although he quickly moved his animosity towards the new source of irritation, clear proof that this wasn't the man with whom Hunter had shared so many memories, good or bad. He was a total stranger that didn't respect him at all and lived to push his buttons. Why he stayed with you all was a mystery, although you weren't complaining. Keeping him restrained while in the jungle would have been a true challenge. 

It was like waiting for a storm to explode. The dark grey clouds were there, the strong winds blew away everything in their wake, the thunder resonated in the distance, yet there wasn't any droplet of rain. The men faced each other just like in the cave, mere centimeters separated their chest plates and anytime now, the first blow would mark the start of a colossal downpour. 

It was nerve-wracking. Even Wrecker and Tech were watching, clearly pondering if they should intervene or if by doing so they would aggravate the situation. You started getting up as the door opened and startled you into seating down again. 

Never had you thought that seeing Arlan enter a room would make you feel relieved, yet, this was exactly how you felt at the moment. It seemed like the sudden entrance of an outsider was enough for Crosshair to back off. You subtly crossed your fingers that he wouldn't lash out at the leader even though the scene would very probably make you feel so much better. The consequences of going against Arlan just weren't worth it.  

Before the dark-haired leader could notice it, you separated your hand from Kayden's, both your backs straightened and your unbothered masks came back on. Wearing the well-worn suit of this fake cocky personality was deeply uncomfortable but truly necessary. Over the years it became your best shield and Kayden your best ally. 

"Take a seat." Arlan waved towards the table as he walked deeper into the room, passing Hunter and Crosshair like they weren't even there. It took years to be able to read the black-haired leader, but it definitely came in handy now. 

His calm tone hid a deep irritation that showed through the tightness gripping the muscles around his eyes. He quickly tamed his features as he took place at the end of the table, his elbows immediately meeting the hardwood of the armchairs to allow his fingers to interlace before him. 

Soon the 4 seats opposing you were occupied with rigid troopers. Their helmets still firmly on would have been seen as an enormous lack of respect if only Arlan's attention wasn't already focussed on two nasty boots dripping mud onto the piece of art that was the table.

Arlan only needed one look to communicate thoroughly his thoughts. The hard gaze that could easily be misinterpreted as a constipated one transpired enough threats that Kayden removed his boots without any further delay. The ultimatum was clear and you both knew that there was nothing Arlan despised more than repeating himself. Well, maybe you two were the firsts on his list, but that was especially because you loved to make him repeat himself. 

If only he didn't look like there was an entire fire-ants colony in his pants, Kayden would have kept his feet up for a bit longer just to raise the man's blood pressure a little. You swore he got more grey hair each time he had to talk with the two of you. 

The disapproving sigh accompanying the stormy grey hues boring deeply into yours was a true gift to Kayden whose smirk widened in consequence. 

"Do you know why you're here?" The question resonated within the room with utmost seriousness, a seriousness that you forced yourself to shrug nonchalantly in response. 

"Surely not because you missed me." You placed a smirk on your lips to copy your sidekick and complete the infernal duo act. 

His dark-grey sleeves rode up his arms as he bent forward, his elbows now resting on the table, to get a closer look at you, 3 chairs away. Whilst being very tempting, flinching under his hard stare was out of the question. Four months in a medbay with kind people almost made you forget what the world was really made of; selfish people who always looked out for weaknesses to exploit and were eager to beat others down in hope to raise themselves up. 

"We are here to talk relations between the Republic and your planet." Hunter sharply stated, cutting short the staring contest. "My team was sent in a preliminary manner to inform you of the Republic's intentions seeing as your representatives couldn't be reached through official channels. In the following days, two senators will be coming here with adequate troops to talk in the Senate's name." 

How the room got hotter in a second was a mystery. All you knew was that even though his tone was borderline too crisp to be qualified as diplomatic, Hunter's words were so perfectly chosen that you wondered if he'd done this kind of job before. 

As the silence following Hunter's declaration stretched, Arlan's gaze moved to the hard visor of the commando trooper. The intensity of his stare left you thinking that maybe he was able to see through the shade. Unfazed, Hunter stared right back as you did just moments prior. 

You nearly missed it. If you hadn't been watching Arlan as intently as you were doing, the minuscule flash in his eye would have been overlooked. A muscle jumped in his jaw, filling you with dread. Something was wrong. Somehow he had the upper hand and he was internally relishing his win. 

"A very well executed lie, but I am sorry to announce you that the Republic won't come here, Sergeant. Not after the Jedis signed a treaty to never come on this planet ever again." You were sure he paused just to get a reaction out of the commando. Hunter's helmet hid his expression perfectly. If he'd reacted or not was totally lost on everyone, unfortunately, it wasn't the same for Kayden whose eyes grew as big as saucers. "No Jedi, no clone, no senator, no Separatist, no outsider is welcome here." 

Say what now? Never before had you ever heard of Jedis ever landing a foot on Fors, even less signing a treaty. 

Hunter's helmet slightly dipped in your direction, surely to get some answers through your body language. Surely, he got the message when you gulped, wariness filling your eyes as you continued to stare at the man in his mid-50s. His message had been pretty clear from the very beginning. That he felt the need to add that the clones weren't welcome caused doubts in your village ethics to creep into your mind. 

As far as you knew, no one had ever been executed in cold blood. Sure, you'd heard stories as a child about how people who were a tad bit too disturbing in the community would vanish overnight, obviously thrown out into the jungle to be feasted on by some hungry creature. Without knowing if they were true events or simply a way to make children behave, you took a habit of sticking with Kayden as soon as the firsts Furants that created their nests in the crooks of the walls circling the village entered the gates to hide, signaling that 7 pm had recently passed and the Nightmares would show up in under an hour. After all, there was no better nuisance in Alryan than the two of you. 

Knowing that Arlan's smugness was carefully hidden under layers of practiced indifference, a very tantalizing urge to break your knuckles once again send tingles into your dominant hand. Breaking his nose for a second time would definitely help your mood as well as everyone else's in the room, you were sure of it. 

"The- the Jedis? But they never-" 

"It is not common knowledge." Arlan archly cut Kayden short and rolled his eyes with that very particular expression that made you feel like the stupidest idiot in the galaxy. In response, the tingles in your hand intensified. "This treaty is way older than me after all. We never needed the Republic's help in any way, not then and certainly not now." He at least had the decency to meet his eyes as he talked.

"And what do you think of the Nightmares? Frabas-" You piped up, the image of a traumatized red-head girl shaking in her bloody clothes popped in your mind. "They could've helped with that."

"They are protectors." He closed his eyes in exasperation and pinched his nose like he'd repeated the concept over and over again to a child that never retained anything. 

"They don't protect shit! They kill us!" 

Where had he been his whole life? Every night they came and howled, screeched, hissed, yapped and laughed on the other side of the gates in hope of having some juicy flesh and fresh blood to appease their hunger and thirst. Some even went as far as hitting the gates repeatedly in hope of breaking their way in. 10 hours per night, 368 nights a year, every year.

"They protect the Core that's in you--" He interrupted himself as soon as he noticed the irritation breaching his mask, allowing venom to drip through the closing cracks. His rage fit only lasted a second but it was a second too much. He gave you more than he wanted you to know. 

"What do you mean? In me?" You could feel yourself starting to shake. In apprehension, anger or fear you couldn't tell. There was too much going on at the same time, assaulting your already tired mind. 

"Nothing that you need to know." His tone was definitive, his grey eyes conveying the same message. 

"Bullshit!" You jump to your feet just as he pushed his chair to get up. "If it's in me like you say, I deserve to know!" 

Your yell must have triggered something, because as soon as the words flew from your mouth, Rhian and his troops entered the room, bows fully bent and ready to shoot in your direction. Elijah had his hammer in both hands, fully prepared to use it against a clone- your money went on Wrecker- if needed and Pete was ready to blow a tranquilizer- or it could easily be a fast-acting poison- into someone's neck. 

The answer to the intrusion was immediate. Wrecker's chair went flying behind him at the impact of his legs when he followed his CO's movement. All four troopers stood on their side of the table, imposing and totally ready to enter a fight if need be. You and Kayden though? Totally not ready. You were unarmed and by the time you took hold of Kayden's bow, at least three arrows would have found their way into your body. 

"All you really deserved was to die on Murphy Day." He snarled in your direction as his impatience once again showed through his slipping mask. "Throw them in the slammer."

That's it. Goodbye knuckles. Always the perceptive, Kayden grabbed your upper arm, right below the Algax's clean-cut, and pulled you back to his side even before you made the first step towards the bastard. Always there to keep you alive for another day. What a nice friend. 

"Hands behind your head." Rhian barked as he approached you and Kayden from behind. 

Doing as you were told, you noticed the troopers hesitating before doing as ordered when you nodded at them. Tech lifted his good hand, the other keeping hold of Crosshair's cage. One of the archers went to seize it, but a sudden shoulder to the sternum kept him away. 

He's not just a nerd. You smirked as the archer stumbled. 

"Let them keep it." Rhian waved off the fuming archer who definitely wanted to go back and win his fight. Too bad. "Walk ahead. You know the way." Rhian nodded towards the door after getting a hold of Kayden's bow and quiver, his very own bow aimed at the floor. The string was stretched just enough to cause serious damage if he needed to defend himself quickly, but he seemed to know that it wasn't needed. 

Kayden led the way with you in tow, Elijah and Pete moved away from the door to let you pass at a safe distance. Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed Rhian breaking formation to move up to Arlan, who surely waved him over. 

You sighed as you remembered that he didn't even tell you why he wanted you here. 

The clone's boots resonated against the rock floor at each of their steps, close enough to appease your mind. 

"Do you know a way out of here?" Hunter's voice emanated softly within your ear. 

You moved your shoulder blades in a circular motion as if you were stretching the muscles and nodded your head at the same time as to not look too suspicious to the archers escorting the group. Good thing that they didn't notice your earpiece yet.

Wrecker must have been the one right behind you because he relayed the message to Hunter through the private line. 

"Now?" You rotated your head from side to side like when you needed to crack your neck. 

"No." Came Wrecker's whisper. 

"In the slammer?" A small nod. 

"Yeah." 

"Then we wait and we get out as soon as possible." Hunter told his half-plan to the Batch who hummed their approvals. 

Once again the unusual parade that you formed along with the armored men attracted many curious eyes. Ignoring them was easier this time around, the familiarity of their chary gazes finally coming back to allow you to concentrate on something else. 

This part of the village was carved so deeply into the mountain that even the occasional howls coming from the jungle couldn't be heard. There couldn't have been better protection for a population of more than 700 people than a natural barrier of rock. Sure, this very convenient refuge could easily become a tomb for a lot of villagers in the event of a breach, but several emergency tunnels were created for this very situation. They were maintained at a perfect condition in case a repeat of Frabas' catastrophe ever came to happen. 

Every Alryan learned the location of every single tunnel at the youngest of age. They were only to be used in emergency cases and right now, it was an emergency. It all depended on the perspective. 

"It never changed." You stated quietly as the slammer's entrance came into view, the dark purple glow emanating from its depths was a stark contrast to the lively colors of the main area. 

Goosebumps rose on your arms as you followed Kayden down the tunnel. The nearby natural well raised the humidity in these parts of the mountain and thus caused the air to become colder. Just my luck, you thought as the fresh air infiltrated your clothes by the multiple tears in their fabric. 

"In there." Rhian speed-walked to catch up with Kayden and direct him to a cell carved into the wall on his left. 

You were locked up with him, Wrecker and Hunter got situated in the cell facing yours, Crosshair and Tech on the one right beside theirs. 

Right as Tech got in after a growling Crosshair, Rhian took hold of the cage and kicked Tech inside who landed in a yelp. You weren't even gripping the bars yet that the heavy door closed behind the engineer. 

"Give him back!" 

"Sorry 'bout that." He threw the cage in the air twice, the flame within shaking frantically as it hit the bars. "Orders are orders." He ignored the yells of his name bouncing in the detention center and walked out unbothered, his men in tow. 

"How quick can you get us out of here?" The urgency in Hunter's tone only added to your own raiding anxiety. What would Arlan do to Crosshair? He was totally defenseless. 

"Couple of minutes. But we'll need Back-Up. I hope you have it." You turned to Kayden who scoffed in mocked offense. 

"You have back-up?" Tech wondered out loud, tilting his head. "I thought no one would help you here." 

"Jeez. Thanks for the vote of confidence." Kayden held his heart before reaching for his chest pocket. "Back-up is my Godot." He pulled a hand-sized lizard from his pocket to show the Batch. 

The Godot's orange scales shone softly at Kayden's contact, their light reflecting onto the soft line of baby blue leaves growing on each side of its spine. Its three-fingered paws grabbed fingers and clothes to remain in place while two black eyes moved independently from one another to take in what was happening around. Its long tail wrapped around Kayden's wrist as he lifted it up to show off, the small leaves at its end shining brightly in surprise. 

Wrecker gasped and lifted his helmet to get a better view of the animal. "That's what I saw the first time, Tech! It's the lizard that disappeared!" 

"Nothing disappeared Wrecker. There was nothing there." Tech rebuked.  

"Don’t be so sure about that! They can camouflage themselves, right Back-Up?" At the half-baked order, the tiny lizard shut off its light and changed its skin pigmentation to copy its environment to perfection. 

"It disappeared Tech! See? That's what I saw and you didn't believe me!" Wrecker's tone raised as he pointed to Kayden's seemingly empty outstretched hand. 

"Wrecke-" You tried to warn him to keep his voice down but heard steps coming your way. 

"Back-up, go get the master key at home." Kayden hurriedly whispered to the Godot and quickly kneeled to allow it access to the ground so it could wander away and get the required object. 

A guard appeared at the end of the corridor just as Kayden got up and threw himself onto the upper hammock fixed to the walls. He moved around to get comfortable and into the right position, hands under his head. 

"So, I've heard that Stockholm syndrome was hard on you." Brett, a particularly annoying scout, mocked from behind his beard. 

"Nope. Still don't like y'all." You replied nonchalantly despite the urge to punch him through the bars. 

"I was talking about them." He pointed to the two cells containing the clones and you lifted a single eyebrow. 

"Tech, definition of Stockholm syndrome please." You asked, maintaining eye contact during the whole process. 

"Stockholm syndrome," You saw the genius perked up at your request. Sadly, he didn't lift a finger in the air while he recited the meaning of the word. "Is a psychological response wherein a captive begins to identify closely with his or her captors, as well as with their agenda and demands." He ended with a nod and the movement satisfied you enough to let the lack of a finger go.  

"That means you dumbass." You spat as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I'm with them willingly." 

"Get fucked!" Kayden shouted with a laugh that got half a smile out of you. 

"You? Our captive? It sure felt like the other way around." He finally switched to basic and the hate coating his words told you that he wasn't talking about the pranks and snarky attitude, no, he was talking about something bigger than that. 

"What are you talking about?" Maybe you could get more answers out of him than you did with Arlan. 

He scoffed. "Stop trying to play the idiot. Between the two of you, Kayden's the best at it." 

You ignored said idiot's thanks to press the matter. "Okay and let's imagine I really don't know what the hell you're talking about. What in the damn world did I do?" You remembered Arlan's word and almost added what is wrong with me? but Brett was already dropping the three medicine canisters to the ground, out of reach from either your cell or the clones' and went away. 

"You live." 

You sat on the ground, drained of every ounce of energy you once had. What was wrong with you? Why did everyone want you dead? The fear you felt at Arlan's words came back as you thought about what it could all mean. The Nightmares who stopped appearing when you left and came back when you did. Whatever the Core was that supposedly resided in you and the fact that the Lumsin knew what it was while you didn't. That the villagers never saw you as an annoying brat but a vile oppressor. 

You faintly heard Kayden talking with Tech about Back-up, but couldn't make out the exact words, your own thoughts being way too loud for you to clearly hear anything outside your head. 

"It's alright. Don't worry about it." An arm fell on your shoulders and pulled you into Kayden's side who now sat next to you on the ground, successfully pulling you out of your own mind. Yet, as comforting as his gesture was supposed to be, you only felt guiltier. Even when everyone else pointed their fingers at you, he was still there to keep yourself up even after you'd vanished on him. 

Kayden scratched the clothes over his heart again and cut off your incoming guilty declaration. 

"Question. If the half-skull one was to break my jaw or somethin' and that you didn't see it happen, would you believe me if I told you it was him?" Kayden asked, frowning too deeply for you to brush the question off as one of his stupid ones. 

"Wha-?" Then it dawned on you. "Did you threaten him?" You asked Hunter, voice raising in octaves. 

You knew Kayden probably deserved it, but he was your best friend. You've been helping each other for more than 15 years and there was no way you'd let him get beaten for a stupid jealousy tantrum. 

An invisible hand squeezed your heart as you felt Kayden relaxing against your side. He doubted that you'd listen to him. More importantly, he doubted that you'd trust his word over someone else's. Sure it was Hunter's word, but you knew the Sergeant was not in his right mind and not only because of the irrational feeling. 

"He wouldn't stop talking." The unbothered tone in which he answered shocked you. 

"Yet you've never threatened Tech." 

"That's not the same." Why must he sound like he truly believed that he did nothing wrong? 

"You may not value his life and health, but I do. A lot." You emphasized the last word so he got the message. "And his word is the only single one in the galaxy that I never ever doubted." 

Kayden's breath sharply filled his lungs and Hunter's fingers curled into fists. You still deeply loved the dark-haired Sergeant and seeing him frustrated at your words made a real number on your insides but that rational part of your brain told you that he would tire of you someday and would leave, whereas Kayden had shown countless of times that he'd be there to hold your hand, push your back and pull you up whenever needed. 

"Good to know." 

Why did his acknowledgment of your words make you sick? You'd said those words yourself and they were true, so how could they hurt that much? If it wasn't of the half-circles traced on the back of your right hand, you certainly would have had a physical reaction. It could have been hiding in your hammock or tears leaking from your eyes, you didn't know. 

"You don't trust us?" Wrecker's hurt translated in his low, nearly inaudible tone if it wasn't of the earbud deeply pushed into your ear canal. 

"I do Wrecker. I really do. It's me that I don't." Damn. For someone who wanted to avoid feelings-talks like the plague, you found yourself right in the middle of the deepest one ever. 

"I don't understand." He admitted. 

"I-" You sighed, trying to find the words that would explain something you didn't know how to explain. "I don't myself Wrecker. I make people despise me and-" The words escaped you. Out of exasperation, your free hand moved up to rub your closed eyelids and drag the pads of your fingers down your cheeks. 

"When they don't you persuade yourself they do and you tell yourself that they'll give you up so you start to doubt them even when there's nothing to worry about." Kayden shrugged at your wide eyes looking at him. "Don't be surprised I know you better than yourself. You did the same shit with me but I didn't let you." 

"Then why did you doubt yourself against Hunter?" 

" 'cuz you love him." He answered in your native tongue and you were grateful for it. You weren't ready to say the words out loud and if Kayden, the person who just demonstrated that he knew you like the palm of his hand, said those words himself, then he'd throw your feelings out in the open and you couldn't have that. Not when your brain still expected the Bad Batch to get back to their ship and leave you on Fors, where you belonged. 

"You were there longer."

"Yeah, but that was because you couldn't escape me. Give them their chance. You might be surprised." He patted your shoulder like an old man who gave advice to a youngster. 

"We wouldn't give you up. You're our friend!" Wrecker added once the conversation in a foreign language died. 

"If you still doubt our friendship, then you might want to remember that we passed hundreds of hours training you to be our pilot and that we lied to our superiors to keep you." Tech pointed out, this time with the finger in the air. It brought the tiniest of smiles to your lips. 

"Or remember the moments shared." Hunter surprised you with his quiet words that Kayden definitely couldn't hear without a comm device. Had he realized that he was fighting a non-existent enemy? Or did he feel as bad as you following your exchange?

"Or you can remember that you're a freak." Tech slapped his lean brother's shoulder 

"So I belong with you guys? Yeah, I'll- I'll do my best to remember all that." A chuckle escaped your lips. "Thanks." You added under your breath, to which the boys nodded and Wrecker smiled brightly. 

"Is your chest okay?" Tech asked and pointed at Kayden who was still scratching his torso. 

"Yeah, 's just itchy. I think Kerth put some poison Ivy in my clothes. I wouldn't be surprised." He pulled his shirt forward to look at his skin. He winced. "That does look like it." 

"You never get tired of looking at yourself?" A soft feminine voice chuckled from down the hallway. 

Soft brown eyes shone behind fiery red locks, their owner walking straight to your cell where she stopped to pass you a hot container. You'd recognize that smell everywhere and apparently so did your stomach who growled loudly in anticipation of receiving some soup. 

"Good timing, I see." She chuckled, put her pack on the ground and offered you a container. "It's not poisoned, I promise. I did it myself." She assured in basic when you kept watching her hands without making any move towards the food. 

Still unmoving, Kayden took it upon himself to grab two containers and let the redhead give the clones their servings. 

"They wanted me to only feed the soldiers but I slipped some for you two as well. For all the spare crusts." She nodded at you, who kept watching her in silence. Before turning around to go back to where she came from, the woman had the kindness to grab the discarded medicine canisters and offer them to Kayden. "Take care." 

Wait. You had to tell her. It was like your brain forgot how everything worked. Opening your mouth wasn't hard compared to finding what to say. Even then your throat constricted in an attempt to shut you up, but you couldn't let her go without telling her. 

She deserved to know. 

"Fleena." Was all you managed and it was enough to stop her in her tracks. When she turned, your hand was already fishing around in your pocket for the small piece of wood. 

She came back as you brought your closed fist forward and dropped the dirty necklace on her open hand. 

She stared at it, surprise taking over her soft features in a flash as soon as she recognized the symbol. She turned it to inspect the back and now was the right time for the earth to open beneath your ass and take you away. 

"Where did you get that?" The tremors in her voice send a knife through your heart. 

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you made sure to choose your words better than with Hunter. "Nixon was a Wanderer."

"He-" She started with hope until she registered your sentence. "Was?" 

There it was. The moment to own what you did finally arrived. 

"What did you do?" She pressed as you kept silent, unable to say it out loud. 

"It wasn't him anymore, Fleena. He hadn't grown up and kept walking in circles on his bleeding feet. He was tormented." 

You freed him. You helped him. Now that her horrified hazel eyes bore into yours, Crosshair's words that were so helpful before held no sense. 

"He was still my brother." She clutched the necklace to her chest, tears running down her cheeks. 

"Nixon was gone." 

"I don't expect you to understand. You don't know anything about having a sibling." 

The silence following her retreating steps was even heavier than before. No. That wasn't true. The boys spoke in the background and in your ear, prompting you to remove the device to have some peace. 

"You're right, I don't." You grumbled in your knees that were now up to your face to hide your features, your arms tightly wrapped around them to keep them close. 

"That's the biggest bullshit that ever came out of your mouth." Kayden scoffed next to you. "What do you think I am then? Your friend?" He puffed like it was the stupidest joke he'd ever been told. "Fuck no. We've been family ever since your dad died so cut the crap or I'll hit you." 

I should be punching you for saying such stupid stuff. 

"For real. I'll hit you so hard you won't ignore me again." He shuffled around to better position himself, arm lifting-

"I've abandoned you." You spat more at you than at him. 

"Siblings sucks but we love them anyway." He shrugged. "You're no exception." 

Tears gathered in your eyes. Even after leaving him alone to fight for himself, Kayden still loved you as much as before and never once held a grudge against your actions. He was a true god-given gift and you'd treated him unfairly. 

Pain exploded into your shoulder and you found yourself colliding with the ground. 

"The fuck?" Four spots on your shoulder hurt so deeply that it didn't take long for you to realize that he'd hit you with his knuckles. 

"My monthly quota was not yet achieved." He smirked, watching you massage the beaten skin. 

"Don't you think I'm hurt enough already?" 

"Stop whining, we have Biogel." He shook the metallic container before your face. 

"That thing hurts like hell." You groaned, pushing his hand away to sit straight. 

"When did you become such a baby?" You shot him the deadliest glare you had in reserve. "Hey. It's a very small price to pay for completely healed wounds in under 30 minutes." 

"Completely healed?" Tech inquired, eying the matching container in his hands that Kayden pushed him. 

"Yeah! One good layer and bye-bye! Works for sprained stuff too, just takes a little longer." Kayden answered as he helped you apply the cold sticky gel onto your arms. "Little tips: let someone else put it on you." He added as you hissed and groaned under the burning feeling that came with the product. 

Your hands closed and opened repeatedly to keep from hitting Kayden in retaliation for the pain he was putting you through. The raging fire led to intense stinging that you could describe as white-hot needles poking your damaged skin. 

"Please remember that you love me." Kayden said right before he dropped a huge blob of Biogel onto the hole in your leg. Had he not jumped away, your elbow would have connected with his chest at high speed. Instead, all that got injured were your nerves, your vocal cords and Hunter's head. 

"I'll murder you if you do that again." You whimpered while clutching your upper thigh in hope of cutting every pain transmission from your leg to your brain. 

"Good thing it was the last one!" He laughed from his side of the cell, Biogel discarded to the profit of the warm bowl of soup which he was already drinking like he'd been starved for a week. 

Wrecker's gasp and groans filled the air. A quick glance his way showed Hunter applying a coat of the translucent substance on his burnt hands and neck as well as on the cuts on his arms. Then came Hunter's turn who covered some scratches from the Yappians and after some thought applied some of it on the side of his forehead. No sound escaped his throat, the only proof of the pain assaulting his nerves being the scrunching of his face, unlike Tech who yelped when Crosshair carelessly applied the gel on his wrist and arms. Then, like pain didn't affect him at all, he splattered some on his swollen ankle and it was done. 

"I'm sure no one really wants to eat right now, but it'd be good to eat the food until Back-up comes back and we have to leave." Kayden reminded. 

"What's that?" Crosshair asked, more worried about the soup than Wrecker was. The tank was already slurping the soup down, mindful of his sensible fingers. 

"In basic I guess it translates as bone soup." Wrecker stopped abruptly, mouth still scotched to the bowl. He eyed you in distress, pondering if it was safe to swallow or not. "It's good, despite the name. Hunters usually eat that before a hunt to boost their systems, right Y/N?" Just for the sake of the game, you nodded. It was true anyway. 

"And eh… what's in it?" Tech moved the container in small circles to try and identify what was floating in the light yellow liquid. 

"Roots, meats, some veggies, guts and ground bones." You kept your poker face as Kayden enumerated the 'ingredients' and Wrecker lost all colors. "Where do you think the name comes from?" 

Wrecker spat his enormous gulp and you laughed to the point of tears, soon joined by your best frie- brother. 

"He's just fucking with y'all, Wreck. It's called bone soup because there's bone marrow in it to help with our joints. And there’s no guts. We're no savages." You did your best to control your laugh before digging into your soup eagerly. How Kayden always managed to get your mood up was a total mystery, but it always worked and you were grateful for it. 

"Could've fooled me." Crosshair taunted. 

"Ya can choke on it." You said at the same time Kayden did, getting a laugh out of it. 

The delicious soup filled your stomach in less than 10 gulps and it wasn't until you put your bowl down that you realized how good it made you feel to fill that emptiness in you. The soup wasn't enough to make you sleepy after a nice meal and provided just enough nutrients for everyone to be able to face the fast-approaching escape without a problem. Mixed with the Biogel, you were back at the top of your games. 

Arlan really made an error in taking care of the group. 

"What now? What's your plan?" Hunter wondered, posing his container on the ground. 

You met gaze with Kayden and he nodded confidently. "How well can you all swim in your armors?" 

"In calm water, we are fine but slow. We can't go in strong water. The current will catch in the plastoid and will drag us down." 

A hum resonated from within your throat and you pucker your lips. "You can't give them up. That scratch out the underground well and the waterfall." You taped your lips in thought. Watching Tech who still drank with only one hand, you knew that hiking wasn't an option as well. For now at least. 

"Then it's the dark pit." Kayden pointed out. 

It indeed was the last possible option. The other remaining one would be to use the front gates and it was the least possible one. 

"Yeah. The other tunnels would take too long to get out and then we'd lose too much time walking back at the Old Man's cave." You recalled from your mental map of the jungle. "I'm fairly sure we have two hours until dawn. The Old Man's Cave is 15 minutes away from here if we run." 

"Then we run." Hunter agreed. 

"Now, to get out… Hey, big guy." Kayden called. "What's the name?" 

"Wrecker." He answered proudly, almost puffing his chest out. 

Kayden scoffed. "Obviously. Should'a figured." He turned to you. "Is it too late to change my name?" 

The moron was too far for a shoulder slap, so you showed your exasperation with a roll of your eyes. "Stop screwing around and tell us your idea." 

"Yeah yeah." The childish tone wasn't surprising on his part. He turned his attention back to the tall clone. "So, Wrecker, I bet you're experienced with big shafts so how good are you with pulse-hammers?" In a flash, you threw your empty container at his head with utmost precision that you knew Crosshair would be proud. The flying object was as unexpected for him as the inappropriate sentence was for you and hit him square on the forehead. 

"I'll strangle you." You threatened. 

"Kinky." He winked while nursing his forehead. 

"With what?" Wrecker inquired, too focussed on the unknown term to pick up at the dirty joke.

"Her han-"

"Not that, morron." You cut him off. "The big hammer that exploded that tree back at the pit." You clarified for Wrecker. 

"Oh! I've never used one before, but I'm sure it can't be that hard!" Excitement glimmered in his eyes at the perspective of using the powerful weapon. 

"Oh believe me it's hard." Kayden smirked way too smugly for your taste. 

"Okay. Time out. Planning is paused." You poked the palm of your hand with the fingertips of your other hand. "I call pervert veto card." You deadpanned. 

"Oh hell no you can't!" Was there panic in his voice? Yes. Definitely. 

"Oh heck yes I can! Once a year for 24 hours and I'm using it now." Thank the gods you'd not used it before. 

"But-!" 

"No but or butts. No sexual reference in any form, implied or not. 24 hours starting now." He glared at you from his spot two meters away. You could have laughed at his face that perfectly mirrored a kid who just got his Christmas gift stolen directly from its small weak hands. 

"You're fucking me in the ass." He grumbled like an overgrown petulant child.

You lifted an eyebrow. "Try again. You can do it."

"Party pooper." 

"There you go." As you turned to the rest of them, a laugh escaped your lips at the clones’ expressions. 

Crosshair, despite his feelings blockade, was covering his mouth, Wrecker was laughing his ass off, Tech looked relieved behind his horrified eyes and Hunter chuckled. He appeared to be pleased and somewhat totally used to the situation, which grabbed your curiosity. 

Later. You forced a cough to get everyone's attention. "Let's continue. To answer your question, Wrecker, handling a pulse-hammer is not hard. Only remember to not touch the head," You had to stop to point at Kayden in a threatening manner when you sensed a perverted comment about to escape his idiotic mouth despite the veto card being used. "And hit with the glowing side. If you hit with the other side, you'll damage the hammer and it'll be useless." 

"I can do that!" Wrecker enthusiastically nodded. 

"So we plan into exploding our way out of here? What do we do about Cross?" Tech pointed out what he thought was a flaw in your plan. 

Right at this moment, Back-Up appeared before Kayden, its fluffy leaves puffing out in pride as Kayden removed the Master key from its belly pouch. What a marvelous creature they were. Being able to fit your own size in an extensible pouch that covered your body from your collarbone to your pelvis was truly amazing and more than practical. 

"We'll split. Kayden will guide you guys to the emergency tunnel and I'll go get Cross. I'll meet you all as soon as I can." 

You nearly hadn't finished that Hunter inevitably rejected your plan. "No. We stay together."

"We can't. You guys will be the decoy I need to sneak around and find him and having one of you with me will catch attention and slow me down." You cut Hunter as he still looked like he was about to be opposed. "I still have my comms and earbud. I'll contact you every 5 minutes." You offered in an attempt to compromise. 

Silence stretched and you got up, already ready to depart. The tingling in your arms and leg had subsided some time ago and to your sweet surprise, applying weight on your leg didn't hurt as much as before. 

Kayden unlocked the cells and a hand softly grabbed your forearm. "Fine. You comm every 5 minutes and you take this." He moved to Tech to rummage through his belt and hand you a pistol. "Use it if needed." 

You took the pistol with a steady grip despite the uncertainty shaking your guts. It was the very first blaster you've ever had in your hand and it was heavier than you thought. "Don't worry. I will." You assured him, voice strong and unwavering. 

But… could you really?

[thedarklingxalina]

A Darklina fic I'm playing about with but not committing to yet. This would be the first chapter. I need to finish Dark Guardian first but this idea wouldn't leave me alone.

Eclipse

Summary: Alina is an investigative journalist, investigating the death of her childhood friend, Mal.

Alina is reunited with her other childhood friend, Aleksander - known to the world as Kirigan, a famous actor and grisha rights activist. All too quickly though, Alina begins to discover Aleksander is hiding a dark secret.

Modern Grisha AU. Everyone has their powers. Mentions of suicide. Mild torture.

Saints, give me strength. 

Alina stared at the rusty mesh gates through the rain speckled windscreen. A barrage of warning signs prohibiting entrance were pinned across the fencing. Keep out. Danger. Risk to life. On one fence was a display of withered flowers entwined around the metal, with hand-made laminated pleads to stay away, to remember that someone out there loves you. 

It was a somber sight. Careful reminders of the danger that lurked behind that run-down gate, past the abandoned warehouses, looming at the end of decrepit wooden bridges. Even from here Alina could see the mass of swirling shadows, an endless stretch of darkness that tore Ravka in two.

And here she was armed with wire cutters, ready to break in. Foolish, reckless, stupid. Exactly what she had been told not to do. 

This is for Mal, she reminded herself.  

Alina took in a deep breath and left the warmth and safety of her car. She put on her medical face mask, slipped on a pair of disposable gloves and tucked her camera inside her satchel. 

She didn't plan on staying here long, but seeing as research into the side effects of prolonged exposure to the Fold was ongoing, she decided to err on the side of caution. 

Gravel crunched under her boots as she approached the fence, making her way to a part hidden by the treeline. There she cut a reasonable size hole for herself to squeeze through. 

So far, getting into the site was easy. Too easy really, considering the dangers of this place.

Abandoned heavy equipment littered the rubble ridden grounds. Metallic, battle-worn Skiffs (centuries ago once manned by Squallers before new technological advancements replaced them) laid in ruins around the site; rust-encrusted, dented and torn up. The warehouses were dilapidated, weathered down and overgrown with weeds. 

And that wasn't even mentioning the bridges that crossed the ten foot moat, giving unhindered access to the Unsea and the monsters within. 

This place was a death trap. 

"Why in the Saints name did you come back here, Mal?" Alina asked. 

He had loathed this place. Everyone in Os Atla had. There had been vocal opposition from the public for decades, demanding the site be shut down. The residents of the city uncomfortable with an access point to the Fold being right on their doorstep. 

This skiffyard's infamous reputation for being the most dangerous, certainly hadn't endeared it to people, no matter the flow of trade it provided. It had the highest fatality and injury rate of an skiffyard. Budget cuts producing poorly made Skiffs that broke down frequently and were east pickings for Volcra. Breaching person capacity on each trip to increase profit. Bribing of safety inspectors. Understaffed. Overworking their employees to exhaustion. 

The place had been a nightmare. The stories Mal had told Alina about it over the years still made her recoil. 

The final nail in the coffin for Skiffyard 13 had been when three urban explorers had snuck into the docks, using it to bypass the the forest and ten foot moat separating the Fold from the city - deterrents erected over a century prior, to keep the public safe. The three individuals, the youngest only fourteen years old, had never came out again. 

The dock had been shut down. Workers like Mal had been relocated to other docks outside the city.

Yet despite this, the site had never been dismantled. It was too expensive, was the frequent excuse. The go to excuse for all failures in protecting the general public from the dangers of the Unsea. 

Now, it was the easiest access point to the Fold. No workers to sneak past, no checkpoints, and no maintenance to the gates and various deterrents. There wasn't even video surveillance or electrical fencing, as electronics were unreliable this close the Fold. And much to the people of Os Atla's grief, no armed patrols or guards dogs to keep trespassers like her out.  

Oh, the mayor promised they would upgrade the security on access points to the Fold regularly. But those promises seemed to be forgotten after the elections had passed. Funny that. 

As Alina scanned the deserted skiffyard, the Fold a short walk away, she realized the bitter irony of it all.

It didn't take long for Alina to find the place she was looking. Dock Six. The last place Mal had last been seen alive. 

Alina took a shuddering breath, her grip on her satchel tightening. she closed her eyes, feeling the sting of tears at her eyes.

Another life lost to the Fold, the news reporter had said. A tragic suicide, the police had decided, he left a farewell note on the dock.

A farewell note that doesn't mention me? His childhood best friend. That doesn't mention his girlfriend Lucy who he had planned to propose to on her birthday? 

But Alina's protests had fallen on deaf ears. She was nothing but a grieving girl in denial to them. Even Lucy had tried to discourage her, wanting her to accept-

No. Alina wouldn't hear it. Mal didn't take his own life. He hadn't. He wouldn't. Alina had spoken to him days before. There had been something he had wanted to tell her, something he hadn't felt safe discussing over phone or email. A story, he had said, that people need to know. Then that phone call the night he vanished. That desperate, breathless voice pleading with her through a breaking line. 

Alina... don't... Atla... away- 

Mal? Mal, is that you? I can't hear you, the line is terrible. Where are you? 

Distant shouting, five loud bangs, more static.

Mal? Mal!

Stay away... sorry... sorry...

Something had happened to Mal that night. Something awful that the police were refusing to look into. Alina was sure of it. And come hell or high water, she was going to find out what. She owed it to Mal, to Lucy, to herself. 

Alina scouted the area, alighting her hand with a soft glow to light her way.

It took a while, but the Saints finally took pity on her and Alina found something. Something that she suspected to be the source of the bangs in that final phone call. Gouged into a floorboard of the dock, into a post, and a concrete wall. 

Bullet holes.

They weren't old. The moss overgrowing the post and floorboards having been blasted off with the impact, yet to have grown back. 

Alina snapped some photos. 

After an hour prowling around each bullet hole site, sometimes on hands and knees, getting caked in dust and mud, Alina was ready to give up when an idea sprung to mind. She summoned her light, shining it across the ground until something silver glinted back. 

A bullet, hidden among the overgrown weeds. Alina took more photos before putting the bullet in a labeled ziplock bag. 

Suicide in deed, Alina mused bitterly. Had the police even bothered to check the scene? 

"I'll find out what happened to you, Mal. I swear it."

Alina rose to her feet, dusting her trousers.

Mal had come here for a reason, and whatever it was, someone had killed him for it. But what could be here that was worth killing over? 

There was only one warehouse stable enough to enter. Warehouse three. Alina didn't bother to pick the lock, just melted it off its hinges then crept in. 

The warehouse was massive and surprisingly well maintained. Everything was clean. There was no debris. Creates and boxes were stacked high and neatly.

Alina frowned, extinguishing her light in favor of using a battery powered torch.

If there were people here, she didn't need them knowing she was Grisha. That element of surprise could be the difference that mattered. Besides, there were too many out there that despised her kind; having people know you were Grisha was like walking around with a bullseye on your back. 

Alina crept behind a row of shelves, occasionally taking photos. She stopped at an easy to reach pile of boxes and pulled back the lids. 

Oxygen canisters, boxes of personal protective equipment, bullets (but not the same as the one that she found outside; these were longer and bigger, meant for something... larger.) 

This is all essential items for crossings, Alina realised. And it's all new. 

Someone had to making illegal crossings across the Fold, using these docks as their access point. 

Alina closed the lid, a dreadful unease settling over her. 

What are they taking across the Fold that requires all the secrecy? 

Maybe the answer was in another crate. Alina moved to open another- 

A sharp tug on her heart stilled her, making her choke for air. Alina fell to her knees, the energy in her body bleeding from her.

As darkness consumed her, one though flickered through her mind. 

Saints above, she hated Heartrenders.

☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑

Alina was no stranger to danger. Her investigative journalism had gotten her into many a difficult situation. But nothing ever quite this bad. 

When Alina had awoken, it was to find herself tied to a chair, her hands separated and bound to a steel bar (rendering her powers useless). She was blind folded; inconvenient and certainly unnerving, but it gave her some hope. Whoever had assaulted her, cared if she saw their faces. If they were going to kill her a blindfold wasn't necessary.

"Who are you?" A man asked. Middle aged by the deep roughness. Ravkan by the accent. A grumpy git, by the tone. 

Not the person you're looking for, Alina wants to snark, but thinks better of it. They might not be fans of Star Wars references and honestly, she is too exhausted to try and be smart. Besides, snarky quips and teasing here would only charm her way into a pair of cement boots and a dip in the river. Or the Unsea. 

Alina tried not to shiver. 

"I said who are you?" Grumpy demands. 

"Alina Starkov. Investigative Journalist for the Ketterdam Express News."

There's no point lying. They probably already know who she is with a quick internet search. Lying will only make them mad. 

"What's a small-time news journalist doing in Os Atla?"

Alina twitches at his comment. 

This time the man who speaks is younger. He has a scratchy voice and bratty attitude that made Alina want to kick him in the shin. 

"I'm looking for a friend of mine. Nothing more. He went missing three months ago and was last spotted working at the docks you snatched me from." 

Wouldn't happen to have seen him, would you? Put a bullet through his head perhaps? 

"Name?" Grumpy asks.

"Mal Oretsev."

"Never heard of him. Seems you've wasted your time, Nancy Drew," Bratty said. 

I doubt that, Alina mused bitterly. She had clearly stumbled onto something if they were willing to kidnap and interrogate her. 

"That's a shame," Alina said with exaggerated glumness. "Well, if you could just untie me I can head off. Wouldn't want to keep you guys later than need be."

Grumpy snorted. Bratty let out a nasty chuckle (Alina would wager a week on gossip column duty, that Bratty had a very punchable face).

"We can't have snoopy reporters buzzing around here," Bratty says.

Don't panic, Alina tells herself. Don't-

Alina hears the rustle of fabric, then the dreaded sound of a gun's safety clicking off. 

-starting to panic.

"And you think a dead one will prevent that?" Alina swallowed down the hysteria threatening to overwhelm her, but there was still a frantic edge to her voice. "There are people who know where I am and know to call the police if I don't make it back soon. Within an hour this place will be swarming!" 

"She's bluffing." 

"You think I'm stupid enough not to have a back up plan in case something like this happened?" 

If she said it strongly enough, maybe even she would believe it. Because really, a smart journalist would have done that. 

"You were stupid enough to get caught."

Prick.

"You have a heartrender, that's cheat-" 

Someone slapped her, Bratty she would bet. Alina cries out as pain flares hot on her cheek.

That'll leave a bruise, Alina muses bitterly.

"That's enough," Grumpy snapped, his footsteps loud as he got closer. "Tell us, what information do you have on Project Likhoradka?"

Alina frowned. The name rung a bell, but it was too distant to make out. Likhoradka... why would they think she had any information on it? Was it because she had mentioned Mal? Did it have something to do with the illegal Fold crossings? 

"I don't know anything about-" 

Someone slapped her again, worse than before. Where his hand had connected, her skin burned and ached.

Bastard, bastard, bastard, Alina thinks, gritting her teeth.

"I don't know anything! One of you is a heartrender, you know I'm telling the truth!" Alina snarled. 

Alina strained against the bonds on her wrist, tied behind her back. If only she could melt through them. She could distract them with a flash of blinding light, turn invisible, then flee into the night. Had they known she was Grisha and that was why they bound her this way? Or was it just a precaution?

A phone buzzed, cutting the interrogation short. A moment later, Grumpy spoke again. "The boss is here."

Alina heard the whirling grate of the warehouses large doors lifting. A brief wind tickled her face. Then a new set of footsteps, slow and precise, made their way closer. 

Damn it. How many of them where their now? Three inside, but could more be waiting outside? More heartrenders or maybe other Grisha? Infernis, Squallers, more heartrenders?

Alina swallowed hard, sniffing back the tears welling behind her eyes. Hope of making it out of this alive was dimming like a setting sun. 

"And what is this?" A voice asked. He had a pleasing voice; gentle, smooth, young, yet firm. The boss, she'd guess. Boss of what though?

"Nosey reporter from Kansas-"

"Ketterdam, I'm not Dorothy," Alina muttered. But Bratty would certainly make a perfect Scarescrow; no brains and all.

Bratty smacked her again; this time across the head, more chiding than malicious. Speak when spoken to, the message was clear. 

"Does she know anything?" The leader asked. 

"Don't know yet. But she said she's friends with Oretsev." So much for not knowing him. "We figure she has to know something about-"

Bratty stops talking. Footsteps come closer and Alina holds her breath as someone takes a delicate hold of her chin. She gets the impression they are studying her features intently. Long fingers brush aside the hair from her face, lightly tracing the scar on her forehead. 

A scar she had gotten when she was a child, when a group of bullies found out she was different from them. Witch, demon, freak... stones flying through the air... frightened shrieks and tears... and a little boy with onyx eyes, arms out stretched, shielding her from it all... 

The man inhales sharply. 

The heartrender knocked her out again. 

[fangirlincorporated-blog]

The Lucky Australian

~~ 7 Almost~~

I wouldn't know where to start

"Sweet Music" playing "In The Dark"

Be still "My Foolish Heart, "

Don't ruin this on me

It had been a few days, and even though he had tried to keep himself busy, she was always floating around his mind.

It didn’t help him that whenever his phone would buzz he was always hoping it was from her, he’d been disappointed to notice that she hadn’t messaged him as much as he had hoped. There had been a few selfies and an occasional funny text through, he knew she was seeing a few friends and doing all the touristy stuff, but he had still wanted all more attention form her.

Henry couldn’t work it out, was she apprehensive to contact him more? Was she trying to play it cool? Logically, he knew that she was just enjoying her time in London, and he had no right to demand all her time, but still…he had just wanted her.

He had spent his day gaming, broken up by hanging out with kal when Charlie called, with nothing better to do and not hearing from Aurora for a few hours, he found himself at the pub. The warm summer air lifting his mood as he and his brother downed a few pints and surveyed their surroundings.

“You looking for anyone in particular?” Charlie whispered.

Henry sighed and put down his beer

“No. Not really”

Silence filled the space between them.

“Henry, what’s wrong?” Charlie sighed

Henry shifted in his seat, unsure of how to explain to his brother that he missed a woman that he had only known for days. How he wanted to be greedy with her time but not smother her, how he wished that every time his phone buzzed he was hoping it was her. How, he wanted to know every part of her mind, body and soul. He wanted her completely, but what if it was only lust on his part? What if it was only just a fire and no slow burn…The many what if’s were enough to drive him crazy.

“How did you know Heather was the one?” Henry asked, the question even surprising himself.

Charlie let out a breath and twirled his glass in his hand.

“I don’t know how to answer that one Henry. I guess for me, it was just an instant click, my head and my heart were in perfect unison at the time, I had that little voice that just told me this was it” he shrugged.

“You moved your whole life to Canada, weren’t you scared?”

“I was terrified, but the overwhelming feeling I had was that when I was with her there was no place I’d rather be, and that I’d be ok, no matter what happens”

Henry looked down at his glass.

“Is this about a certain Australian you met a few days ago?”

Henry looked up at Charlie and nodded, his insecurity and worry must’ve been plastered all over his face as Charlie’s features softened in response.

“It’s just…I only spent a few hours alone with her after we were at the pub, and the next day and no, we didn’t have sex Charlie”

“I wasn’t asking”

“You were thinking it”

“Thought never crossed my mind. Continue…”

Sometimes Charlie really knew how to get under his skin and piss him off, Henry couldn’t blame him, having siblings meant never being able to get away with anything.

“I had a really great time with her, it just felt like everything fell into place. She said she would call me in a few days because she was meeting up with friends and sightseeing, and I’m a rational man, I get that Charlie, I do. Its just…I want all her time, I want to be with her, I want to talk to her, I want to message her all the time, I want to know her, I want to be in the same space as her. I know I shouldn’t be demanding of all her attention, but every time the damn phone buzzes I hope its her, and I cant fathom for the life of me why she isn’t messaging me all the time or talking to me”

Charlie hadn’t stopped looking at Henry. Henry continued.

“I know, like I fucking know that she’s just with friends, but the other part of me keeps questioning, why isn’t she calling me? Is it too much, too fast for her? Is she not as interested as I thought she was? What if me being me is too much for her? What if its just lust? What if she’s not over her ex?”

“Her ex?”

Henry sighed and rubbed his eyes

“They were together up until 3 years ago, whatever happened she still has nightmares about”

“Whoa Henry, what-“

“Charlie, I don’t know. Aurora said it was a great relationship and it ended. I only found out after she told me because her friends imessages were popping up on her ipad, she said she would tell me later”

Charlie stretched his arms out in front of him.

“That’s a bit of a red flag”

“Yeah, but I cant force anything out of her” Henry growled in frustration.

Charlie didn’t miss the anger, he didn’t miss the hurt or the confusion that draped itself over Henry. Picking his words carefully, he continued.

“Henry, from what you have said already, I think you really like this girl, hell, you might even love her at this point and you don’t know. You have never spoken about any other women you’ve dated or seen, like you have Aurora and you’ve only known her a few days. I think, this is something worth trying for. I think she might be it for you, but you’ve only just net her, you cant demand everything now, no matter how hard you want it. That’s the thing with love and all that shit. It’s irrational, its intense and it doesn’t make sense. Be open, communicate and be honest, that’s all you can do. You will both navigate anything else that comes your way.”

Henry looked up at Charlie, he always had this way of being right about everything. Maybe he was right, maybe all those feelings he was having were a precursor to something deeper that he cant explain, maybe his heart knows before the path is laid out.

“Henry, why don’t you message her and ask her to meet you? Even if she’s already busy with friends, she would make time for you”

He looked at Charlie and back at his beer, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and just stared at it.

He heard Charlie sigh.

“I’ll get more drinks while your compose your sonnet” He laughed, making his way to the bar.

Henry ran a hand over his face and started typing out a message.

~~~~~~~~

“So, its 3pm, I’m going to start getting ready. We’re meeting at her place for pre drinks, then onwards to this gay bar she said I would like” Raphi said as he looked over at Aurora

“Does that mean its time for my boots Raphi?”

“Bitch, its always time for them boots. First though, I’m using the shower.” Raphi grabbed a towel and moved to the bathroom.

The past few days she had been shopping with Nate and his husband, she had travelled up to leeds to see an old friend and then went all the way down to bath to see an old work colleague. Never mind in between all that, partying with Raphi and Hanhan. She was glad for the few days she would have alone in Italy coming up. Even then, she would be visiting family. Holidays are supposed to be relaxing, she thought to herself.

She picked up her phone, wondering if she should message Henry. She had spoken to him on and off, but didn’t want to bombard him with unwanted messages, especially if he had changed his mind. He had still seemed interested but she didn’t want to push it, not to mention she had been seeing friends, which was a welcome excuse to try and get her mind off a certain brown haired, blue eyed Adonis. Dating was a lot much harder than she remembered

Suddenly, her phone buzzed in her hand, her face lighting up seeing is name on her screen.

Hey, this seems incredibly stupid, but…I really enjoyed my time with you. Wondering if you’re free tonight? Maybe we could catch up?

She started her reply, yelling questions through the bathroom door to Raphi. As she was halfway through, another message popped up.

I miss your company.

Her heart melted a little.

I’ll come meet you for a drink, I wont be able to spend as much time as I want with you, I’m being dragged to a club. I miss your company too.

Short and to the point. Mere seconds later, Henry replied.

Same pub we met at? What time?

She smiled, replying as fast as possible before throwing down her phone and getting her boots on.

~~~~~~~~

Charlie watched Henry as he continued to throw glances towards the pub door.

It had been 3 hours since Aurora said she would meet him. As it neared 6pm, Henry started getting nervous, bouncing his leg up and down under the table, not focusing on conversations and forever checking his watch. Charlie smiled into his beer as he took another sip. He remembered those butterflies and those nerves.

Charlie was able to distract Henry for a few minutes when something caught his eye, he looked up and the first thing he saw were boots, followed by Aurora, he snuck a glance back to Henry who hadn’t noticed her yet. Charlie looked back at Aurora as her eyes found them in the pub, she smiled and made her way over to them as Charlie kicked Henry under the table. He looked up, startled and then looked to where Charlie was pointing. Charlie knew the moment Henry laid eyes on Aurora, he was in trouble.

Henry’s mouth fell open as she came toward him. She was wearing all black jeans with a black top, her outfit simply hugging every curve of her body, but the standout feature was the thigh high boots she was wearing.

They were covered in silver rhinestones. This woman knew how to make an entrance.

Henry was still stuck to his chair when she walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Sliding into the spot next to him he didn’t notice her friends following her and seating themselves at the table.

Henry was silent, just staring at her. All the sounds around him evaporating as he took all of her in.

“I’ll shout you guys a round before we have to go.” She laughed. Henry looked at her and was silent for a moment just staring at her until Charlie broke his silence when he spoke to her. Suddenly, the world came crashing back into Henry, the sounds of the pub, the warmth of Aurora next to him and the smell of the perfume she wore invading all his senses.

She laughed at something Raphi said. Henry looked at her, his hands itching to touch her in some way. Slowly, pretending to be interested in a ring she wore, he reached out for her hand, and just held it, not wanting to let go.

Charlie observed them while the rest of the group entertained themselves. Aurora, talking and joking with her friends, for the most part didn’t seemed fazed at all by Henry's need for closeness. It almost came natural to her that she expected Henry wanted to that contact. Everything about her demeanour and her body language seemed so relaxed, like this relationship had existed for years rather than days. Henry on the other hand, seemed hyper aware of every movement and touch of Aurora’s, his nervousness and almost giddy appearance that he was in the same space with as well as the physical contact of the woman he was infatuated with, betrayed his usual tough looking exterior. Basically, he became a big teddy bear.

After what only seemed like a few minutes to Henry, Aurora and her friends announced their departure. Their excitement and slight buzz from the few shots they downed evident on their faces as they got up to leave, ready for the night ahead. Noting it was only 8pm, Henry felt cheated those 2 hours had flown by, and became a little depressed at the thought of her leaving.

Aurora looked Henry.

“If I survive tonight, I promise I will call you tomorrow and we’ll go on a proper date!” she smiled

“Bitch, what do you mean if you survive tonight? You’re getting as fucked up as us!” Hanhan laughed at her.

“Listen I’m going to be the most sober one there, god knows this one wont bend over the toilet bowl to throw up” She pointed at Raphi with her voice taking on a slight Italian accent, hands moving with every word.

“There we go, there’s the Italian!” Raphi yelled over his shoulder, making his way out of the pub. Aurora laughed.

“I better be getting chicken nuggets at the end of this night is all I’m saying” Aurora leaned down to kiss Henry goodbye like it was the most normal thing in the world and walked out of the pub following Hanhan and Raphi.

Charlie looked over at Henry watching her go. He knew, in that moment, that Henry would be spending the rest of his life with Aurora.

[romantic-barnes]

strawberry & tape | part six

| part six - take a shot, cherry schnapps |

Pairings: dark!biker!bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes has the town in his hands and a lot of blood. All you have is a cafe your mother left you after her passing. But as Bucky’s attention moves to you, do you have the strength to pay revenge for his wrongdoings? Does your push into the dark paradise end in love or blood?

Warnings: mention of suicide, possessiveness, violence This is dark bucky! please don’t read if you are uncomfortable with any of the topics mentioned above!  

A/N: I know this is a little short but believe me it’s worth it. The next part will be the last and I cannot wait to show you how it ends! Please don’t read if you are under 18! 

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers​

'Cause if we don't leave this town We might never make it out I was not born to drown Baby come on 

It was early when you woke. Eyes opening heavily, focused on the window. You sensed the emptiness beside you, but fear still struck, soaring through your veins. You rolled onto your back, head slowly turning to find Bucky gone from beside you. But you knew he was just there mere minutes ago, his perfume lingering on the sheets, swirling in the air. 

You dressed yourself, washed your face and walked out of the room. The dining room looked like a distant nightmare to you, but this time the chairs were empty; except for one: Bucky’s. He sat with his arm resting on the table, shovelling food into his mouth. The floor beneath you creaked as you stepped further into the room, a betrayal from the house with love. Bucky’s head rose, gaze roaming over your body.

You sat opposite him, afraid to move too fast. Bucky’s eyes met yours briefly before travelling down your arm to your hand laying atop the wood. A smile creeping onto his face at the sight of the diamond adorning your finger. His proud prize, his bride to be.

You ate in silence with the eyes of Bucky following your every move, the plate clearing of food painfully slow. Once you finished, you rose from your seat trying to find the words but as your eyes met his, every single word you’ve ever known escaped, fled from your head. Bucky’s eyebrows raised at your silence, arms resting beside the plate. “Everything alright, darling?” He asked curiously, but you caught the sarcasm.

You nodded, opening your mouth. “I’m going into work today.” Your mouth tasted like cardboard. “Darling.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up, a flash of silver in his iris. “Good for you. It’s important to be busy. You might want to look for someone to take over the cafe though. Better start looking now before it’s too late.”

Your breath caught itself in your throat. “Why?” You squeaked out.

“Because once we have children you won’t be able to take care of a business. I need you here full time. Take care of my offspring and the house, then it will be your responsibility.” 

The thought alone frightened you. This house wasn’t a home, its wasn’t a place for children to grow up and you knew that no one should grow up having Bucky as a father. A man so wicked and demonic it was impossible to imagine him running around town with a baby in his arms. The possibility of him killing the child was too high and him strangling you in your sleep was way too possible.

You started to see the cafe with your mother’s eyes. The first glance, shiny and cute, fading with every blink. The paint chipping at the corners, chairs crooked and the smell of your mothers dead body in the back slowly making it’s way through the vents. 

You got everything ready for opening, but your mind was anxious about Mrs Wilson’s arrival, eyes jumping to the door in hopes to see her walking up the stairs, but she wasn’t there. Hours and hours went by and no sight of her. The possibility of an escape became slippy, flowing through your dry hands. 

You stared out of the window, lips parted and chapped. Your breath the only prove that you’re alive, the rising and falling of your chest, shaky but there. The beating of your heart confirming the life inside you, but the rest of your body was still, limb. Outside the sun was shining, rays of sunlight flowing through the trees, passing branches on the way down to the ground. 

The sound of the clock brought you back to life. Time. You looked over at it, hope further slipping between your fingers. It was time to clean up. Like you were in trance you started your routine but movement from the corner of your right eye surprised you. 

And there she was. Mrs Wilson climbed the stairs to the door and as the bell rang she stepped inside dressed in blue. Her eyes met yours and her face lit up. “Y/n, good to see you.” She stood in front of you. “Sorry for being so late I was held up by Stephen at the post office he- are you alright?”

You shook your head slightly to focus. Her eyes staring into yours with worry. “I- yes I’m fine. Just worried you wouldn’t come that’s it.”

“You look sick.”

You wiped your forehead, the back of your hand coating in sweat. “I just want to know that your plan is going to work.”

Mrs Wilson reached over the counter to place her hand on your shoulder. “Sadly I can’t promise anything, but it’s worth a try. The plan is safe as long as it stays between us.” Her lips curled to a reassuring smile but worry still found it’s way into your blood, flowing through my arms and down my legs. “So you agree to it? You’ll be there?”

You simply nodded your head. 

“Alright. On Saturday you are going to work just like you did today, at one fourty-five you’ll leave but make sure you keep everything as it is. That means lights on, food still on display. You have to take Elsberg street instead of Köpenick street, it’s that weirs smelling ally to the right.You’ll come out to the back of Magnolia Flowers and that’s where he’ll meet you.”

“Does he know that I’m escaping?”

“No, he just thinks he’s giving you a ride to the city to visit family. Once you’re in the city though, my friend Ally will take you in, she owns a pet store in the east and will take you there.”

You swallow thickly. This plan required you to leave not only Dawn, but also move to the other side of the country. 

You started cleaning up as soon as Mrs Wilson left and a sense of hope lit within you, a light sparking in you heart. You turned off the lights  in the back and heard the bell chimed gain thinking it was Mrs Wilson gain you walked to the front, but instead of her it was Bucky standing in the middle of the cafe. 

He stood there with flowers in his hands and as you approached him you thought the light within you would die, but it didn’t. It kept on burning.

“Come one, darling.” Bucky handed you the flowers and gestured for you to leave. While you walked towards his bike, Bucky’s demeanour frightened you. What if he heard you and Mrs Wilson talk? As if the walls turned to linnen, thin enough to hear the words of betrayal in his ears. 

Your couldn’t read his face as you sat behind him on his bike, flowers in one hand and the other holding on to his body for dear life. The houses passed you with speed, wind blowing beneath the helmet and all seemed so easy. You had no idea where Bucky was going but you didn’t care about that either. Tomorrow was coming and with the sun lowering behind Dawn you were reassured it was. 

The calm of knowing that you will be gone from here. 

Bucky came to a stop and you looked at the destination ahead of you. A small bar with motorcycles standing all around it. The neon sign flickering with every letter. With the flowers in hand you walked behind Bucky into the gloomy atmosphere, a change of scenery from the dull environment you were usually in. A place foreign to you. 

Bucky led you through the room to a table full of familiar faces. You didn’t know their names nor did you need to. A quick glance from everyone and you sat down, laying the flowers atop the table.

Bucky ordered round after round, encouraging you to take a drink as well, but you knew you needed a good nights sleep for tomorrow. So Bucky and the other Howling Commandos kept their stomachs full of beer and the air full of words. You sat quietly, observing the people around you until someone mentioned your name.

“Are those flowers from Magnolia? Bucky you’re a gentlemen.” Your head turned to the flowers on the table and it was true. They are from Magnolia flowers. Lana. She worked there. 

“Yes, they are.” Bucky’s arm swung around your shoulders. “Best flower shop in town.”

Your chest tightened at the mention. You looked at Bucky and his smirk stopped the blood flowing through your veins. It was intentional. It has to be. Satanic. That’s the only word you could describe his intention. Bucky’s lack of sympathy and the maniacal actions he had shown you over the moths you’ve known him were driving you to near insanity. He was mad.

You looked back at the flowers, staring at their petals of red and yellow. “I want to go.” You murmured.

“What was that?” Bucky asked.

“Can we please go?” Your gaze met his and Bucky travelled your face, a smirk forming on his lips. 

“Sure, darling.” Bucky said and rose from his seat. You took the flowers from the table and took one last look at the group, hoping that this would be the last picture of them in your mind. 

As you made it to the house Bucky walked ahead of you, up the stairs to his room. You found it strange since he never goes to bed with you at the same time. You entered the room, placing the flowers on the table and heading straight to the bathroom to get ready for bed, but Bucky’s hand stopped you. 

He turned you around with one swift move, the look in his eyes making the blood shoot straight to your head. 

“Get on your knees.”

If the sun don't shine on me today And if the subways flood and bridges break Will you lay yourself down and dig your grave Or will you rail against your dying day

[ next ]

[ taglist closed ]

[psalloacappella]

Red (oneshot)

Title: Red  Pairing: SasuSaku legit i don’t write anything else  Word Count: 3400~ Rating: E, for like explicit, not for everyone. NSFW. Ya get it. Tags/What you’ll see: Sakura getting the office and oral she deserves 

Summary: An old dress, a new office — Uchiha Sasuke offers regards to both.

Ao3 | FFN |  ↓

(I have to preface when I post this that my top-tier amazing friend convinced me to do so and reminded me not to delete it this morning in the cold sober dawn lol. I consider this absolutely self-indulgent)

.

.

.

“Ah, Sakura?”

Jade eyes alight and ringed with red, her subordinate regrets interrupting what seems to be a bout of sickness or sadness; she’s been busy lately. They all are.

Spine bent in bass clef camber, in exhaustion, she straightens at his words into a ramrod illustration of diligence. Over scrolls and haphazard paperwork, empty mugs sitting in their own fossilized dregs, she snatches up a fountain pen to preserve her dignity and reputation. At her age she’s been handed enormous tasks that she only imagined in her wildest dreams, and most of those, in the past, were of love and marriage and not the nightmares and duties which replaced them.

Extreme stress manifests in mysterious and chaotic ways; she intuitively knows this, especially today, as she basks in the quiet glances, the way their eyes follow her long, long legs leading into ankles in heels that feel like cages. Her choice of a dress underneath her white coat today feels like a wanton beacon, but her battle reputation precedes her, legendary and terrifying; no one will dare blithely approach legs like those or earn the ire of her dangerous hands, so delicate until they’re crushing mountains and throats.

Electricity, a buzzing in the marrow of her bones; she taps the pen on the desk in a stilted rhythm.

She regards the young medic with a hazy gaze for a moment, then waves a hand. “Sorry, I’m just—”

He steps over the threshold; Sakura raises her chin, lips taut.

“No no, I’m sorry,” he insists. Under her bright eyes he feels the beginnings of idiocy and bumbling; his boss makes him tongue-tied, stupid. Younger than him, in a league of her own as she stands at shoulders with new legends; lethal, inured to all the stories about herself.  

He notices the ochre on her lips like an invitation.

“I wouldn’t come too close today,” she says. Grants him a demure smile, the type that doesn’t quite fool her friends but still works with fools like him. “I’m not feeling the best. It could be contagious, and that wouldn’t be helpful to our operations right now.”

“Yes, of course.” Agreeing, nodding fervently with the obedience of a particularly compliant breed of dog. “If I may — you work so much. Too young to be feeling so tired.”

A laugh, it bubbles — starts from her chest as a giggle and drips from her lips as honey. Makes her quake, mottled red seeping through the skin of her chest as a sieve, collarbones sharp.

She looks feverish; she looks like a dream.

In turn she struggles to keep the waver out of her voice, knowing she’s lit up as fulgent as rouge festival lanterns and there's no way to kill the current.

I’ll never live this down — have to get him out of here

The cough she musters up is weak and if this was Ino, or gods forbid, her teacher, they’d call it pathetic. For a young man trapped in her sphere of admiring attraction, it does nothing but induce sympathy. But her legs are shaking, the situation is dire, and she’s loath to have another round of torrid rumor on the flapping lips of civilians and staff.

“Ah!”

At her cry, she lets her temple fall into her hand and her subordinate rushes forward. Gasping, she raises her other one, trembling.

“No, please. That sounded worse than it was. Just a headache coming on. In fact,” she rasps, “if you can let Shizune know I’ll be taking the next hour to recoup? A nap, maybe that’ll help.”

“I don’t know if I can leave you like this.” His tentative step earns her sharp gaze again, pursed lips that start his mind wandering in a way that makes him blush. Physically shaking his head to clear it, he nods slowly, finally, backing out of the doorway.

The hollow sound of Sakura’s kneecap hitting the underside of the desk rings in the space. Her gullible underling starts forward again, but the foreboding slap of her hand on the desk stops him cold. Acute, like it’s one to the face.

Sakura brings her knees together, swift, crushing his damn near regal bone structure and the handsome high bridge of his nose between the muscle of her thighs. A warning.

She glances down at him, he’s slicked with sweat — the glimpse of his glittering black eye and swirling purple one bring her too close to a wave she can’t indulge; she’s still this unwanted visitor’s boss until he closes the fucking door.

“Just me being clumsy! Do as I’ve asked and let her know, and,” here her breath hitches, hand leaving the desk, fingers burying themselves in dark messy hair, “th-thank you for worrying. I appreciate it.”

She’ll pay for the smile she gives this man, a sparkle of hope, like he’ll ever earn his boss’s favor in that way, as if he’ll measure up in any lifetime to the man that has her heart, the man on his knees under her desk.

“Sure. I mean,” horrified at his own too-familiar tone, “of course, right away, ma’am. Miss. I—”

“Oh go now. ” It stutters out in jete musical meter, resembling pain — or other things. “Please.”

She doesn’t have to tell him to close the door, though she’s surprised he didn’t find another excuse to stay with her. Oh, he has it bad. But there’s no time to think —

Sinking into her chair, her hands grip the armrests with an intensity that forces music from them, cracking underneath her fingers. And now all the words of the last few minutes tumble from her lips, an unintelligible medley of curses and pleas cradling the half-formed shell of his name.

Without warning, she yanks him back by the hair and almost comes right there:  His eyes scalding her, the mess on his stupid and incredibly fuckable face, a talented and dangerous mouth settling into a smirk as he thumbs an errant bit of her off his lip.

“That was close. Ah, so are you.”

He says it with such smugness and vanity. Quivering in her office chair under nothing but his stare, still in the grips of the unrelenting buzz and hum he’s enticed, and he absolutely notices.

“One of these days, we’ll be caught!” Tries to sound stern even as he rolls his neck and shoulders with a pithy nonchalance. “Stop that. So arrogant, preening like that—”

“Me? That’s rich.” He lazily trails a finger from her swollen, hot clit to her opening, lingering and lush to force all the heat and sounds he’s craving — her fingernails dig into her thigh while the pallor of her skin and dress seep and marry, reflections of one another. “Why did you wear this, Sakura?” Nudges the fabric with his nose, and she mumbles something hazy under his resumed touch; lost in orbit, in a void, in a place unearthly.

He starts the routine again, pressing his mouth to the inside of her thigh. Frowns at the irritating strip of fabric that constitutes clothing; it’s been twisted and pushed aside anyway. Her skin burning against his face, a lean cord of muscle taut underneath her pale skin. Vaguely threatening, but she’s yet to crush him to death and he’s on the second round of bringing her there and back again, and close calls such as those seem to stoke something smoldering. Some days, it feels like the only thing worth pulling himself out of bed for.

He fucks like he fights:  Relentless, consuming. But that essential difference for the former is he never gives an inch; here, he pours it all in, something like an endless apology. Maybe she knows and that’s why she wears the red dress he won’t admit he prefers and paints her lips and runs the entirety of this village hospital system with grace and her own brand of gentle ascendancy — why he’s desperate for just the ragged edge of danger.

One of her legs shudders, the frenzied tap-tap-tap of her heel stammering against the floor in a cadence fit for instruments. “Sasuke-kun.”

Between the presses of his lips leading a hot, agonizing march back to her core, an arrogant noise in his throat escapes, rich and amused. “So this — is your new office?”

“Mmm,” she confirms, still clinging to the chair. The only support she has; the room’s spinning and every cell is vibrating, pink eyebrows knitted as she fights to remain upright and solid and somewhat human because the door’s not locked and she knows he knows, knows he doesn’t care and frankly neither, really, does she. Melting like basalt in unending, stifling heat.

Calloused fingers walk up the soft skin of her calf, catching and searing, sundering the delicate layer where they brush to release the pent-up steam underneath.

He’s fire; she is earth.

Always, all of him ablaze —  possessive in its own discipline but a thing begging for taming. He builds the pyre here, as he has been for the last hour or so, to focus himself, patiently coaxing it into something chaotic but fruitful. Lately all he’s felt is the joyless, sober embodiment of a tool to be used though perhaps this is the same, a compulsion by any other name.

But it can’t be, not with her looking like this. Striding down her hallways with purpose while bending the horrors and ills of the world to her indomitable will. Certainly this dress is no accident, as it never is, not with him coming off a mission full of blood and necessary evil.

Dragging the thin, sorry excuse for fabric down the burning skin of her leg, Sasuke’s tongue finds her clit with terrifying precision and rips a moan from her throat, pulling a jerk of her hips against his mouth. The shockwave shared, vibrating as wires intertwined, a forcible current.

Leans back, takes her in:  Her trembling, knuckles white from the fatal grip on the arms of the chair, knees sinking inward toward one another. The sight of this rich red dress against the stark, starched white of her coat blending with the mottled pinks and crimsons painting her cheeks and chest. Unraveling before him, extraordinary, even while this space belongs to her.

This, sometimes, feels like undeserved forgiveness.

Because she is always, always in living color.

Adjusts his own knees, shifts, a catch of air in his throat as he accommodates the hard length of his own caged cock. They’re no stranger to claiming desks and other surfaces as their own, but she has strings on him and there's authority in here now, where she holds men at the door with a flicker of her gentle jade eyes borne of the grueling process which created her.

Sliding the useless fabric into his pocket, raises his chin to her. Stares as she bites her lip and struggles for composure, though it’s difficult under the gaze of a man like this.

He waits, and the only sounds are ragged breathing from both.

“Please,” she whispers. Quivering, even at the ask. “Before someone comes back.”

“You worry so much,” he says. “Relax.”

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“What did I tell you,” he hisses, “about apologies?”

She blinks, startled, and her lips part. A sparkle, a brilliance emerging in her eyes as she clenches and unclenches her fingers. Still, they shake a bit, the anticipation and remnants of the rise and current before still lingering, lying in wait. Predatory. A wetness floods to her lips and she swallows it down, leveling her eyes to his glittering, savage gaze.

With a deep inhale, she spreads herself before him, knees apart. Blushing invisible, lost in the red that’s already dappled every inch of her, she exhales the rest of her timidity with an edged, sharp expression and hopes she’s being clear—

Sakura just barely glimpses the fierce red in his gaze before he answers with his tongue, deft, ardent, and divine.

Breaking the chair arms beneath her delicate hands again, scrabbling to stay on the beautiful planet before it turns her loose. Sinking, again, the boundaries of atoms dissolving — they are nowhere but bliss.

Like before, the careful building of a fire, the agonizing escalation:  He drops a kiss here, employs a firm tongue there, skirting the easy option in favor of the tease as he peels her back, layer by layer. Running it the length of her slit, heart skipping a bit at the dangerous quake of her thigh muscle; how long it's taken to differentiate between pleasure and impending crush. Again, the sensation of crawling into the den of something prized and feral. He feels it, her writhing and the pace and canter of her breathing and she’s liquid gold, fucking melting —

Her hips jerk, hard, when his tongue swirls around her clit, the cry coming from her jagged as broken glass and trembling like music, all things that make his own situation difficult to manage but he will, because these sounds entrench him firmly in reality. Alive. Knees screaming on the hardwood floor, unyielding as his cock cradled only by fabric and not as he wishes, by her hands or her red, red lips like the kind she’s wearing now.

Instead he slows her down again, pendulum swings between teasing and a furious rhythm that coaxes the full spectrum of human sounds from her beautiful throat. Rewarded for it with a whiny gasp as if breaking the surface of water, mingling with his own as he catches his breath. The end of it careens into words, something rough, he’s not even quite sure what he’s saying but he imagines, neither does she.

This—fucking dress—!

Nice, isn’t it?

Gets you attention

But only from you, S-Sasuke-kun

And her hand lands on his head again, thin fingers yanking his hair and guiding him as he splays her open, lays her bare. His name never quite fully leaves her lips, dancing with fragments of alternating pleas and curses. Just for that, for something he’d never thought he’d ever hear in his life, he grimly knows he’d write a fucking sonnet just to hear her like this — and with his tongue, he does, or at least approximates. The tremors of her shift deeper now, approaching release; she’s so slick it feels vile, indulgence in sin. All of which is smeared on his lips, his face, tasting of tang and salt; how many times has he been told he’s selfish? Guilty. Greedy, too, as he pauses to breathe—

looking up at her, he has an idea but can’t possibly know the extent of this, how she’s absolutely wrung out and beyond this dimension, hell, this galaxy, every inch of her humming in tune with the universe and brimming with absolute, inescapable heat, muscles taut and and begging for climax. Though the soft edges of her green eyes that see through him and everything else, rolling back, mouth open and lips parted in mimeo of an oracle, sunken in the weight of divinity, might give him some clue.

Don’t stop, please—!

— he’s there, with his fingers buried and soaked and deep, playing that just-right rhythm with a thumb on her clit that’s been worked to the edge and back again over the span of her busy afternoon. Hairs part from his scalp without remorse; her nails scrabbling and fingers clinging as she prays and sighs and curses occasionally, quietly, into the limp back of her hand. As if she’s really still trying to maintain a semblance of professionalism in the throes of being launched into orbit.

So very close. He knows by the slightly erratic rhythm, the pulsating of muscles inside and out and around him, tight and he steals a quick breath to endure and ease his fingers out to redouble effort with his mouth because the way she’s sounding, that sharp icy note on the ragged edge of pleasure and pain, tends to be the signal, the tipping point. The tremor her free hand sends through the bones of the chair. Knees apart as far as she can manage and desperately meeting him at the hilt —

Steady through until the end.

Release comes as glass shattering, atoms splitting. Unintelligible words trapped in amber, in a moment, in desire. With a mouth full of fire, he rides it with her through every wave, persisting through her slow and ebbing tumble back down to earth. To him.

He leans back at last, groaning at the pain in his knees. Watches her tremble and twitch, wringing out the very last dregs of her orgasm, displacing everything coherent left in her head.

Seconds stretch into minutes, and he gets to his feet as she languishes in a pool of pleasure, steeping as scalding tea.

At some point her hand rises to her own lips, limp and wavering, to clean her own unabashed drippings with an expression of dizzy surprise. The white dissipates from her vision and she finds his eyes on her again, one still richly red in its sole mission of memorizing the glowing after.

“Oh.” That’s all she says, breathless.

Sasuke brings fingers across his own mouth, rolls his jaw side to side, and something about his expression of smug satisfaction resonates, strings of a plucked instrument, a pull again of desire that threatens to ruin the sanctity of this brand new office and the role that comes with it.

For a moment she leverages the chair to rise, then loses strength — she lowers herself back in it, arms still quaking.

She reaches for him, plucking at his shirt. Hair flyaway, askew from her frenzied fingers, still in his mission gear.

Yanking him down by the collar, she crashes her mouth against his, red and hot, the tang and taste of herself immiscible with his own. Whatever sound he makes, this growl or rumble or ache, splits them open.

What pulls them apart is the grating sound of their former sensei’s voice:  “I heard from a bird that someone in here was sick?”

Sasuke feels them in the room now and pulls away. Half-turns, finds himself leaning on her desk in a way that’s almost too casual, but necessary — his knees are shot through. Sakura smiles too widely, masking a secret; after all, both still feel the pinpricks of liquids drying in the new air.

“From your darling subordinate,” Kakashi twinkles, grinning underneath his mask.

“That one who follows you around like a puppy,” Naruto supplies, pouting.

Kakashi tilts his head toward him, both still lingering over the threshold. “Terrible, hm?”

Naruto misses the jibe and instead turns his wide ocean eyes on her new space. Whistles. “Man, Sakura-chan, this office is niiice. I’m jealous.”

“You’ll be in your new one soon enough,” she says, and there she is, her usual self. “I have faith. Anyway, this office comes with responsibility.”

“Well if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

“He was under the impression you were sick. Looking at you now, though,” and here Kakashi pauses in a manner all too deliberate, eyes sweeping over Sasuke’s cloak and belongings in a chair, and ends it with looking right at him, “you seem all right. Exhausted, I imagine.”

Her flush threatens to undo them both.

“He’s . . . sweet. To care.”

“He’s a fool,” Sasuke mutters.

“Perfect, you’re dressed nice,” Naruto crows. “How did you know we’d come make you celebrate? You didn’t eat, I bet you didn’t!” He eyes Sasuke up and down, at his unusually ruffled appearance, and clicks his tongue. “You didn’t even go home first, did you? Shitty boyfriend.”

The damage he committed on his recent mission pales in comparison to the crimes Sasuke wants to indulge now.

“Anyway, we’ll wait out here. After all,” Kakashi says, inclining his head, “this is your space now.”

Sakura exhales long and slow as they step out into the hallway. Covering her face with her hands, she groans. “No matter my job, I’ll never escape embarrassment, huh?”

Standing at last, she readjusts her clothes and kisses the underside of Sasuke’s chin. She reaches for his pocket and he moves easily out of her grasp.

“Sasuke-kun!”

“Pointless now. I’ll keep it.”

No matter what time, season, dimension, he regards all of her — the dress, the lips that held their color, the new flush simmering on her neck and chest — and craves, endeavors, to always love her red.

[jamiedc-they-them]

Who you used to (and can no longer) be (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: Dany x Brother reader, maybe reader was caught by Cersei and is reunited with Dany. idk its a stretch but it came to mind. it can be angsty or nah whatever u want, B

  It had been a while since you’d seen anything but the small reflection of light from a torch on the cell door. It had been a while since you had heard anything but the rats in the cell that you were thrown into months ago or the creaks of the door or the rustles of your chains.

You got a new sound, that being of the door opening. You also got a bit lighter, for a moment that was. The door was then slammed closed, and a voice that was anything but new spoke.

“Still awake? Hm, I have to give you the fact that you’ve lasted longer than I thought you would,” The taunting voice of Cersei Lannister spat as she approached you, goblet of wine in her hand as always, “Then again, you were always the odd one out, weren’t you? The little Targaryen runt? I do have to wonder though, what your whore of a sister will do to get you back?”

She came even closer to you, now towering over you, “See, the families all live up to their sigils, don’t they? Lannister’s as lions who tear their enemies apart; the Starks, the lucky wolves in a pack who can survive the winter; then there’s the Targaryen’s,” She poured the wine onto you, aggravating your wounds.

“As the feisty, fiery dragons, with so many scars. What’s one more though? Although, I’m sure to your sister, it would make all the difference between you being worth saving and you being left behind to rot. But we’ll see.”  

 It had been a while since Danny had been able to sleep. It had been a while since she had been able to think straight and not have her mind on something other than the fact that her brother was still missing.

It had gotten to the point where she had accidentally called Jorah, Y/N. The man hadn’t minded, of course, he politely corrected her and moved on. Still, it showed. It showed how much of her mind was chipping away at a plan to get you back and safe.

“My Queen,” Daenerys turned to Tyrion, the one who had called her name, “Maybe we should make preparations for when we get Lord Y/N….Make preparations for as to how to proceed.” He suggested, struggling to find a correct way to phrase it without triggering and setting her off.

“What do you mean?” She questioned, blunt and with a bit of fear and tremble in her voice.

He looked to the others for a moment before proceeding, “I just mean, that Lord Y/N will not fully be the same Y/N we knew before his capture…We’ll need to tread lightly. He will be traumatized.”

“But he’s still my brother.” Danny said without hesitation, firmly.

“He doesn’t mean it in offence, your grace,” Missandei said, trying to clear things up, “What he – we mean, is that Y/N will be different, and we need to be aware of that.”

Danny nodded, “We will, but I know Y/N, and I will do what is best for him.”

They didn’t meet eyes, but the others could tell that it wasn’t exactly true. She’d work on a phantom form of you.

One that didn’t exist anymore.

 “Your grace!” A soldier said as he entered the throne room, holding a folded piece of paper, “I have….” He took a moment to catch his breath, have you seen how many steps their were to get to the throne room?

“.I have news on Y/N, Cersei Lannister has him! She wants to meet!” He yelled, giving a brief synopsis of the letter.

Wow, this really wasn’t royal at all, was it?

Then again, the soldier seemed to know that, when it came to you and your safety, royalty was thrown out the window.

Daenerys stared at the soldier in shock. It seemed that the plan that she had devised on her own was also out the window.

 “It’s obviously a trap, if anyone knows my sister well enough to know one of her devious schemes, it’s me.” Tyrion made his thoughts on it known. Don’t go.

“Of course, it is,” Grey worm then turned to Danny, “You shouldn’t go, my Queen. Or, if you do, at least bring some guards with you. I’ll find you my best men –”

“No,” Her words stunned all the room, “Cersei asks for me, she gets me alone. I’m not risking Y/N: I’m not losing the only family I have left.”

She knew it was risky. She knew that this could just be something that would end up with the two last Targaryen’s                 being killed. But she also knew that she couldn’t just leave you.

She had to bring you home, to make you feel safe once again.

 It was the dead of night but hearing Tyrion gasp and knock chairs over made everyone rush to the meeting room. There, it held everyone bar one.

Daenerys.

“She left.” He announced in a solemn tone.

There was no stopping her now.

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

Being the youngest made Daenerys’ motherly side show itself so much more than it ever had. Or, unfortunately, more than she ever got the chance to show it. Losing her child was hard, don’t get her wrong; to lose a life she would never know and that would be her own by blood and fix the mistakes.

Now, you were that. You were the thing she had to protect, no matter what. It had started with your brother, his abuse that went more to you as a way to punish her; two birds and all that.

Her maternal instincts made her help comfort you; it helped her help treat your wounds; it helped her be more empathetic; it helped her get through it, putting her mind of helping her younger sibling through the pain kind of helped her through her own.

 She had to admit, the small crew she had brought for the boat did a good job. Was it the most royal of arrivals? No, but she couldn’t play the trump card of the dragons yet. She had to get you back with as little hassle as possible.

Power play’s from her could wait. It could wait until she had you to help council her on it. You were always a smart one smarter than her and always willing to listen to others while arguing your own view.

She was losing it, she had to admit. Hell, she’d sailed all the way with barely any protection, so that wasn’t nothing. Still, if this was it, she didn’t want to make it worse for you.

If this was it, at least you’d be together in the end. The Targaryen siblings vs the world; the world might win, but it wouldn’t win without you both giving it one last chilling smile of acceptance.

“You’re hear to see Queen Cersei?” The guardsman asked. If he had any other right to speak, he probably would’ve mentioned the lack of guards. Still, part of Daenerys appreciated the fact that he didn’t, that he simply let it go and led her up at her nod.

Yes, she was here to see the queen. No, she was not there to burn it all down.

At least, not yet, anyway.

 The stones were sharper here. In Dragonstone, it had a smoothness to them that made it feel like you were almost gliding on them. It definitely helped make it not feel as big as it did, steps wise.

These were different, these were jagged and edgy; small bits pointing out that dug in a few instances. Definitely not well kept.  

Still, that was put aside when she reached the top. In reaching it, she saw you on the floor. She finally got a good look at you. In the dreams (and nightmares) she’d have of finding you, it’d always be you either looking normal or you being too bloodied to recognise.

This was a mix but leaning a lot more towards the dreams than the nightmares (which, unfortunately, came more often than the dreams did). You were bloody, just in your nose and a cut on your lips; your eyes weren’t too bad, if not a little fucked up from punching.

Over than that though, you were breathing and alive. When you met eyes, you looked scared more than relived. Then again, she was riding a high of relief at just seeing that you were ok.

Now came the part where she kept you and herself that way.

 “I must admit, I didn’t expect you to arrive,” Cersei said as she sipped her wine, “Then again, when one of your flock are hurt, the others huddle around them, don’t they?” She taunted.

However, the fire in her eyes died a little when she saw that it was just Danny, “Came alone, did you? It could’ve been a trap.”

Still could be, “It may have been, but I wasn’t going to just abandon my brother. Just as I’m sure you wouldn’t.” She knew it was borderline flattery. But she had to not piss her off.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Danny asked, fire completely gone from her eyes and a soft gaze replaced it; one filled with love and familial concern. She was dead certain that these types of looks (ones of comfort and respect and love) were something that you had been sorely missing.

There was silence at her answer. You looked as if you hadn’t even heard her question. She, however, didn’t lose hope. You were still in there somewhere.

“Boy,” You looked to Cersei with a shaking body, “Answer your sister.” She commanded.

You looked at Danny, eyes fearful and slightly unfocused. You only nodded, all-be-it slowly.

“Verbally.” Cersei said, not in a snap, but a calm voice.

“I’m alive.” You croaked out.

“Louder.”

“I’m ok.” Your words finally reached Danny, and she could hear just how unused your voice had been. It was raw, and it had cracked.

She could see that you clearly weren’t. But she could deal with that later.

  “Why did you ask for me if it wasn’t a trap?” Daenerys asked.

Cersei paused, her face showing that it was a valid question, “Because, I wanted you to see what a broken Targaryen looks like. The mess that they can be. The pain that they can be in. You see, when you do fully come here, to try and take what you believe is yours, maybe you’ll remember this.”

 “He hit me.” You were shaken, still shaking as you sat on your bed and your older sister knelt in front of you.

She took your shaking hands in her own, “He did, yes.” She said, regretfully.

“Why? What did I do to make him hate me.” Your question broke her heart a little.

“You did nothing, dear brother. Nothing. It’s all his ego,” She comforted. She knew, sadly, that the damage had been done. But she knew one thing, she wasn’t going to let it destroy you.

Not you.

 “You can have him,” Danny looked at Cersei in shock, “Take it as a warning. As a precautionary tale.”

 Danny didn’t waste any time in coming to you and picking you up. She didn’t look at Cersei, only you. She then hugged you. You stiffened but didn’t hug back. She didn’t seem to mind much though. She just held you tightly.

She had you, and you were back with those you belonged with.

Now she just had to return home.

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

The ride back, you sat in your room. Well, you laid in your bed, more like. You only ate when she would bring you food. She wanted to be the one to do it, she knew that you wouldn’t respond to anyone else.

She didn’t try and get you to speak. She knew that you wouldn’t want to and trying to force you to would only lead to more problems.

Still, at least she didn’t have to order the crew not to bother you: they seemed to just know from the get-go.

 “I have no choice in this.” She told you, trying to not allow her voice to tremble and show you the fear she felt. She had to be strong for you.

“I can’t just lose you.” You said in quiet voice. Your fear ruled you. Whenever you had been hurt, she had been there to help you; to help you rise back up when you fell.

Now, that would be gone.

She glided to you, kneeling once more to your level. She put her fingers under your chin and lifted it up, “Whatever happens, we go together. I’m never leaving you, little brother. Never. I’ll protect you as much as I can.” She promised you and pulled you into her arms.

You hugged her back, fearfully.

 The boat arrived, and there stood four or so angry advisors. Well, angry and relieved. Danny walked slowly, holding your hand and arm, and helping you walk down the ramp. She had almost not done this, as you had flinched and pulled your arm away when she went to touch.

However, after a moment, you had allowed it. She led you down, fully concentrated on your wellbeing. She didn’t take any notice of her friends. She only said one thing to you.

“We’re home.”

 The tent was big, but that didn’t matter to you. It was lonely. You were lonely. However, you didn’t tell her; you knew she had enough on her plate, and your issues would only add to that.

“Hey,” You looked up at her soft eyes that seemed to notice your turmoil, “We’ll be fine. We’ll make it through this to the other side, together. I promise, you’ll be fine.”

 “I kept it the same. I didn’t want to touch anything just in case you wanted to make any changes yourself.” You nodded mutely as you entered your room. In the past, it would be a place of comfort, a place where you could feel almost free. This was not that. This place felt foreign and the warmth was something you were used to, just in a torturous way.

The first thing you did was close the curtains.

“You used to love that in the morning.” Your sister didn’t know why she said those words; but she still had.

“Maybe, but not anymore.” You used to be quiet, but this was the quietest she’d heard you.

 She remembered the first time she had been forced to have sex with Drogo. The way he was in charge and she whimpered. She had still been holding out some sort of hope that she could get away from his.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to. She knew she had to adapt.

So, she did. She gave into it. She gave into him. Deep down, she was still the scared little girl who had been dealing with her own trauma. But that girl was repressed more and more.

In the name of survival.

 She had woken on a brand-new day. She woke up with some vigour this time, just happy to have everything back to normal in a way.

She got up and ready for the day, taking in the view from her room.

She then left to fetch you. She felt like a walk would maybe help you a little. They had in the past after all.

However, when she knocked on your door, she received no answer.

“Y/N, it’s me.” She said softly, hoping that announcing that would help you.

Still, the door did not open.

When she went to knock again, she stopped herself when she put her ear to the door only to hear nothing inside.

She put her hand on the handle, turning it. It went all the way; the door was unlocked.

She opened it fully, and her eyes widened, and her breath quickened at what she saw, an empty room.

 She didn’t think she could run this fast, yet here she was. She was yelling orders, “Find Y/N!” Was the main one she was able to track.

You were missing again, but this time it was voluntary.

Now, she just figure out where you had gone. Where you had taken yourself to.

She stopped, letting oxygen fill her lungs. As she took deep gulps, she pressed her back against a wall and took a moment to think; to actually think.

 “Come on!” You cried out in excitement as you led your sister by the hand to your destination.

“Slow down, Y/N.” She tried to be serious, but your happiness made her have a smile of her own at your enthusiasm. You had always been a more pessimistic one, but these moments that could last for a while and bursts of happiness made herself happy.

“Here.” You said, stopping and lowering your hands, pulling her towards you.

Ahead of you laid a lake. It wasn’t the largest, or the deepest. But, still, a small lake was a small lake.

The sun seemed to catch the water just right and it shimmered.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s beautiful.” She said, softly. She took the view in. This beat anything from her window for sure.

 That was the day before you were taken. It was a memory that she both played over and over again, but also wanted nothing to do with it.

Now it was the key.

She knew where you were now. Only thing was, the context of your visit had changed. Just like you had had.

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

She was right, you were there. You were sat down instead of stood. She watched you for a moment. Actually, saw you for who you were now. Yes, you were still her brother, but you had changed.

She approached you, taking a seat next to you. For once, she didn’t try to force anything. Instead, she just looked at the view, taking in the head and the peacefulness of the place. It was nice.

“I started to have visions while I was there,” She was the now the one looking up at you. However, she didn’t talk, “I couldn’t tell you when I started to do that. It just kind of….happened. Moments where I would see things that a rational part of me knew wasn’t there, but that part was destroyed by the part that wanted it to be real.”

“Who did you see?”

“A mix of you and the others. To be honest, mostly you,” You looked at her as you continued, “You’ve always been the one to look after me. And I appreciate it, so much. But, since I got back, it’s….it’s just been too much. You’re acting as if I’ll snap right back to who I was, but I won’t. I can’t.” You confessed.

“I know….I know,” She let her voice shake this time. She wasn’t going to hide her emotions anymore. You were old enough and knew enough about to world to know the feelings she had, the fear, the pain, and the loss.

“I’m sorry that I did that.”

“We’ll get there. We’ll get there.” You assured; but it seemed it was more so for yourself.

“What can I do right now?” She asked.

“Just….just stay.”

“Of course.” She assured.

[bokutoisbestowl]

Fem!S/O Volleyball Player gets injured in her match: Tsukishima and Kageyama

Thank you so much for the request!! I hope you’re feeling better since when we last talked and that this can cheer you up!! Also would just like to remind people that my Request’s are open and I’m happy to take them for the following schools: Karasuno, Aoba Johsai, Nekoma, Fukurodani and Shriatorizawa. If you want to request for other characters (for example Aone or the Miya twins) then don’t be afraid to ask!!

**Also, sorry if the boys seem a bit OOC!!**

Tsukishima 

You were a transfer student, coming to Karasuno in Tsukishima's second year (you also being a second year).

Known for being one of the top liberos in the prefecture, everyone was shocked when you went to the school with one of the worst girls volleyball team

It's a total and utter surprise, everyone knows the girls team isn't as motivated or determined as the boys team but hopefully, you would bring a new personality to the team

And you definitely did

The school soon learnt of your position and skill set and you were immediately put on the starting line and soon enough the girls were looking at nationals

It didn't happen just because you were there though. You certainly added confidence to the team, afterall a libero's job is to keep the ball up. The team have complete faith in you and if it weren't for the rule that Liberos can't be captains, you would have been nominated in your third year

But instead you helped the captain be the foundation and the rest of the team put in the effort

They started coming to morning practices and were almost as late as the boys after school, which was great because you could then walk home with your boyfriend

You and Tsukishima had met when Noya heard the rumours of the girls new libero back when he was  third year. Of course he used his superiority as an excuse to go check them out. 

so they boys sat in on the girls practice and were shocked at how much they’d changed, with stronger attacks and more focus on defence - they were soon going to be joining the boys club in level of skill

Tsukishima was completely taken back by your level of concentration and love for the game, watching how you’d chase after even the most difficult shots

You two bonded after a few co-ed practice sessions, you would save the balls that he would block and that turned into one big playful friendship which eventually led to dates and a relationship

You two would support each other in and off the court, thankfully some of the games didn't line up so you could watch a few of his games and visa versa. 

Currently, he was stood in the stands, watching the last game before Nationals, YOUR last chance at Nationals.

tensions were obviously high in the air, Tsukishima watched as your entire team pushed for every last point trying to push ahead

only one more point 

one more point and the Karasuno Girls Volleyball Club would be going to nationals for the first time in years,

This led to what Tsukishima thought of as one of his worst nightmares.

You watched as the ball was spiked across the court, eyes following it as you ran full speed trying to keep up. without thinking you dives, arm up in the air to force the ball back to your team, colliding with a courtside table in the process

you felt the pain of losing that point before the pain of the actual fall. The ball had been set spiked and blocked before you even got up from your position on the floor. 

you shrugged it off, sending a nod to your coach who sat apprehensively on the side. she’d ran out of time outs, so with you playing ahead, she couldn’t stop the match

but you played on, ignored the ache in the back of your head, trying to focus on the ball but your sigh as getting blurry, breathes becoming laboured as the ball hits the ground on your side. 

in a great show of sportsmanship, however, the opposing teams coach stands and calls for a time out, effectively breaking the momentum her team had just received.

almost immediately, your team surrounded you and guided you back to the coach, who walked you to the infirmary, staying with put until she heard that you had narrowly avoided a concussion but still needed to rest. 

knowing you were in good hands, the coach left, not surprised to see Tsukishima waiting outside. before the tall boy could even speak, the coach smiles

“She’s fine. She just missed having a concussion but the nurse is going to keep an eye on her for a few hours. You can go in but make sure she rests eventually okay?”

Tsukishima simply nodded, quietly stepping into the room and explaining to the nurse that the coach had allowed him in. You looked up at him and sighed slightly, knowing that you were going to receive some sort of lecture for your actions

“Tsuki-”

“No y/n. What the hell were you thinking? Chasing after the ball like that? I know its an important game, but at least look where your going! You’re lucky that the table didn't crush you! And playing on even when you knew you were in pain?! Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

As he had been talking, his voice gradually got louder and louder, resulting in the nurse clearing her throat and sending him a stern look. You both apologised before Tsuki sat on the chair beside the cot you sat on. Shaking his head he grabs you hand, seeing you shake silently.

he hadn’t noticed you were crying until he saw the tear drops on the blankets, your quiet sniffles breaking the silence.

“Y/n-”

“I’m sorry... I thought... the girls had worked so hard... I just wanted to go to nationals... I went in first year but these girls... they deserve to know what it feels like Tsuki! I got ahead of myself... I’m sorry Kei...”

Tsukishima hugs you immediately, feeling bad for shouting at you. of course he knew your intentions were good, he just wished you’d think things through sometimes. but then you wouldn’t be.... you. Your passion for the game is what entranced him in the first place

pulling back, he wipes your eyes gently and offers you one of his rare smiles, taking the ice from the nurse with a thank you before gently holding it to the back of your head

“I get it... me telling you off like that was uncalled for, especially when I did a similar thing in first year against Shiratorizawa. just... be careful next time okay?”

with a nod from you, the two of you sat in silence, with Tsukishima having moved his chair closer to sit beside you, intertwining your fingers with his free hand and wiping your eyes whenever they water again

“Does your head still hurt?”

“A little... but it’s getting better... thank you..”

The silence continued, though you had taken out your phone to watch random clips on Youtube, wanting to fill the silence with quiet noise as to not hurt your sensitive head any further. the two of you only looked up when Tsuki would lift your face gently to press small kisses to your temple or cheek. Never one for intense PDA

Suddenly coach walks in smiling happily, thankful that one of her start players were okay and happy that she had good news

“We won!”

Tsukishima couldn’t help but smile, watching as his girlfriends face brightens and the grin is soon back on her face

“Congratulations. now all you have to do is learn to look where your running.”

“Kei!”

Kageyama 

You two had known each other in middle school and just like Kageyama you were a prodigy setter, though it’s fair to say that your relationship with your seniors was a lot more healthy.

Unlike Kageyama, you had people skills. Which is why you two were close friends since childhood, that and you lived next to each other. Often times you would practice together, which meant that not only were you training with one of the best up and oming setters, you also had the personality of Sugawara/Oikawa to match. you were definitely a force to be reckoned with and everyone knew that

In first year, you weren’t put in the starting line up of the girls team, which you were surprisingly okay with. You knew the third years would want their time to shine and respected that

of course you wanted to play but you’d get your chance, for now you simply helped their current setter (which everyone found odd that a first year was helping and second year) with showing off the spikers skills

with this you ended up building a repore with the girls and soon they started to trust you and had no problem leaving. They had faith that their new starting line up would bring victory to the team after they left

In second year things went smoother, you were put on the starting line up and Kageyama eventually confessed

yes, he confessed to you in a that weird aggressive way when he asks for help

you had to laugh at him slightly, because he was normally so non-cholent around you that it was odd to see him so nervous 

you also had to admit that the blush on his face was CUTE

for a while things went on as normal, you would both go to your own clubs on the night/morning time and walk each other to and from school.

occasionally you would also walk with the boys team and Kags or who ever was buying would treat you to a meat bun because you’re part of the family now.

yes the family includes girlfriends.

it was all going well, until your passion and determination caused you to get injured.

you had been in the stands when Daichi got hurt back in his third year and had gotten worried for the captain, you knew incidents happened during games, you just didn’t think there would be a repeat of that situation involving you the year after

Kags was in the stand with Hinata, watching and supporting as his girlfriend helped lead her team to victory, making tactical decisions and celebrating each point with a high five and a smile to her teammates

honestly you were having the time of your life, and even though you were fighting for your last game, you were doing so for the third years. 

you were in a position where all you wanted was for the third years to see all the hard work they put into their practices be worth it

so when the fall came falling down marking the winning point for the opposing team, you dived for it

it didn’t matter if you couldn’t set, you knew someone else would be able to cover that for you

it was their last chance and you wanted to help make it count

unfortunately, so did the other players.

you collided with someone, you couldn’t exactly see who but the ball was in the air and spiked directly down on the opposing team in the confusion.

you could feel a hand on your shoulder, eyes opening to find you captain above you looking worried

“I’m fine, let’s keep playing.”

“Are you sure y/n?”

with a nod and a thumbs up to the coach, you were allowed to keep playing but you could feel the eyes of not only your coach but your boyfriend on you. All you had to do was make sure the next two sets were yours and no one elses

of course the other team wouldn’t let it go that easy

two sets turned into three and three into four and soon the pain in your head was too much. your sets weren’t lining up and your frustration made the pain even more unbearable. it got to the point however when you tasted the metallic of blood inside your mouth

without thinking, you cupped your mouth and spat out the blood, the taste getting too much and the umpire immediately calling your coach over

you rushed to the infirmary, tears already in your eyes as you looked to the floor, looking up only to see your boyfriend’s concerned, angry face and Hinata’s 

you looked down, avoiding his gaze before the door was shut and you were examined. it wasn’t your fault, accidents happen and you were sure your teammate felt just as bad. you’d have to make sure Kageyama didn’t try to shout at her - though you were sure he wouldn’t do something like that to a female senior, even when he gets hotheaded

Eventually, you were allowed to leave, the teams manager waiting outside with Kageyama and Hinata. After quickly thanking the nurse, you shut the door and were immediately pulls into a hug

“I was so worried you dumbass! What were you even thinking?! You wouldn’t have been able to set, you didn’t need to move y/n! You saw what happened to Daichi last year, this is what happens when theres a lack of communication!”

Hinata and your manager had tried to calm him down but were instead pushed aside, Hinata soon going to shout back at Kageyama before your sniffles stopped him. sensing this was a private moment, your manager pulls Hinata away, leaving you with your boyfriend

who had no idea what to do

you were full on crying in front of him and he just blinked before awkwardly hugging you and you were grateful for it, even if it seemed weird to passersby

“I just wanted the third years to win...” it was all you needed to say for Kags to nod and understand. Of course he understood that feeling, he had taken Sugawara’s place in his first year. Every game they won was another chance for his senior to play again.

he just wish you’d take care of yourself.

“I get it... I’m sorry for shouting at you like that-”

“It’s okay Kags... thank you for caring so much..”

that smile... just another reason why he fell in love with you. Quickly, he placed a kiss on your lips, blushing as he guided you back to the court, waiting for your team outside

“Aww Kags, are you blushing?”

“Shut it.”

●●●●

TAGLIST:

@xkokichiimaginesx @reinyrei

[imaginethosedragons]

does anyone have more insight in what happened in the Queen of Mirth scene in The Wicked King? I feel like there’s a lot of stuff going on under the surface that isn’t apparent at first read. Like, Cardan warned her to leave, and then Jude realises that her humiliation was incidental to Cardan’s? Is the whole point that Locke wanted to make Cardan let on to everyone that he has feelings for Jude, which is one of the reasons Cardan can’t stop it because then it would underline that he does?

Like at first Jude says:

‘I look over at Cardan and find something dangerous glittering in his eyes—I will get no sympathy there.’ But was the dangerous glittering in his eyes directed at Jude, or was it actually meant for Locke?

‘I guess Locke has done something right at last. He promised the High King delights, and I am entirely sure that Cardan is thoroughly delighted.’ This can definitely be put down to Jude’s constant insistence to herself that everything Cardan does underlines how much he hates her - even though the reader begins to clock on to the fact that that isn’t true.

‘For a moment, I wonder if he wants me to be furious enough to order him to stop and reveal our bargain to the Court.’ Was this actually the case then? Was he as blindsided by this as Jude. If the prior statements are added together under the premise he didn’t know or wanted it to happen, it could very well be true.

‘I stand in the middle of the party in my underwear, daring them to say something. Daring Cardan to speak... Cardan steps close to me, his gaze devouring. I am not sure I can bear his cutting me down again. Luckily, he seems at a loss for words. “I hate you,” I whisper before he can speak. He takes my chin in his fingers, tilting my face to his. “Say it again,” he says as the imps comb my hair and place the ugly, stinking crown on my head. His voice is low. The words are for me alone. I pull out of his grip, but not before I see his expression. He looks as he did when he was forced to answer my questions, when he admitted his desire for me. He looks as though he’s confessing.’ That seems to put Cardan down as out of the joke. Instead, there is something else going on. It is the first indication in this scene that Cardan is attracted to Jude. Later, it is implied that it is this attraction which later Locke is playing with.

“Tell us what you think of our lady,” Locke asks Cardan loudly, with a strange smile.The High King’s expression stiffens, only to smooth out a moment later when he turns toward the Court. “I have too often been troubled by dreams of Jude,” he says, voice carrying. “Her face features prominently in my most frequent nightmare.”  Cardan stiffens, which is another tell that something is going on that he is not happy about. The way he speaks after is very consistent with the evasiveness of answers by Fae who can’t lie. She could be in his nightmares because he is afraid for her or her lack of feelings towards him.

“Go back to the palace, Cardan said, and I ignored the warning. I think of Locke’s expression while Cardan spoke, the eagerness in his face. It wasn’t me he was watching. I wonder for the first time if my humiliation was incidental, the bait to his hook. Tell us what you think of our lady.” So, did Cardan know something was going to happen, or did he just know it wasn’t safe for a mortal? Because if he knew it in advance, he could have told her. It also then indicates that Locke’s goal was to play with Cardan’s feelings for Jude. 

However, he also denies orchestrating it beforehand. “So what does Locke have planned?” I ask, unwilling to be grateful and refusing to compliment him on his sleight of hand. “He’s certainly staked his reputation on this evening.” Cardan makes a face. “I don’t worry my pretty head about that kind of thing. You’re the ones who are supposed to be doing the work. Like the ant in the fable who labors in the dirt while the grasshopper sings the summer away.”

He also keeps Taryn away for Jude. “I find it tedious to have my every conversation remarked on,” he says. “I want you to know your sister isn’t here tonight. I made sure of it.”

Also, this passage struck me because instead of agreeing that he liked seeing her humiliated, he actually subtly flipped it around to a question instead, which is like the classic Fae way of avoiding lying, he also insults the people who humiliated himself and Jude. “I don’t care if you did or not,” I tell him, too angry to make sense of my feelings. “I just care that you enjoyed it.” “And why shouldn’t I delight to see you squirm? You tricked me,” Cardan says. “You played me for a fool, and now I am the King of Fools.”

And then this bit seems to really confirm it: “Second, whatever your issue is with Cardan, whatever pushed you to make such a meal of toying with him, whatever made you think it was a fun to steal his lover and then throw her over for a mortal girl—as though you wanted him to know the thing dearest to him was worth nothing to you—let it go. Whatever made you decide to make me Queen of Mirth to torment him with the feelings you suspected he had, leave off. He’s the High King, and it’s too dangerous.”

As well as this bit, which clearly suggests that the purpose was to humiliate Cardan and not Jude. Locke leans down to right the broken chair, leaning it against a nearby table when it becomes clear it won’t stand on its own. “Oh, fine, you’re angry with me. But think. You may be Cardan’s seneschal and you’ve obviously fascinated him with your hips and lips and warm mortal skin, but I know that in your heart, whatever he has promised you, you still hate him. You’d love to see him brought low in front of his entire Court. Why, if you hadn’t been dressed in rags and been laughed at, you’d probably have forgiven me for every wrongdoing I’ve ever committed against you, just for engineering that.” (I bolded words that were italicised in the original text.)

So, what was it exactly about the Queen of Mirth scene that was meant to humiliate Cardan? When did he realise what was going to happen? And why did he feel like he couldn’t put a stop to it? Any thoughts?