#ive been staring at this chapter for like 7 months now and shes finally there

[mistocore]

hi its 2am and i just finished this enjoy its long asf

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38165638/chapters/162379720

[yeonmuse]

BREAK THE WALLS | Kim Hongjoong

Finale Chapter | Full Chapter Log

🀥 Government agent Hongjoong x Rebel Oc

🀥 genre | dystopian society, halazia x geurilla concept , enemies to lovers

🀥 word count | 1.5k

🀥 Summary | An organization by the name of Sector 1 was well known for their work in the underground, theyve been well known for the recruiting of teens and using them to form an army since the year 2034. Collecting strays for their rebellion against those in higher power. Now the year is 2064 and the organization still runs strong they run like a family, with the new technology theyve found ways of keeping alive those that have been scorned in any past battles theyve had against the government.

When the government sends in 7 of their best men to infiltrate the organization. What will they do when their cover is blown and their true intentions are revealed? Will they join the rebellion or will they continue to let the government pull their strings like the little puppets they once were?

Skylar district May october 23rd 2064

4 months had passed since the success of the rebellion but their work still hadn't been done. Now that the city knew about Sector 1 they would come to them for all their needs and the organization was more than happy to provide. The last four months had been pretty busy, with them reconstructing the city and now building another Sector hq in the city square to keep them all more in touch with the residents of the city. They had gotten so caught up in the things going on outside of hq that for a long while Yeosang barely even had any time to work out the situation with the microbots and assure they'd be okay to use.

"Hey mom, dad it's Tahani...I haven't exactly been the best of daughter now have I." Tahani sniffles as she stares at her parents' tombstones that were both decorated in wilted flowers.

"I know I haven't visited you since that day but I think I'm ready now. To talk about it all. For the longest time after I lost you two I blamed myself. For running away and joining the organization without so much as a goodbye to you guys or the others. For a while I kept telling myself it was all on me, all because I decided to jump into something without thinking I lost all of you. But I think I'm past that now. I realize that I can't keep blaming myself because there was no way I could have known. I was simply doing what I felt was right, doing what's best for my family. And because of that I met some of the most amazing people." She laughed through the tears as she thought about all those she had met lost along the way.

"I've met one of the most amazing men I've ever come across and I get to call him mine. Ive met the best of friends...amazing people who I look too as a family, though they can never replace any of you. And yeah, it still upsets me that i can't exactly live the life i thought i'd be living if we succeeded with the mission, but because of the rebellion every day this city gets better and better. I just wish you were here to see it." Removing the wilted flowers from each of her family's tombstones she replaced them with fresh ones before taking one last glance at each of them. Upon making her way back to hq she decided to take her time. She wanted to take in the new city for the first time. See all that they had rebuilt together. With Eden gone her home truly was a giant ball of starlight. Noticing that a few rain clouds came rolling in Tahani sighs before rushing off into the city in order to beat the rain

——

"Are you sure it works Yeosang, maybe we should hold off longer if something goes wrong." Hongjoong paced the floor of the living quarters as they waited for Tahani to return.

"Hongjoong i've literally tested on Yeonjun and Dino and it worked fine, just relax."

"He's right cruella, both operations went by smoothly just to calm down and leave it to us." Eris adds on as she takes a seat right next to Yeosang on the arm of his chair.

"How long will you call him that?" San asks before laughing and the girl just shrugs her shoulders.

"How long will he have that hair?" She asks, earning a sly grin from Yeosang who stealthily brought his arm around the girl's waist.

"Behave." Was all he needed to say for the girl to finally go silent

"Wait wait wait did I miss something here." Mingi eyes the two, a surprised look on his face.

"Mind your business Song Mingi." Was all Eris said before her words were repeated by none other than Yeosang

"Right, mind your business Song Mingi."

"I liked those two better when they were in the lab all the time." Mingi huffs, crossing his arms over his chest

"I'm back." Tahani enters the room moments later earning multiple greetings from her friends and a kiss from hongjoong.

"Ready for your checkup?" Eris sprung up from the couch followed by yeosang.

"Yup im ready to go doc." She responds in a cheerful tone before bidding the others a goodbye and giving hingjoong one more kiss before following the two of them out the door.

As always Yeosang and Eris connected all of the necessary wires and tubes to her body before carrying out their usual checkup scheme.

The only difference this time was Tahani was now going to get a much needed surgery that she knew nothing about.

"Yeosang can you look at this?" And their act finally began.

"What is it?" He asks as he makes his way over to the screen. Seeing how intently Yeosang looked at the screen, Tahani grew nervous.

"Uh something wrong?" She asks anxiously at her question both Yeosang and Eris share a look before looking back at Tahani.

"There's some type of flaw in your system, it may take a full reboot to get rid of it otherwise if it gets any worse it can cause some of your joints to lock up, if that happens this body will become just as useless as your old one would have been." Eris spoke seriously.

"Well if all it'll take is a reboot just get it done, I don't wanna risk whatever the flaw is getting any worse than it already is." At that both Yeosang and Eris low fived one another beneath the equipment table before making any moves.

"Alright it may take a couple of hours but it'll simply feel like you're just resting, taking a nap you know." After sedating her and putting her lower half in sleep mode Yeosang and Eris waited until they knew the girl was fully unconscious to start their work. It had taken hours for the microbots to fully regenerate the lost cells over her cyber mechanic exterior but by the time it had fully covered her outer shell the girl was still fast asleep due to the sidation. Eris and Yeosang decided it was best to let her rest.

Once again just as it had happened all those years ago Tahanis eyes fluttered open only to land on a ceiling of the Sector 1 infirmary. This time yet another thing was different about her body. As she pushed herself out of the bed still somewhat groggy from the previous sedation she stopped dead in her tracks once her eyes caught sight of a mirror out the corner of her eye. She was naked...and not like naked with her mechanical parts showing but actually naked. As her eyes took in the visual before her it felt like a dream. She hadn't seen herself this way in two years. The tears began to fall so effortlessly, and as she ran her fingers over her full flesh body she was surprised to feel her own touch. She could feel the warmth of her hands as they brushed against her small frame. Pulling the first thing she could find over her previously exposed body Tahani ended up walking out of the infirmary with a bed sheet wrapped around her from the chest on down. She quickly made her way down the halls, past the airlock, up the stairs and into the brand new hq building. Pushing past her very confused colleagues she sped up towards the building's staircase and ran all the way up to the building's rooftop.

Rain, she could feel the rain. As the cold droplets pelted her skin she stood staring out at the city allowing the sheet to soak up every drop of rain along with her tears. As the rooftop door slammed open Tahanis eyes shot over to Hongjoong who seemed somewhat startled by the girls appearance.

"Have you lost your damn mind running around in just this? I nearly choked Joshua to death when Leedo told me he'd been staring at you running through HQ in nothing but a damn sheet." Hongjoong nagged as he pulled one of his shirts over the girl's head, allowing her to drop the now soaked bed sheet.

She stares up at him with wandering eyes, feeling true happiness for the first time in such a long time.

"Umm...so I guess you saw, you can now go back to how things were before the ambush, I mean I know it may not be all you wanted because you still can't exactly have children but at least now you can." Cutting him off mid sentence she pulls him in by his shirt and kisses him before bringing her arms around his neck. His arms hooked around her waist and Tahani swore she couldn't have thought of a moment more perfect. She could feel it all, the cold rain trickling down their faces as they kissed, the warmth of his shirt and his body pressed against her bare skin. The way his arms around her waist caused the fabric to brush across her skin, she could finally feel it all.

"Its perfect, this is perfect." She smiles as they pull away from one another, still hugging him close to her body as her eyes scanned over their city and the setting sun.

(To those that made it this far please leave a comment so i know who to give all my love to. Thank you for going on this journey with ateez. I wrote this story so long ago and freely like it was time for me to finally post it to tumblr, and maybe start working on book 2)

[thevampirelevi]

Adventureland | Part IV

Masterlist

"Leviathan." (part 4/7)

cw: vampire!eddie x fem!reader, mentions of blood, mature language, parts of this chapter written in first person pov (briefly!)

wc: 6.6k+

You knew it wouldn’t take long for your aunt or uncle to actually phone up your dear old dad and casually drop your current location, thus blowing your whole cover. You weren’t sure what to expect, would they all be angry with you? Disappointed? Concerned maybe? Sympathetic to your desire to flee after perhaps your first ever heartbreak in life? All these possibilities played musical chairs in your head the entire month you were in Hawkins, but never once could you anticipate the possibility of going through another heartbreak when Judgement Day finally came. 

Maybe it was your lack of sleep or your low mood that raised suspicion in the first place and gave your aunt the motivation to finally clue your father in. Maybe they began planning your intervention when you’d begun to spend far too long cooped up inside of a room that isn’t truly your own. Maybe this was actually the universe’s doing, deciding to punish you once more in the ultimate cosmic “Fuck you.”

You’d actually decided that today was the day you’d be reborn, try to act as if nothing was wrong, forget you’d ever met Eddie. Blissfully unaware, you gave yourself a hot shower and tried to pick an outfit you’d really liked out of the remnants of your wardrobe. Tied up your laces, enthused to treat yourself to breakfast at the diner when you were suddenly met with a surprise waiting for you in the kitchen.

“Morning, I’m gonna go eat at Benny’s today-” you’d started to say, expecting only your aunt. 

You stop at the end of the staircase, all three members of your family staring back at you. 

“Surprise seeing you here,” says your father. “Take a seat.”

Hesitantly, you join them at the dinner table and take your silent settle, unsure of what to even try to say. Luckily for you, your aunt makes the next move as a way to cut through the tension that thickens the air. 

“Honey,” she places her mature hand over yours gently over the placemat. “Your uncle and I have been a little worried about you, so I called your father yesterday afternoon. Only for him to inform me that he was already looking for you and had no idea you were even here.” 

“Why didn’t you come home, or at least call Y/N?” he chimes in, his voice is stern and laced with concern and hints of anger. 

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “I was going to tell you all everything, I swear, but-”

Your father interjects, “But?”

“I just didn’t know where to start,” you sigh exasperatedly. “I still don’t. I needed some time. Just time to think, not answer everyone’s questions since I don’t quite know all of the answers yet myself.”

“Well,” a deep sigh above your father’s mustache is expelled as he exhales loudly from his nose. “Time’s up. Start talking.” 

You blink rapidly, trying not to cry, moistening your lips and swallowing the lump that forms in your throat. This is the first time you’ve actually been forced to fully face the intrusive thought of him and the events that transpired between the two of you the last time you shared a room. 

“Chance,” you start off slow, his name feeling foreign on your tongue. “We broke up.”

The room is quiet for a moment, processing. 

“On Valentine’s Day, actually.” you continue. 

Your aunt’s eyes, too similar to your mother’s, flitter with sympathy as she braves you a sad smile. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Before she can make claims about the population of fish in the sea, you go on. “I just grabbed all of my things and left. I didn’t want to think about him anymore and,” you look up for the first time, aiming your gaze at your father and his sorry expression as you address him specifically, “You always ask about him so I just wasn’t ready to go home, not yet.”

“Y/N,” your dad’s voice is soft now but still somewhat stern. “You could’ve told me, sweetpea. I’d have ripped him a new one when he came ‘round looking for you the other day, if I’d have known that…”

“That’s probably why she didn’t want to tell you,” your uncle speaks for the first time, chuckling. 

You halt, “Chance was looking for me..?”

Your father nods, wrinkles appearing in between his bushy brows. “Showed up on my doorstep asking for you, said you had a fight and that you took off. Guess he figured you came back home. Had me worried sick, I called nonstop for about two weeks, waiting for you to call home off some payphone in Timbuktu but you never did. I was this close to filing a missing person’s report when your aunt here finally rang me and said you were here.”

“I’m really sorry, dad,” you take your hands into your lap, pulling at a hangnail and avoiding meeting your father’s eyes. “I didn’t think he would show up, I never meant to make any of you worry.”

“Well you did,” your old man rises to his work booted feet and pulls you to yours, tears welling up his eyes that he tries to hide. “I know you’re an adult now n’ all, but you’re still my little girl. Don’t ever scare me like that again, y’hear me?”

“Yes sir,” you promise, muffled as you’re hugged to his chest.

“Good. So, when are you coming home?”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───── ⋆⋅˚ʚ♡ɞ˚⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Nancy Wheeler. She was the one condition keeping you from being dragged all the way back to Bloomington, at least that you and your father agreed upon. Albeit, now that your father was finally filled in on all of the details and knew not to speak a certain name, there wasn’t a logical reason to explain your reluctance on going back - but there certainly may have perhaps been an illogical reason. The lie? That you were finally reconnecting with some old friends and wanted to spend more time with them, and when put on the spot you could name none other than Nancy Wheeler. 

Not only was she one of the only people you knew of that was likely still in Roane County, but she was also one of your only friends that your father could actually remember by name. Once upon a third grade ago. 

It had been so long since you’d last been to her address, it was a mystery how you’d still remembered it. 2530 Maple Street, wherein resides your first order of business with your Pops off your back. 

You need only knock once, powder blue door answered by who you recognize to be Karen Wheeler. Older than in your memories and hair definitely lighter than the last time you’d seen her, but nevertheless the same woman you remembered from sleepovers, school bake sales, and parent conferences.

“Mrs.Wheeler?” 

The now blonde woman holds up her manicured hand in pause, looking you up and down, you watch her brain working. “Y/N?”

You smile, nodding. “That’s me.”

Karen’s jaw slacks open ever so slightly in surprise, but her cedar eyes light up enthusiastically. “Y/N honey, I haven’t seen you in a hot minute. Not since-”

“I’m back in town for a bit, figured I’d stop by and say hi.”

“Of course,” she smiles, showing more of her age. “Oh well, Nancy’s not home right now but maybe I can take your number? We’d love to have you over for dinner sometime.”

“Sure thing,” you answer, letting Mrs.Wheeler guide you inside of her suburban home. 

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───── ⋆⋅˚ʚ♡ɞ˚⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

‘Nancy Wheeler called’ was scribbled on a note stuck to the fridge come the 24th of March, just the day after your run in with her mother. You’d secretly hoped there was a different name written in Nancy’s place when you first spotted the sticky note, but remembered then that you never gave Eddie your number. 

Pleasantries were exchanged when you called Nancy back and you were now on your way to the recently rebuilt ‘Starcourt Mall’ to meet with her, the duration of your phone call short and sweet, similar to chatting up a receptionist. The nerves wriggling in your tummy had you hoping things would feel less awkward in person, that you could pick back up right where you left off, otherwise you might soon have no choice but to acquaint yourself with people that were not at your mother’s wake. Given how long that guestlist was, your mommy dearest evidently very much cherished by this town for the years she spent as one of their most beloved teachers, that would be rather difficult. 

‘Sam Goody’ was the store you’d both agreed to meet in, its location memorized as the spot adjacent to the Sears where you bought your mourning dress. Man, you thought as you retraced your steps all the way there, this whole town is starting to feel like a funeral. 

As if another Momento Mori, you look up to find that your respected Sam has now joined the list of dead things and is instead replaced by ‘Musicland.’ You never even got to enjoy their “going out of business!” sale.

Nancy sees you before you recognize her, denim jacket draped over her arm, greeting you with a fond smile under her grown out perm. 

“Hey, it’s so good to see you again,” the honey brunette pulls you in for an unexpected hug, voice now more womanly without the static of the landline and less shy than how you remember. “How are you?”

“Good, good. How are you?” you try to match her enthusiasm but the words feel slightly forced, mirroring the awkwardness of your encounter on the phone as you both relearn one another’s presence while the dust settles. 

“Been alright,” she says, beginning to slowly make her journey between vinyl shelves and various displays, feigning interest as she skims along. You follow her loosely. “I’m now an investigative journalist at Hawkins Post.”

“Wait, that’s so cool,” you beam earnestly, memories of a young Nancy playing pretend news anchor swarming to the surface. “Look at you, Nancy Drew.”

Wheeler picks up a ‘The Clash’ CD, flipping it to eyeball the tracklist. “It was indeed very cool, at first. Not much to write about nowadays, though.”

“No? I’d think there’d be plenty of stories to cover still, y’know since the earthquake wasn’t that long ago. Seems people are still tryna recover.”

Nancy stops reading, looking up at you blankly as she stills. “Earthquake?”

“Yeah…The quake of ‘86?”

She blinks a few times, showing no remembrance before she shakes her head. “Oh, yeah. Right. I’m more true crime than regular watchdogs, though, so I didn’t have my piece on writing about that.”

Conversation waxes and wanes as you both sift through Musicland and hop around other stores as well, making a brief trip to the food court, catching up as old friends do - or at least making the attempt to. 

With what very little spending money you have, you earn yourself that ‘Transformer’ album on vinyl, a leatherbound journal with a moonstone clasp, and an invitation to Hideaway Pub next weekend, courtesy of your old childhood best friend. 

You’re informed that her boyfriend Jonathan and friend Robin will both be there, and Nancy encourages you to bring someone of your own, too. 

The idea of the one person you’d want to bring makes your heart do its familiar little ache. 

Your first time at the bar, you’re too preoccupied with nerves from meeting new people to really get a good look around the place. You’d end up regretting that later. 

For now, though, you stand glued to the sidewalk as you stare at the wavering rhombus of the neon sign. You gather all of your courage in a breath, remembering that this is part of Nancy’s oath to being a better friend - being there for you like how she should have last year, her words - her now doing her damndest at making you feel included. As if she actually missed your presence in Hawkins. As a burly man holds the door open for you upon his own exit, you take your cue. 

Cozied up inside of the privacy of a dimly lit leather booth, tucked away from the peanut shelled bar thankfully, sits Nancy and who you guess is Jonathan. The chime from your entrance a mere few feet away puts a pause to their simple conversation and Nancy, the one facing you, smiles in your direction as she waves you over. 

You opt for the seat next to her, allowing you a curious gander of her boyfriend as she introduces the two of you. 

Robin arrives by the time your drinks have made their way to your table, wasting little time in telling all about how a ‘Steve’ is the reason she’s late. While Jonathan is notably shy, Robin speaks as if she’s known you just as long as she’s known the couple, skipping over the jargon of any introductions. You’re glad to have her here, saving you from third wheeling, and also finding that she’s an easy person to warm up to. 

You’re nearing the end of your once seemingly bottomless pile of potato skins when Nancy starts a conversation about her brother Mike, of which you smile fondly as your only memories feature the preschool aged version of him. 

“How is Mike by the way?” you ask, these being part of the few words you’ve spoken over the course of the night. “There’s so many people I haven’t seen in so long. Like Barb, I remember her from our sleepovers. How’s she doing??”

Despite you asking what you think are innocent questions, silence is your only response as Nancy’s face suddenly goes pale and all eyes turn to her. Obviously, you never meant any harm by it and never would have asked had you known somehow that the pair of childhood best friends had had a falling out. By the looks of it, a bad one at that, as you quickly find yourself stepping out of the booth to allow Nancy out as she rushes to the bathroom before you can even offer an apology, seemingly about to hurl. 

“Sore subject?” you ask quietly, fidgeting your fingers as you try to come to terms with possibly ruining the friend group you’d just barely had hopes of forming, wondering how you manage to keep doing and saying the wrong things. 

Jonathan nods, chin in hand as he rests his elbow on the table. “Not your fault, you don’t know. It’s just kinda hard for her to talk about still.”

Robin, perhaps having one too many beers and/or a low tolerance for cheap booze or just naturally outspoken in general, adds, “Barb’s unfortunately part of the list of people gone without a trace from what I know. No one saw what happened. If I lost my best friend like that, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself either.”

Not wanting to gossip, but letting your curiosity get the best of you anyways, you lean in closer with a hushed voice, “List of people..?”

Robin is too lost in her own thoughts as she thinks out loud to notice the looks Jonathan tries to send her, and he's too soft spoken to stop her from saying too much. “I mean, I’m not entirely sure it’d be better to find them down there after what could have got to them, but at least it’d be an actual answer.”

Deciding not to press the issue any further, given Jonathan’s apparent anxiety about the topic, you remain silent as you try to solve the puzzle with missing pieces inside your head just as Nancy finally returns. 

“Are we all ready to call it a night?” Her voice is soft, nothing in her tone indicating that she’s still upset. No one protests and you all begin to file out once the bill is paid two separate ways. You thank Jonathan for covering you and he mumbles something about “Don’t mention it.”

Robin is riding with Nancy and her boyfriend, beating them to the car as you walk to your own parked further down the street. You feel a soft hand stop you by your elbow. 

Nancy offers you a small smile, no harm no foul, “See you next weekend?”

You return the gesture, accepting, relieved. Despite now not having to question if you were going to be exiled, your mind still sashays like the hula dancer on your dash even the whole car ride home. Questions fill the unusual silence of your car. 

What did Robin mean by “List of people gone without a trace” and whatever else she said about finding them “down there after what could have gotten to them”?

Your first nightmare in weeks makes its prompt return this very same night, now arguably the price you must pay for allowing your curiosity about this increasingly strange town - and its even stranger people, and their secrets - to peak. It’s no surprise when you wake at three in the morning, equipped with new use of your new journal. 

March 31st

Fissures split the earth, scarlet glowing like ruby embers from the ravines and from the sky. People are running, abandoning their cars in what is left of the street as Doomsday approaches. The earth is divided in two, and then just as fast is severed by tenfold. Nameless people plummet to their deaths, passersby in the sea of people forced like magnets to the earth’s core against the flow of the stampede. 

A red haired girl no older than a teenager reaches her hand out to me, dangling off of the jagged edge of the street as she fights against being pulled under. I can see her umber eyes pleading behind the cracked lenses of her glasses. Just as I’m about to help her, the shock of a cold hand clasping onto my other wrist jerks me awake, alone. 

You fully intend on leaving the dream within its leatherbound confines and hope to use the rest of the flyleaf for grocery lists or something. You even keep busy as a means of distraction, helping your aunt and uncle run their motel for a small allowance and making due of your mileage the most you can between there and Wheeler’s house. Against your efforts however, you find yourself narrowly escaping dream death yet again. This time, ostensibly triggered by seeing Mike for the first time in years. Tall, lanky, and wearing a worn out t-shirt with fading iron-on letters just so barely spelling out ‘Hellfire Club.’ 

Not having brought your journal with you, because why would you, when your eyes snapped open to the darkness of Nancy’s bedroom, you tossed and turned in your makeshift bed as you lost all details of the dream to the start of a hangover. All details but one. 

Two black eyes like endless pits, flames dancing in their reflections, staring down at you. 

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───── ⋆⋅˚ʚ♡ɞ˚⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

April 11th

‘Welcome to Hawkins HELL. Population 001.’ The red paint graffiti’d on the road sign matches the hue of the sky, which I can see in all of the mirrors of my car and through the cracked windshield as I drive through a sea of bodies bloodied on the pavement. The radio is on, crackling with a distorted voice chanting, “MASTER, MASTER!”

Suddenly there are figures moving in my rearview mirror as the stereo switches its mantra. “LAUGHTER, LAUGHTER!” The figures only appear closer and closer as I fail to accelerate against the pile of corpses littering the road. They’re too tall for me to see anything above their shoulders, and too tall to be human, gray torsos moving like the bones are broken and limbs too long for their emaciated lich-like bodies like something out of Evil Dead. I can hear their groans fill my ears before suddenly, all goes quiet as my car dies and the radio fades away. “MASTER, Master, master…”

Just as I’m considering making a run for it, something pale makes itself known to me in my rearview mirror and its black eyes stare back at me beneath its mess of dark hair. This is the last thing I see before I wake up, feeling like I’m being watched still. 

April 13th

Sterile white walls surround me with only one, long rectangular mirror separating the scene. I see myself, gray and gaunt, a stream of crimson flowing in blood ribbons down my neck and soaking the starch hospital gown I am apparently wearing at the collar. Instinctively, I try to reach my hand up to touch it but find that my hand is fixed in place at my side as if I’m restrained. Looking down at said hand, I realize it is trapped by the cold, unmoving grip of a statue I hadn’t noticed before. Slowly, my eyes trail up the tall statue towards its face where I see it is made apparent that it is weeping blood from its blind eyes, which drips onto my neck. As I try to break free, I glance at the mirror whilst in the struggle at what I can only make out to be the sound of pebbles hitting the other side.

To my surprise, a devilish grin stares back at me. 

April 20th

A dark abyss is perforated by tiny flecks of starlight, which is where I’m floating when I hear a raspy voice pleading with me, “I can explain everything…

Suddenly the shout of your aunt’s voice from downstairs puts a bookmark to your writing. 

“Y/N,” she bellows. “Phone’s for you!”

You make your way downstairs, already knowing Nancy is waiting on the other line. The pair of you have grown pretty close over the course of the month, grief being the tide that brings you both together. You never pry, but sometimes Nancy volunteers to talk about Barb and gives small glimpses of what her life was like in the years you drifted apart. You however, you never speak about Chance, still have yet to tell her or a soul about your nightmares, and certainly are not yet ready to ever tell your friend about Eddie. That would one day change, but no time soon. 

“Hello?”

You hear shuffling in response. 

“Hey Y/N,” her voice is nonchalant in the way it usually is when she’s about to invite you out somewhere, of which you never decline. “You busy tomorrow?” 

You pause to think, even though it’s not like you’re drowning in plans, “I’m on innkeeper duty at the motel tomorrow morning, but I should be free by the afternoon?”

“Well a bunch of us are gonna set up a bonfire at the lake since it’s spring break for Mike and his friends. Wanna come?”

“Sure,” you answer without much thought except in hoping that it’s not Lover’s Lake that she’s inviting you to. 

“Cool, I’ll pick you up at around six.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───── ⋆⋅˚ʚ♡ɞ˚⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The rich smell of firewood wafts through the trees as your group of three - Nancy, Mike, and yourself - carry all of the party amenities to where everyone else is gathered at the shore. Jonathan brought his brother Will, and his friend Lucas - who brought his girlfriend - and there are several other faces for you to put a name to. Nancy helps, landing on ‘Max’ using the hand free of carrying a wicker basket to point at a redheaded girl sitting close enough to the fire for the glow of the flames to illuminate the bare skin on her freckled arms.

You try not to stare, noticing how the girl seems to fold in on herself as if trying to shrink away from your small crowd of (new) friends. You notice the scars on her arms and some on her legs, straight and precise raised pink keloids, surgical. The glasses she wears even as the sun is setting hide the fact that she was curious about you, too. 

Soon enough, the circle of incongruent lawn chairs is filled around the firepit. Half full of people you at least somewhat know, and the other half of people you’re only learning the names of today. To your left is Robin, who’s sat next to who you now know as Steve, and sat to your right is a babyfaced teen named Dustin. The curly haired boy sneaks glances at you all night, which makes you wonder if you know him from somewhere. Despite how extroverted he acts toward the rest of the group, though, he does not utter one word to you. 

Several campfire stories later and a belly full of marshmallows cooked in a myriad of different doneness, you’re on aching feet ready to go home and recharge your social battery. You and Robin are helping Nancy lug her belongings back to her car when a boyish voice stops you. 

It’s Dustin, mustering up the words to finally ask the question he’d apparently been unable to sit still with all night. “Your name is Y/N, right..?”

You turn his way and nod, waiting for him to continue. 

“And you’re friends with Eddie?”

In one single second you’re feeling all of the color drain from your face at once, except at the apples of your numb cheeks. For some reason you have the sudden urge to run. 

But this time you don’t. You instead face his ghost, the sheer mention of his name that brings on a wave of unwanted thoughts, head on. You do your best to act unfazed, thinking that maybe you can fake it until you make it. “Don’t know him,” you shrug, catching up with Robin and leaving whatever Dustin’s reasoning was behind. 

Why is it becoming harder to get over a man that you barely even knew, over your ex boyfriend of two years? 

Maybe because it wasn’t Chance who you were looking for in crowds of people, getting Deja Vu from anyone who even slightly resembled him. It wasn’t Chance’s name you kept hearing, nor saying in your sleep. It wasn’t Chance who you dreamt of nearly every night. 

Tonight, it was Eddie. Your journal sat in its rightful place on your nightstand, waiting for you when you woke up calling out his name again. 

April 21st

Waves crash into my chest as I wade in darkness, my dreamself having no sense of the temperature, just only slightly the sensation, as faint as a blanket slipping off in the night. I have the feeling that I’m waiting for something or someone, as I find myself mumbling mid sentence as if there was anyone around to hear it, “I told you, it’s never too late…”I trail off, the fabric of the dream slowly unraveling as I start to question where I am and who I’m talking to. I turn my head in every direction, searching for the answer. 

When I finally look down into the water, I see a ring of light shine through the pool of black surrounding me. The glow is red, unnatural and unforgiving, reminding me of the persistence of a neon sign even meters below the surface of the water. It puzzles me, but this somehow leads me to the conclusion that I’m in Lover’s Lake. The light is almost, maybe, heart shaped.

Just then, a ring clad hand snakes around my ankle, pulling me under. 

For perhaps the first time ever since your acquired sleep apnea, and much to your surprise, you find yourself being rapidly lulled back to sleep. You hold your head up only long enough to jot down your first dream before a thick blanket of exhaustion smothers you out like a light. The last thing you see before you’re watching the back of your own eyelids is the glowing red of the alarm clock. 11:11pm.

This time, however, you’re aware that you’re dreaming the very moment your feet reach the ground. You almost have the feeling that you know exactly where you are as you step away from under a head of clouds aglow in the scarlet sky above you. You find a clearing in the forest enclosing you with ease, floating through time as you come face to face with the Motel 6 a mere few feet later.

The only source of light here forward illuminates the ‘No��� of the vacancy sign, sputtering for a moment before it gives out. The only car in the parking lot is your station wagon. You walk up to it, having to put a hand over your squinting eyes as you try to peer through the grime on the driver’s side window. Cobwebs have made a nest of your steering wheel and a thin blanket of dust and debris covers the upholstery of your seats. Your ignition is rusted over and the dancing hula girl on your dashboard is missing her head. 

You turn around and wander back through the trees from which you came. When you emerge from the forest this time, you’re in front of your childhood home. The front door is cracked open and you can tell that no one is home as you enter the darkness inside with a creak.

Particles float through the cold air as you analyze what was once your home. Dust has fallen on nearly every surface like snow, but when you go to pick up what should be a family photo you find only your parents in the picture. 

You nearly tear apart the whole place, turning the entirety of the second story upside down in search of nothing in particular, but come up empty handed regardless. No princess bedroom like how you’d left it, no pictures of you on the walls, not even a nursery. Just your parents’ bedroom and ensuite bathroom; a study where your room should be. 

You nearly come flying down the stairs and out the front door, making a beeline back to the forest. You clear the entire woods in just a few steps, born out the other end staring at a sign covered in large vines that reads “Forest Hills Trailer Park.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───── ⋆⋅˚ʚ♡ɞ˚⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

By the next time you’re out with your newfound friends for a much needed break, Robin is the first to point out just how tired you look - much to your dismay. 

“Jesus Y/N, you getting any sleep?” asks the tallest member of your party, now that Jonathan’s decided to sit this one out. 

“Rob,” Nancy scolds her friend, shooting her a look. 

You shrug your shoulders, unable to fight the yawn that escapes your lips, “She’s right. I’m practically a member of the undead these days.”

“You okay?” asks Nancy. 

“Yeah, I mean, I’m fine.” This is when you decide to actually confide in your friends for once, hoping to put the nightmares to rest if you talk about it. “I’ve just been having these really weird dreams? Or nightmares, I guess.”

“Nightmares?” Robin echoes. “What about?”

You can feel Nancy studying you closely, no longer interested in her food. You choose your words carefully, deciding not to mention him just in case the pair before you might know of him. “Apocalyptic shit. Sometimes there will be these really strange monsters, or sometimes I’m in like a completely abandoned version of Hawkins. I dunno.”

“Monsters?” both women ask at the same time, staring. 

You laugh, “Maybe I never got over my fear of the Boogeyman,” you wipe your hands and throw the crumbled napkin onto your now finished plate, standing up from the booth. “Don’t judge.”

You glance over your shoulder a single time as you make your way to the bathroom, spotting Nancy and Robin muttering amongst themselves. You decide not to dwell on it, excusing yourself out of the way of a woman exiting the ladies’ room. Right when you’re about to enter behind her, your eyes focus on a particular poster on the wall between the two restrooms as she moves out of the way, a familiar face catching your eye. 

MISSING PERSON.

EDWARD MUNSON. 

Also known as “Eddie.”

20 years old —-- 5’10” —-- 145lbs.

Last seen: March 21st-

You rush inside of the bathroom before reading any further, drowning in your thoughts all too quickly within seconds already as you try to process what you’d just read. Hands bracing the sink, your reflection scares you as you stare back all wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. You attempt to turn the words over in your mind multiple times in an effort to make sense of them,

MISSING PERSON.

EDWARD MUNSON.

You see the image over and over again in your head, knowing that it’s him. 

MISSING PERSON. EDWARD MUNSON. Also known as “Eddie.”

His hair was a few inches shorter in that picture than when you’d last seen him, but everything else was all the same. Same doe eyed brunette that you’d last seen. Last seen in March. 

You stand there unsure of what to do, wondering for a second if this was the start of a panic attack similar to the one Nancy might have been subjected to when you mentioned Barb. 

Robin’s words suddenly echo in your mind. “The list of people gone without a trace.”

When you finally return to the table, you make it known that you’re ready to call it quits but without actual intention of going home just yet. 

You’re repeating the details you’d skimmed on your way out and in as you start up your car. Residence: Forest Hills Trailer Park. That was the place you’d seen in your dream.. If you have any information, please contact Wayne Munson. 

The sun is setting as you drive closer and closer to the trailer park, unsure if it’s your shot nerves or eyes blurry with tears that threaten to spill - not only does the place look eerily similar to how you’d dreamt it, but you could also swear you see Max, the redhead from the bonfire. You’re certain that it’s her as she comes fully into view and she stops walking at the sound of your tires pulling up nearby behind her. 

You park your car and exit the vehicle, hurriedly making your way towards the girl. “Max?”

She does not move, even once you reach her. 

“Um, hi I’m Y/N. I was at the lake, with Nancy?” you state to the back of her head. 

The girl finally turns around slowly, letting you notice the cane she holds for the first time. Her eyes are cloudy, milky white and darting back and forth constantly in apparent nystagmus. You’re too shocked to say anything else. 

“Yeah?” her quiet voice speaks finally, as if the recognition has dawned on her, she looks straight at you. 

“I-Um,” you shut your eyes and exhale, starting over. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Wayne Munson is, would you?”

Despite how ridiculous you suddenly feel for asking, Max turns ever so slightly and points directly to a trailer across the way as if blessed with vision. “That’s his new trailer.”

“Thank you,” you declare earnestly. 

Your heart banging against your eardrums, you make your way over to the trailer with the truck parked in front. Your feet drag as you amble up the stairs, and you notice something moving the blinds in one of the windows farthest from you out of the corner of your eye. At least someone’s home, you think. Stomach dropping under the heavy weight of dread, you raise an equally heavy fist to knock on the door. 

After several clicks, the door creaks open ever so slightly ajar to an older man with sharp blue eyes and a graying beard as he watches you cautiously from behind it, muttering a greeting with a gruff voice. 

You clear your throat, eyes misty already. “Wayne Munson?”

“Yes?” The man’s voice is low, almost a whisper. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was afraid of you. “Who are you?”

“My name is Y/N, um,” your voice is smaller than you intend, tired of having to introduce yourself. “I am- I was friends with your nephew, Eddie…When did he..When did he go missing?”

The man squints, deepening the wrinkles around his eyes. He opens the door fully now, casting away the shadows that were looming over his face. “Eddie’s fine,” he states matter of factly. 

It takes a second too long for his words to hit your brain, you were expecting the worst. Rarely ever are you wrong about that, especially these days, or so you thought. 

You’re unsure of letting out the breath you’re holding, “He’s- He’s fine?”

“Yes,” the man nods a single time, his expression just as puzzled as yours. “If you saw a poster or somethin’ my apologies, those are old. He’s been home for quite some time now.”

Finally, you breathe. “Oh. Is he home right now..?”

Wayne hesitates to answer, stepping back from the threshold and looking towards his right for a few moments. “Uh, no..He’s not, sorry.”

You know he’s lying, but you don’t test him. You take this as your final sign to let go, clearly you are unwanted. Your brain practically ran with the story of him being abducted or worse, instead of just coping with the fact that maybe he was just avoiding you. 

You vow to never smoke tree ever again. 

“Oh, okay,” you keep your tone chipper as you turn to leave. You will not cry. “Thank you.”

You’re making your way to where your car is parked, hands shaking and a gloomy overcast darkening the evening as it slowly begins to rain. You let one single tear fall, disguised by the raindrops. As you pivot to seat your body behind the wheel, you see a second door opening in the trailer you’d just left. You stop behind your open car door. 

Running so fast he’s nearly dodging falling rain is none other than ‘Edward Munson.’

Before you know it, the man is pulling you into his cold embrace as he breathes your scent deep into his lungs, leaving you florid and stammering. Butterflies choke up every word you want to say and he can feel your heart beating against his ribs, electrified. 

Finally he moves away, but only ever so slightly, barely leaving room for rain to fall between you. 

“I’m sorry,” his voice is raspy, strained. “I just have to try something."

You notice his hands are trembling as he opens and closes his balled up fists before finally using his cold hands to close the gap between your bodies. 

One hand at your cheek as your warm blood rushes to it, the other cold at your neck, rings pressing into your skin ever so slightly. He’s gentle with his hands but his lips crash into yours, hungry and practically burning with desire, leaving yours buzzing. You can’t help but to melt into him, touch starved yourself. You’re clearly not as famished as he is, though, a small whimper leaving him as you put your hand to his chest briefly just as you begin to run out of air. 

Finally he breaks away from you, you gasping, his eyes as dark as always but soft looking down at you - like graphite. The boy looks pained, almost. Lips and cheeks flushed. 

“Sorry,” he repeats sincerely, for multiple reasons. 

“Where were you?” the sadness in your voice makes his unmoving heart break, if only it could. 

Eddie’s cold breath fans your face as he exhales, still holding you to him. “I’ve been keeping something from you… But I just can’t stay away from you anymore.”

“What do you-” before you can get all of the words out, his lips are hugging yours again, shutting you up. He's all around you; the smell of his clothes, his grasp, his body, his kiss, all eclipsing you.

The man is quicker this time to remember you still need to breathe. He parts from you slowly, eyes still closed. You watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows, dark lashes even wispier against the hollows of his undereye as rain cascades down his pale cheekbones - making him look like a weeping angel. 

His pink lips part. “I’m a vampire.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───── ⋆⋅˚ʚ♡ɞ˚⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

an: sooo sorry this part got delayed so many times! honestly, i'm not totally loving this story anymore. i'll def still finish but i just wanna say that any constructive criticism is always welcome <3

p.s.

max is only partially blind :3

- levi

[expired-bat]

we met in september - chapter 7

heyyyyy sorry for being gone for 2 months!!!!! i just started my final year of high school (woohoo!!!!!!!!) and school's been kicking my ass in writers block :( but ive finally picked up some inspo and im back!!! (for now) enjoy this new chapter and sorry if its shitty :))

also tw for suggestive content ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Nothing exciting happened today at school. Other than that, the duo have arranged to meet up at Dee’s place. He said that he, Heavy, and his dad would be the only ones home, and that his dad is in his study most of the time. Y/N was fine with this.

At the end of the day, the duo met up with Heavy to head to the brother’s residence. The ginger was chatting around with Y/N while Dee was on his phone listening to music. Heavy asked many questions, like where they came from, what their home is like, etc. She responded the best she could, and Heavy let out surprised responses.

“You like Slayer too?! Kick-ass!” he exclaimed. Y/N wouldn’t say she was a major fan, but Heavy was glad that someone had some “good” music taste.

The trio arrived at the large Victorian-esque estate; gloomy and dark, Y/N’s dream home. The wood was painted dull blue, the fences were spiked and all living life was dead. She was in awe with what she was seeing. The architecture and flora were arranged perfectly.

Dee took out his keys and unlocked the door. The three teens entered the home, and Y/N was still in shock at the condition of the brothers’ home. The furniture and decorations were goth-like and it felt like home. Y/N had to admit that she was jealous. Where she is staying currently and her place back at home looked nothing like it besides her bedroom.

The blond placed his keys on the holder that says “Metal Family.” 

“Whoa,” Y/N wondered, “Where did you get that key holder?”

Dee responded, “My mom made it.”

“That’s awesome! Does she-”

A loud creak of a door is heard, a tall figure emerging out of a dark room. There stood a tall blond man with a cold stare. It reminded Y/N of someone…

The girl was intimidated by him, taking a step back and stood behind Dee. She shook; is that the same guy that-

“Dad, what are you doing?”

The man winced at his son’s voice and looked at the trio, a fighting grin emerging. “Hello Dee, Heavy. Just taking a break from the study.” 

He then noticed Y/N.

“Are you one of my sons’ little friends?” he asked.

Y/N swallowed the little saliva on her mouth. He looked way too frightening. It’s not only his height that frightens her, but the bright, glowing eyes and that damn smile. She tried with all of her might to get a sound out of her.

“Dad, this is Y/N. She’s the exchange student people have been talking about. We’re going to be studying together.” the dark prince replied for her. Y/N felt relieved.

He took a closer look at her, then his face lit up. “Ah! You’re the girl who was lost at the airport three weeks ago! It’s nice to meet you again Ms. Y/N!” 

…That’s his dad?

“Y-Yeah, that's me. Thank you for helping me Mr…?”

“Glam.” he continued smiling.

“Yes, Glam…”

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

“Anyways! I gotta log in to beat that damn Antov’s winning streak!!” Heavy squaked before he dashed to his room. Dee went upstairs and Y/N soon followed. She felt watched, and this time, it was from Glam.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Y/N and Dee enter the boy’s room; there was little light and it looked organized yet cozy. The bed was made, clutter was in its places, and the floor was nearly empty besides a rug and some shoes. The teens put their bags down.

Dee rummaged through his messenger back, taking out the notes for history, both his and Y/N’s.

“Some of the information is either irrelevant to the presentation or myths, but other than that, your notes are good.”

Good. He said that his notes are good.

“Now, onto your little project.” Dee continued.

Y/N jumped and pulled out the thick paper, a pencil, and a textbook for a flat surface. “It’s just a portrait. Just sit down and I’ll sketch it out.”

Dee sat on the desk chair, fixing his posture and his hair. Y/N began her sketch. The markings of the granite stick echoed through the room and filled in its silence. She continued to look at the blond, then back to the dark marks. She had to make this as accurate as possible.

A few minutes would pass before another sound would come out, this time coming out from Dee. “What medium are you going to choose for this?” he asked

“Probably oil. Many portraits are made out of them, so might as well go along with it.” Y/N replied.

The boy hummed in agreement. He knows a bit about visual art, the mediums, color theory, and art history, but is not much of an artist himself. As to quote his father, he has no musical or artistic talent.

An hour would pass until Y/N would be satisfied with the final sketch. She let out a relieved sigh and put the paper and pencil down.

Dee relaxed, then looked at the artist; she stretched her back and arms and let out a soft groan. Her shirt lifted up, exposing a bit of her stomach. Her soft fishnet thighs squished on the dark rug. He could’ve sworn he saw her-

Look away!!!

He couldn’t believe those thoughts ran into his head! Fucking hormones!!

“Do you know where the bathroom is?” she asked.

“... It’s the first door to the left.”

She got up from the floor and exited his room. Dee sighed, covering his heated face, He swore that he felt his jeans tighten.

Ignoring that, he looked at the sketch; it looked too fucking real, something straight out of a camera but it’s not. It was completely made from her hands. Internally, he was full of glee and couldn’t believe that he was this lucky. He quickly took out his phone and took a photo of the sketch. He’s planning on printing it out and keeping it on his wall.

He couldn’t hear the girl’s heavy footsteps, too focused on the details on the paper.

“Do you like it?”

Dee looked up to see the girl above him. His face flushed and looked back at the drawing. He let out a soft smile.

“I love it.”

Absolute word vomit. Dee realized what he said and immediately covered his mouth. He then looked at Y/N, flustered at his words. She fumbled her hands and looked away from him. 

“Thank you…”

She’s so cute.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Unfortunately, Y/N had to go home. She said her goodbyes to her friend, his brother, and father. When Dee closed the door after she was far, far away, his world darkened. It was all back to normal and he hated it. Heavy was screaming out words that are definitely not gamer-friendly, mom was fixing her bike, and dad was fixing up dinner. Dee pulled out his phone and looked at the photo of the sketch. He zoomed in to focus on the little details; the speckle of freckles and moles on his face, the small parts of frizzy hair sticking out, and the smudge of his eye makeup.

Is this how she looks at him? Is he really that beautiful? Of course not, she’s doing the most realistic thing. Hell, she even got his thick eyebrows and resting-bitch face correctly!

He put his phone away and trotted back to his room. He flopped on his ready-made bed, destroyed by his lithe body. Dee stared at the ceiling for what seemed to be eons, until his dad called for dinner.

All he could think about right now was her.

[kookingtae]

falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!

Jungkook could never face Y/N again.

God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?

Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.

But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.

Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.

But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.

He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.

As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—

Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.

He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.

While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.

He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.

“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.

Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.

She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”

The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.

And so he stopped fighting.

“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.

Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.

“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.

“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.

Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.

And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.

Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?

The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.

He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.

At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.

Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.

He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.

The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.

It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.

“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?

She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”

As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.

You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.

But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.

“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.

Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”

“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”

You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.

“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”

You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”

Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.

A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.

You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.

But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.

Unless…

Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?

Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.

“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”

And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.

If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.

You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.

“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.

[tomtenadia]

Remember Us - 7

I know we are in full Rowaelin month but I thought to give you part 7 as a present...

There is a small library scene in perfect theme with Day 4. (This is not part of Rowaelin month. Just a coincidence)

The chapters are getting less angsty. As I mentioned in a post a few days ago... i Finished the story and it has 10 parts. That was the original plan and I promise a HEA

-------

Rowan had spent the entire day going through all of their albums. Evalin had offered to look after Freyja, but instead he had kept the girl in his arms while sitting on the carpet and and album in front of him.

He had just finished the one about Thomas and now opened the one dedicated to his daughter. They were both still a working in progress as it looked like Aelin would just record the stages in their lives.

“Look, who is this one?” The little girl pointed at the picture and babbled something.

“This is you.” He told her in a loving tone “the most precious thing in our lives with your brother.”

“You did it, Fireheart.” Rowan kissed the head of an exhausted Aelin, while the doctors were busy cleaning and checking on their daughter.

The nurse walked to them with a bundle in her arms and gave it to Aelin “I think your daughter is ready to meet you.” And placed the baby on Aelin’s chest.

Rowan sat at her side, his arms around her shoulder as he drew closer his two women.

“She is like you, Ro.”

He kissed her forehead “I love you both. Madly.”

In another photo he saw Thomas in the hospital bed near her mother, kissing his sister head and the caption read Thomas is officially a big brother and he finally gets to meet his sister. 

“ ‘Mas” babbled Freyja, pointing at the photo.

“Yes, that is your brother.”

Page by page he followed his daughter life and as it happened for Thomas, some moments became familiar all of a sudden.

Looking at photos had been a great idea but with Aelin’s captions had been even better as it was as if someone was actually telling him the story.

He looked at a couple of more albums but then he felt an headache coming and his vision was getting tired as well, so he grabbed Freyja and went to lie down on the sofa, making sure that she was tucked in safely between him and the back of the sofa. Evalin was busy doing chores around the house. He pulled the little girl to his chest and he started humming a tune while his hand caressed her head.

Not long after they were both asleep.

Evalin appeared back in the living room not long after and when she saw the scene in front of her she almost cried. Then she took her phone and snapped a picture and sent it to Aelin Your husband and your daughter are having some quality time together.

*

“How’s the study session going?” A younger Rowan paused beside a table in a university library.

The blonde woman in front of him groaned in exasperation “med school. Of all the degrees I choose from, I went for the worst one.” Her head collapsed heavily on the books in front of her “I want to be a neurosurgeon, I don’t care about the kidneys. Why am I studying this crap?”

Rowan smiled and placed a cup of coffee on the table “you need caffeine.”

Aelin lifted her head “yes, in IV.” She extended her arm and Rowan chuckled “you are the doctor, you will have to perform that on yourself.” He laughed and patted her head “I can tell you the legal repercussions of me performing such a procedure without a licence.”

Aelin grabbed her coffee and drank avidly “smartass.”

“A smartass you love?”

“Keep dreaming, Whitethorn.”

When he woke up again he was not ready for the splitting headache. He tried to sit up but dizziness hit him hard and then a wave of nausea. He jumped off the sofa but crashed on the carpet. Rowan fought to stand up but his body refused to obey “Evalin,” he croaked, grabbing his head in his hands.

A moment later Evalin was at his side “Rowan, are you okay?”

He crashed back down on the carpet and groaned. Evalin slowly helped him to sit back up and she felt panic rise “I should call Aelin.”

“No,” said Rowan in a whisper as he stood shakily and sat at the opposite side of the sofa away from his sleeping daughter. He should not be around the kids. No one should be around him while he was in that state.

And in that instant nausea hit again and he grabbed his stick and slowly dragged himself to the bathroom, collapsed on the floor and emptied the content of his stomach in the toilet.

***

Aelin had just finished surgery when she noticed the worried text from her mother. Rowan was not well.

She changed from the scrubs, paged her second, told him she had a family emergency and that she had to go back home. They all knew her situation and he was understanding. She had finished her surgeries for the day so finishing early was not much of an issue.

She drove home with her heart racing with panic. She knew the complications after a brain injury and she was worried. Her mother had not specified what happened but her tone seemed frantic.

Once in front of the house she parked quickly and once in the house she found it quiet. Her mother was sitting on the sofa reading to Freyja and Thomas was on the carpet playing with his toy cars.

“Where is he?”

Evalin looked up at her “in bed. He was sick, complaining of strong headaches and he said he was tired.”

Aelin dropped her backpack and ran for the bedroom and found him asleep.

She walked to him and sat at his side at the edge on the bed and slowly caressed his head. Her strong, amazing husband looked fragile, tucked in bed and sleeping on his side. The time in the hospital had left his mark and his frame was now thinner. Her hand ran through his hair once again and then deposited a gentle kiss and in that instant his eyes popped open as she chastised herself for it.

“Hi you,”

“Hi,” his voice gruff “you are home.”

“Mum texted me that you were not well.”

He tried to sit up but Aelin kept him down “you need to rest. What are your symptoms?”

Rowan’s head collapsed back on the pillow “headache, dizziness and nausea.”

Aelin’s hand was in his hair again “it’s normal. From one to ten, how bad is the headache?”

“Seven.”

She stood and came back a moment later with a glass of water and a tablet “Just a light dose to help you a bit.”

Rowan took the water and the medicine and once he was done Aelin lay down at his side, snuggling  close to him, her hand on his chest. Rowan’s arms as if on instinct went around her frame but did not hug her tight. He had no energy.

“I dreamt…” he closed his eyes for a second “I dreamt of us in the library. You were complaining about your degree and kidneys,” he told her softly “I brought you coffee.”

Aelin chuckled against his chest. She did remember exactly the day “that was when I started to fall for you.”

“Tell me,” he said, his lips brushing her hair.

“Somehow you had memorised my schedule,” she began her tale “so you would pop up in the library and keep me company studying. You with your laws and me with my crazy med stuff.” She looked up at him and found her husband staring at her “during my anatomy exam you offered to be my skeleton and I revised on you.” She flicked his nose and the gentle flinch of his nose reminded her so much of him, his usual reaction “At the end of a crazy exam you brought me cake and once my session of exams was over you asked me out.”

Rowan gave her a weak smile and she could see the tiredness in his face “you asked me to move in with you on my birthday and my present were the keys to your flat. I moved out of mine the next day and Aedion moved in with Lysandra and took my place.”

“Are we good friends with them?” He asked with interest. So far they had never discussed their friends and he thought it was time to try.

Aelin nodded “Aedion is my cousin. Lys and I were flatmates and she is my best friend.” Her hand brushed his hair once again, the gesture was relaxing and Rowan seemed to enjoy it too, his features much more relaxed “then we have Lorcan and Elide and the six of us kinda form a nice tight group.”

“Do they know about my condition?”

Aelin nodded “I explained to them and the only reason they haven’t visited is because I knew it was going to be too much so I told them to wait.”

“Thank you,” he said softly while his hand brushed her back “I can’t just yet.”

Aelin nodded again and his expression morphed as if he wanted to ask her something but hesitate. His hand moved “can I?” And Aelin knew what he meant. She took his hand and pushed it under her t-shirt and on her tiny baby bump “I don’t know yet if it’s a girl or a boy. I have a check up in two weeks and will see if we can find out the sex.”

His thumb moved gently as if to greet their child with his free hand he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said a bit too quietly.

“I should let you rest,” Aelin tried to move but his hand grabbed her writs and pulled her back down against him. He had been enjoying that moment they had shared. His arms went around her frame and pulled her to him. 

“You love to cuddle.”

“Do I?” He told her rising an eyebrow.

“Sometimes when mum takes the kids we do enjoy a lot of naked, adult cuddling.”

Rowan’s heart raced in terror “I am not…” he stopped “I can’t yet.”

“Shh…” said Aelin, placing a gentle finger on his lips “We are not doing anything you do not want to do.” She told him with love.

He pulled her even closer and tucked her head under his chin, and the position felt familiar all of a sudden, her scent enveloping his nostrils. Everything about her felt familiar, the shape of her body against his, her scent, they way she fit perfectly in his arms.

They were in silence for a moment until two small cyclones joined them.

“Dad.” Shouted Thomas quite loudly and Rowan groaned, his head not appreciating the decibels coming from his son.

“Quiet, Tom, dad is not well.”

The little boy zipped his lips and climbed in bed. Freyja padded to her father’s side and extended her arms in a gesture to be picked up. Rowan turned and lifted his daughter in his arms and pushed her under the blankets with Thomas and Aelin joined them a moment later.

“We are keeping company to dad but we need to be quiet. Can we do that?”

Thomas nodded eagerly and Freyja kept sucking on her pacifier. The little girl climbed on her father chest and Rowan rolled on his back to help her curl up properly. Thomas was tucked in at his side and Aelin’s arm reached over and enveloped them.

“Sorry, they really missed you.”

Rowan shook his head “this feels really nice and normal.”

Aelin smiled and brushed Thomas’ hair “believe me on a weekend it is, and if I am not working the four of us love a long morning in bed together.”

He chuckled and loved the image “What about the names?”

Aelin grabbed Freyja’s hand in her and kissed it “Thomas was a character in a sci-fi series that we both love. He is an Admiral and quite amazing. He is actually my fictional husband. Freyja, we took it from a mythology book.”

Rowan laughed “so I have competition.”

“Can you be an admiral?”

“I order you to kiss me, soldier.” Rowan felt a smile tug at his lips and Aelin stared at him with fondness. Then leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his lips.

“Bleah,” said Thomas in protest. Aelin stamped a big kiss on his cheek “feeling better now?” And the boy grinned and climbed down from the bed “lego.” And he ran away.

Aelin sighed “he has a lot of energy.” And now that her son space had been vacated she scooted closer to Rowan and her hand was on the girl’s back on top of Rowan’s.

“I love the kids. It’s been only a few days but I love them madly already.” He whispered looking down at his sleeping daughter. Then back at Aelin and for a brief moment he saw sadness in her eyes. Loving the kids had been easy. His feelings for her were far more complicated. He felt something but could not put a name on it yet.

“With you is…” he paused, searching for the right words. He had caused enough pain already “complicated. There is something, I can feel it, but I don’t know if it’s just the memories or my actual feelings.” His hand ran through his hair “I don’t know how to explain it clearly.”

Aelin kissed his forehead tenderly. For as much as she wanted her husband back, she was not going to rush him. He would need time and she was willing to wait. She had waited at his bedside for so long to have him awake again that she was happy to take even the small acts of affection he was willing to give her.

“I want you to have your husband back, and I am trying…”

“Shhh…” she said to him, a gentle kiss on his lips “I have him back, and I can see more of him coming back everyday. You don’t realise it but he is there.” She patted his chest “My husband is right here in my arms.”

Rowan’s hand grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to him for a fierce kiss. Aelin melted at the contact. The kiss felt like coming home and for a moment it swept away all her fears.

“Does your husband kiss you like that?” The smirk on his face and his playful tone was him and she pulled back, coming up for air. 

“Seems like you remember this part very well.”

“It does help that my wife is stunning.”

Aelin smiled. He had called her his wife. Had he accepted his life? Had he accepted them?

She looked at him in his pine green eyes looking for an answer.

“Yes.”

[ajbwasntwriting]

Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 7. Home Sweet Home

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The quest for relevant gifs continue as we begin this chapter with a cheeky little flashback. Hope you all had a happy end of 2020 and may all your 2021 goals come to fruition.

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

The school bell rang. All the kids packed up their things and got into a line to walk out the school to their parents. You were told to always take the back of the line, that way when all the other kids walked out the door to meet their parents, you could break off and run down to the teacher’s cafeteria. You’d stand outside the door and fifteen minutes later your father would arrive, usually with another two teachers in tow. Everyday you’d see him round the corner then drop your bag and sprint your little legs down to him. He’d pick you up in his arms and place a big kiss on your cheek.

“How was your day princess? Did you give Janet a hard time?” he’d ask, to which you’d always shake your head no. He’d smile at you before placing you back on the ground, then you’d run back to your bag and your father would bring you back to his classroom where he taught other kids. He’d correct work for a bit while you did your homework, usually at a desk far too big for you but it was still easier then the kitchen table.

After you had finished your homework your father would let you pull out pencils and paper and draw until either he had finished his corrections or it was time to go. It was 1985 and you were strapped into the backseat of your father’s car with ‘Out Of Touch’ on the radio. You were six years old and living the high life in the back of your daddy’s car on the way to your suburban house where your mom was cooking pasta for dinner after a long-shift at 7/11.

You woke up when the light hit your eyes, stirring you from the peaceful childhood dream of speeding down the country rode while The Bangles sang out. You were lying on a hard bed in what looked like a med-bay made out of an office. Realisationed hit you like a truck that this was the Sanctuary and you shot up, immediately regretting it when everything started to hurt.

“Woah Woah, easy.” A man chided as he jumped to your side, grabbing you by the shoulders to stop you from getting out of the bed. You yelled at him to get off you as you swung at him, sending him backwards. In a moment another two were on you, a man and a woman.

“Tie her before she pulls out her IV!” the woman yelled. The first man stood up and began strapping you in using broad leather straps while the other two put their weight on you.

You struggled as best you could, still exhausted and something heavy on your leg. “Let. me. Out!” you yelled as you pushed against the bonds.

“Get Daryl” one of the women commanded, the second man running out. “Try not to pull that IV out. We can’t patch you up if you do.” she commented, walking around to tend to the man you punched. At this angle you could see the four barred tattoos on her neck. You recognised her, but it seemed she didn’t recognise you. Or at least wasn’t saying anything.

“What are you gonna do to me?” you asked, trying to hide your fear. The man glared at you from where he sat on another hospital bed, his eye turning bruised.

“Nothing.” The woman commented. “Bosses orders” the man scoffed at that, earning a slap to his chest by the woman.

“What? You actually think Daryl is the boss. Negan had him putting dead ones on the fence! He should still be doing that!” the woman punched him in the chest

“Knock it off,” she chided “Unless you wanna get punished”

“He doesn’t do that shit” the man grumbled.

“Do you wanna be the reason he starts doing it?” You couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe it was your nerves at the situation but their banter was completely unexpected. She turned around and looked at your tied down giggling figure. “What’s so funny!?”

“You sound like his mom” you turned your head to look at them as you spoke, a smile on your face.

“She bitches like the old hag too” the man chirped, earning a more playful slap from the woman. This was good, the tension was being lifted if only slightly.

“Sorry for punching you. New surroundings, ya know.” you piped up, hoping to take advantage of the tension drop.

“Yea well, you're not getting out of those belts” the man retorted, nodding towards the binds

“That’s fair” you sigh. Looks like you’ll need a new plan. Maybe some info, but you’d have to give a little to get a little “So are you gonna kill me? Like your friends tried to”

“What you mean?” The man asked

“Couple of people broke into my safe house, said they were saviours and they were gonna kill me to save their friends.” you stared at the ceiling, trying to feign complete helplessness. “Are you with them?”

“No, but-” the woman shushed him again, but that did nothing to deter the man. “We used to be, then a war happened and our boss got locked up and they put an outsider in to look over us”

‘Locked up?’ you thought ‘so he’s not dead.’ you bit your tongue to contain your happiness. “I can’t say I’m sorry” you said after a beat, “So...I’m gonna live?” you looked at them with intentionally wide eyes. The woman looked pissed, but she nodded. You breathed a sigh of relief and closed your eyes. A beat or two later the man returned with Daryl and a grey-hair woman in tow.

“Get those off her!” Daryl ordered.

“It’s okay” you interjected. “I punched your friend there. Kinda earned this”

“Nah” the first man perked up “If I had been jumped then woke up in a strange place I’d have acted out too,” he moved over and started opening the belts, Daryl working on the others. You slowly pulled yourself up, Daryl jumping to your side to help you into a sitting position.

“You alright?” Daryl asked. You looked over now realising your palms were bandaged and your leg was in a splint. You reached up to your aching head and felt a bandage with your fingers.

“I’ve been better” you spoke low, still in a great deal of pain.

“What happened?” the grey haired woman asked. You spun a story of a bunch of people claiming to be saviours who entered your apartment with the plan of ambushing and killing Daryl, how you burned down the apartment and jumped out the window for your escape. The grey haired woman listened to you with growing worry on her face. “Did you kill them all?” she pushed

“I don’t know.” you admitted

“What do you mean you dont know!” she snapped

“Carol-” Daryl started

“No, if there’s people out there claiming to be saviours and hurting people then we’re gonna look bad in front of the other settlements.” Carol snapped back.

“She’s right,” the messenger added. “We’ll have to do something.”

“These were our brothers” the punched man spoke out “We can’t just kill them.”

“They didn’t give us a choice” Daryl snapped. “Y/N barely got out alive and she’s been living out there for months. What if they get someone who can’t hold their own!” he went to storm out but you reached out of the bed and grabbed his arm, yelling out in pain at the strain.

“Don’t” you warned, after Daryl and the woman helped you back into the bed. “If they’re still there then they’re barricaded and have significant advantage.”

“Well what do you purpose we do?” Carol asked. Your breath was getting heavy.

“Anybody got a map of DC? And maybe a pencil”

The original messenger boy got you a map and a pen. You marked out where your apartment had been, as well as some buildings that had fallen apart with age. “They said they were watching me, which means they could be in any of these” you marked around the stable buildings that could make for a hide, which was surprisingly few. “This is my hideout in city centre” you said marking the building

“You never mentioned another safe house.” Daryl spoke up, you smirked

“A girl needs her secrets.” you handed the pen to Daryl “What route did you take to my place?” he lined in his route.

“What if they’re farther?” Carol asked.

“They’re not.” you spoke firmly “They were watching me for long enough they knew when Daryl wouldn’t be around which means they made their place comfortable, and I bet a couple of them got injured in the fire, meaning they’re gonna have to lay low and patch themselves up,” You explained. Your body finally gave way and you fell back on the pillows. The woman jumped to your help, telling the others to go. She made you comfortable in the bed, you drifting off to sleep again not long after.

“How’d you know they’re there?” she asked later that evening when you were awake, eating some acorn mush, “How are you sure?”

You could sense she was worried. “I was in the military before all this” you answered. “Our job was to sneak into enemy territory to help our fellow soldiers or civilians. We used to make maps like that, using where our friends got attacked as a central point to where the enemy could be hiding” she nodded as you explained, though still visibly nervous. “They’ll be fine” you tried to reassure her. “If they’re not nearby, they’ll have to get through hordes of walkers before they’ll be somewhere safe. You’re friends will get them”

She seemed to be reassured, If only a little. “You know I’m meant to be looking after you,” she breathed out, a tear sneaking over her cheek. She wiped it away before it could fall. “I’m Laura, by the way”

“I’m Y/N”

The following morning they all returned, with the exception of Daryl. “You were right” Laura informed you. The ‘saviours’ were held up barely a block away and now they were dead.

“Where’s Daryl?” You asked when Carol visited you.

“He took off for Alexandria” Carol replied. “I’m in charge now.”

“Oh” you spoke, clearly disappointed. Carol ordered Laura to leave, putting you on high alert. She pulled up a chair and looked you in the eyes with a dead stare.

“What is your relationship with Daryl?” she asked bluntly. You cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate so I can give you an answer you’d be happy with, Carol.” you replied helpless from the bed. She knew you couldn’t run, yet she was putting on this show of bravado? She seemed to accept your request though.

“Up until three days ago we didn’t know Daryl had a secret lady hiding in the city. We want to make sure Daryl isn’t keeping secrets that can hurt us.” she spoke a little more relaxed now, but still direct. She reminded you of your mother in a way, whenever she noticed a cookie was missing, or later in life, her vodka had been replaced with water.

“So Rick, Carl, or Tara hadn’t mentioned me either?” those names spurred on some recognition. “Guess not” you sighed, thinking on how to break to this woman you had tried to kill two of her friends. You came to the conclusion that you shouldn’t. “I traded with Carl and Rick for some medical supplies. Few months later Tara, Rick, and Daryl stumbled into my area needing help so I did. Daryl’s been trading with me since.”

“What kind of trade?” she pushed.

“Food,” you answered. “He’s been feeding me, in return I’ve been getting him stuff. Blankets, bandages, jeans, kid’s shit like bottles, and toys-”

“And raincoats with little butterflies on it?” Carol interrupted you. You nodded and whispered a ‘yeah’ under your breath. “I have a niece called Judith. She’s trying to name all the butterflies.” she spoke lovingly of the child and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of a small girl pointing at water-proof butterflies giving them cute names. She probably gave them different names every time she listed them.

The smile faded as you remembered the world isn’t that simple anymore. “So what now?” you asked.

“You’ll stay here” Carol ordered. “You’ll do your part, whatever way you can.”

You nodded in agreement “I know this might be a big ask considering we just met but,” you began, taking a big breath to try and stave off the tiredness, “Could I help here? In the hospital. I was a combat medic before this so it’s probably the best way I can help.”

And it could be a great way to weed out who knows who you are and threaten them into keeping their mouth shut, or even shutting it for them.

Your request was granted, under the watchful eye of Laura, and so began your new life at The Sanctuary.

~Tag List~

@bodeckersbitch​ @lauren-novak​

[dadoroki]

Reminder [3]

Dabi x F!Reader x Hawks

Description: the final chapter to the story ends here. You’re given an ultimatum, having to choose between your painful past and your current present.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

A/N: I can’t believe it’s been about 7-8 months since I wrote part 1. Whoops!

“Not so hard, Keigo.”

You hissed in pain as the man dabbed the cold cloth on your facial injuries. “Not my fault you wanted to play hero and fight all those Nomus yourself.”

If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have been alive. Iv tubes were hooked onto you and the beeping sound of the monitor aggravated you more than the nagging winged-man himself.

“Yeah well someone had to do it.” The sunset highlighted your face and Keigo couldn’t help but fall distracted. The moment was cut short the minute he heard a loud screech coming out of you. While being distracted, Keigo had accidentally pressed deeply into your wound and in return, you punched his arm. “Ow, sorry sorry.”

“Whatever.” You groaned as you laid back down, facing your back towards him. He was about to question your sudden change in attitude but sensed a weird aura around. Getting up from his seat, he headed towards the door in a hurry. “I’ll come by tomorrow alright? There’s something I gotta deal with.” Without looking back at him, you gave a weak wave.

He quietly shut the door to your room but before he could turn the corner, a voice caught him off guard. “So you and Y/N, huh? Never thought she’d go for someone so low.” How did he know your real name? A low chuckle left Hawks’s lips. He turned around and sent a fake smile followed by a wave. “Oh, I’m sorry. Have we met before? Oh right! I sent dozens of my feathers at you. Hope it didn’t kill ya too much!”

Dabi clenched his teeth, roughly pushing himself off the wall. “I’m gonna burn you to pieces you little chicken shit. You hear me?” Hawks playfully held his hands up. “Woah, calm down buddy! But if you’re serious, why don’t we take it somewhere else?”

~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~

And that’s exactly what happened. The two men faced eachother with two different expressions. One held eyes full of rage and anger while the other was smug and laid-back.

“What’s with the face? Makes you look even more uglier than you already are.”

“Shut the hell up.”

Hawks rubbed his chin, observing the man infront of him while thinking deeply. “I still don’t get it. Why do you hate me so much?”

Dabi only scoffed in response. “Enough talking. When I’m done with you, I’ll be sure to give Y/N your burnt chicken wings as a present.”

Hawks didn’t have time to think as blue flames ignited his way. He flew around the abandoned area, the flames following close and burning everything behind him. Now it was his turn to strike. He flew towards Dabi, a long red feather making it’s way into his hand and he striked. Dabi managed to dodge all his attacks with ease, causing the winged hero to flinch. “Huh, you’re so weak. I don’t understand Y/N.”

Hawks ignored his instigation, attempting to hit him at least once but continuously missing all his shots again. “Look at you, you can’t even hit me. Why would she pick a weak man like you? You couldn’t even protect her.”

Emotions ran deep inside Hawks. More specifically guilt? Insecurity? Deep down, he knew everything Dabi said was nothing but the truth. He couldn’t protect you and for that, his worth for you was a newly engraved insecurity. That sadness turned into matched anger, causing him to hold a tighter grip on his feather and putting all force into the swing.

Dabi let out a maniacal laugh, gripping onto the man’s wrist and throwing him onto the ground. He watched unapologetic as Hawks squirmed beneath him in pain. He reached down to his jacket pocket and took out a shiny object, twisting it between his fingers above the injured hero in a taunting manner. “Keigo Takami.”

Once the name reached his ears, he froze in sheer horror. First your name and now his? He slowly realized the shiny object was the promise ring he gave you. “You.” The unstable man continued with poisonous venom leaking from the single word. “It’s all because of you. Y/N no longer cares about me and that’s all because of you! I’ve always despised you Keigo. Even when we were kids.”

Hawks was at a loss for words. He was in disbelief, unable to comprehend the situation. “I’ve always despised you since the day we met. The day I realized my feelings for Y/N. But of course, you just had to be in my way. You were always in my way.” Dabi psychotically laughed, recalling the memories like it was yesterday. “You know, I used to blame Y/N for not knowing how I felt. But I loved her so much and felt stupid for even thinking about blaming her.”

Dabi laid his hand flat on Hawks’s face, watching the man hiss in pain as the light heat made contact to his skin. “And then I started to blame myself. I was the reason why she didn’t love me back. I wasn’t good enough for her.” The heat began to increase, making the hero groan in pain. If the first one didn’t leave a burn mark, this one definitely did. “But then I realized it wasn’t my fault nor was it her’s. It was yours, Keigo. Did you know I was planning on killing you back then? To pretend it was a double accident? I was gonna kill you but then I thought about Y/N. She’d be alone and depressed out of her mind and so I chose to spare your life. Man, was I stupid for that.”

With that, he removed his hand to reveal a complete burn mark along the hero’s left side. He stood up and dusted himself off, facing his hand towards the half concious man lying helplessly on the ground. “You ruined my life Keigo Takami and now, I’m about to end your’s.”

Before Dabi could finish him off once and for all, a pleading voice called out for him in a distance. “Touya, please! Stop it!” The voice was so pure and angelic that Dabi couldn’t help but retrace back to the old days. Back when he was Touya. He slowly let his hand fall, backing away from Hawks.

Dabi was undoubtedly a powerful man. However, no matter how powerful or strong you are, everyone has their own weakness. And for him, it was you.

You limped over as fast as you could, the pain from days prior still taking in effect. “You need to let this go. This was all in the past.”

“The past can come back to haunt you.”

“The Touya I know wouldn’t do that.”

“I’m not Touya.”

“You are to me. You’ll always be Touya.”

That’s all it took for Dabi to be wrapped around your fingers. Those eyes once filled with hatred and rage were replaced with sadness and despair. In that moment, he fell completely vulnerable to you. “Just choose me damnit, Y/N.”

You rose a brow, confused at his words. “I know we have our differences but my feelings for you never changed. You promised me you’d always choose me so why can’t you just do that goddamnit?”

You realized at that point, you were given two critical choices. These two choices would lead to two very different outcomes.

Firstly, there was Touya. He wasn’t the same person he was back then but nonetheless, you still made a promise to him. Plus, it was hard to see him as Dabi when all you saw was Touya. Deep down, you were aware that some feelings were still there for him though you definitely wouldn’t admit it.

Secondly, there was Keigo. You always saw him as a friend but as time went on, it was like the friendship turned out to be a stepping stone for something new. Honestly speaking, you already imagined what it would be like to have a future with him.

The time to choose was now. You deeply sighed, getting ready to reveal your answer.

~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~

You stood infront of the mirror, taking a full look at yourself. Who would’ve thought the day would come for you to finally get married. A long white dress that made you look like a princess, your hair pinned up, and a sparkling veil travelling from the top of your head all the way down to your dress. The final piece was a necklace which you were having trouble putting on.

“You need help?”

Glancing back, you saw that beautiful faint smile to which you returned. The man made his way behind you and took the necklace from your hands. You watched as he clipped the chains together and smiled, matching his gaze through the mirror. “Thank you, Touya.”

“Anything for you.” He admired you from your reflection, eyes travelling all around to every single detail. He never thought he’d see the day where you were like this. All dressed up for the wedding. An uncomfortable silence filled the room and you couldn’t help but clear your throat. “You should get going soon. You shouldn’t even be here and your family came by the way.”

Touya hummed in response and nodded. He made his way towards the door but stopped and faced you. “It’s not too late, Y/N. Just come with me an-”

“No, Touya.” You said abruptly. “I’m not changing my mind. You know I can’t. It’s the right thing to do anyways.” The right thing to do. He sighed in defeat and quietly left your room. The moment you heard the door shut, you deeply exhaled and rubbed the sides of your forehead in stress. You stared at the promise ring Hawks had given you years ago. Today was the day where he would replace that promise ring with a wedding ring, just like he promised.

“Keigo. I choose Keigo.”

That was a sharp pain in Dabi’s chest like he’d been stabbed right there and then. He was expecting some kind of hope, at least just a little bit, to have you say his name. But you didn’t. There wasn’t even any hesitation when you spoke.

“Why? Why him? Am I not good enough for you?!”

You stared at the ground, unable to look the broken man in the eyes. “It’s just how it is, Touya. I don’t make the rules and I can’t choose any differently. I’m sorry.”

Huh, what a joke he thought. When you’re chained to the institution, you have no choice but to submit yourself. That’s exactly what happened to you and because of that, you were now their little puppet to control. Had that not happen, would you have chosen differently? Would you choose to live your life with him and keep that promise?

Hands deeply shoved in his pockets, Dabi walked away from the building and never turned back.

Tags for my peeps that had to wait😂: @trenchcoatdevilsworld @bmthevick @thepplaskingmonthsago

[thatsbucknasty]

she used to be mine (vi) waitress au

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

summary: inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

a/n: we’ll get a peek of Bucky’s pov here. Hope you guys are still reading this, and sorry for taking so long to update.

chapter 6: a soft place to land

doctor bucky pov

-

I think I’m falling for her. The moment she walked into my office, holding that pie almost three months ago, I wanted to get to know her. I know I must’ve annoyed the hell out of her in that first encounter, I know I can be intense, but I couldn’t just refer her to a different person. I feel like we were connected, destined to meet. I’m a big romantic and I love how the universe works. I believe in my soul that we were not a product of coincidence or happenstance; maybe we’re not destined to be together but I’d surely love to just be her friend.

 Everytime she comes for an appointment I hope I’m cherishing her company as much as I should, or praising her talents because she deserves to know how amazing she is. And everytime I’m not in her presence I’m waiting  for the day I’ll get to see her again. Or hoping I’ll casually run into her at the market or in the street. Cause I’m stupid like that. Hoping some married woman, who’s also my patient by the way, will actually want anything to do with me. 

She’s sound asleep right now, and if things were different and she wasn’t in such a scary situation I might wish she’d wake up so I could tell her how beautiful she is to me and how much I want her to feel the same way I feel about her. But even if she’s had issues with that awful man, she’s still with him, so… I know it’s not going to happen and I’d just make a fool out of myself.

And where is that bastard anyway? His wife and kid are in such a vulnerable state and he’s nowhere to be seen! I swear if he comes here drunk, like she’s told me it’s his usual state, I’ll kick his pathetic ass. She deserves better than this. 

She listed a woman named Natasha as her emergency contact. A strange, scary woman indeed. She waltzed in here bossing everyone around, threatening to kill anybody who wouldn’t let her near her best friend. If I wasn’t scared for Y/N’s own life at the moment I might’ve laughed at all the interns she threw daggers at. The scary redhead went out to make some phone calls and get coffee, so it’s only me and Y/N, and the little nugget.

She looks so peaceful right now, so soft. I feel an incessant need to be near her and make sure she’s safe. Both of them really. It’s been a bad year for the both of us, that’s for sure. But all I care about right now is this woman, sleeping with an IV and a monitor by her side, and that tiny baby inside of her. I know they’re gonna make it just fine. I may be a little awkward and dumb when it comes to girls, but I’m damn good at my job, so for now, they’re both stable.

I’m falling for her hard. She baked me a pie and I couldn’t stop smiling once I was alone, just staring at it. The first pie she gave me wasn’t really for me, it was for Doctor Perkins. But the second one she made specially for me. I felt so proud that day, like I had discovered the cure to some major disease. She’s got me wrapped around her pretty little magical pie baking fingers.

-

y/n pov

-

I try to open my eyes and it’s taking an excessive amount of effort to do so. Everything’s too bright and I’m disoriented but I finally assess my surroundings and I realize I’m in a hospital bed. Oh god, my baby…

“My baby. Is it okay? I-” I whimper and try to call for somebody but there’s no one. How did I even get here?

“Y/N! You’re awake! Thank god!” Natasha and Wanda enter the room, and run to my side when they take in my panicked state.

“Nat, my baby? How is it? I don’t know how- I was- Please tell me it’s okay. I didn’t even get to give them a name yet. I-”

“Sweetie, it’s okay, shhh. You and the baby are okay. You’ve been here for two days, and we were so worried but Bucky said the worst part is over. Oh! That reminds me, Bucky said it’s a she! And she’s quite healthy, but you need to relax because whatever sent both of you here took a toll on your health and you need that to grow a baby, you know? You gotta take care of yourself, hon”.

I sigh in relief and try to relax back into the stiff hospital pillows. My baby is okay and it’s a girl. I feel like my heart stopped for a minute there but now there’s a sense of calm flooding me.

“Wait, you met Bucky?”

“Why yes, actually he wouldn’t leave your side but since Wanda and me are here, he figured you’d be more comfortable with a less crowded room”.

“Oh. That’s- um, that’s nice of him I guess”.

“Y/N? Would you like us to go fetch him?”

“YES! ...I mean, if you girls don’t mind”.

“Oh not at all. I’ll go, Wands you stay here to see if she needs anything”. Nat left the room and I suddenly feel so grateful to have such good friends in my life. I’d feel very pathetic if I was in the hospital by myself. No parents, no husband. No one else to worry about me and my baby girl.

“Okay, missy. I know you mentioned Doctor McDreamy was cute. But you never said he was THAT cute!”

“He is, isn’t he?” I feel my face heat up at her comment but it doesn’t matter anymore. They’ve met him and well, no one could hide that man’s handsome face.

“Too bad all of us are taken”. Wanda says while she cleans the chair by my bed with a wipe and sits.

Man, I gotta tell them what happened with Quentin, I feel like they’re gonna throw me a party or something. They really hate his ass.

“Yeah, about that…”

“Y/N, I’m glad you’re awake, how are you feeling?” Bucky enters the room and even though he has dark circles around his eyes and his face is scruffier than when I last saw him, he looks gorgeous.

“I’m good. Thirsty”. That’s all I manage to utter in front of the prying ears of my best friends, but I glare at them and Nat gets it.

“Oh would you look at the time, Wanda we should go back to the diner. Y/N, honey? We’ll visit after our shift’s over tonight, is that okay? You’re in good hands here, isn’t she, Bucky?”

“Indeed she is”. He says without taking his eyes off me, he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes, he looks… concerned.

“Kay, see ya!” Nat takes Wanda by the arm and they almost jog outta here.

All of a sudden I feel extreme guilt. Bucky told me stress was bad for the baby and here I am. I feel like a child at the principal’s office. My eyes are welling up and I can’t even look at him.

“Hey, is something wrong? Are you in pain?” Bucky walks over to my side and takes a look at the monitor. I look up at him and he slowly reaches over to grab my chin. My heart does a little flutter and I hope the monitor doesn’t rat me out.

“I- I feel fine. But I’m so stupid. You told me stress was bad and- and I didn’t listen”, I can barely speak coherently in between sobs and jagged breaths, “I’m sorry- I had a huge argument with Quentin, he wasted all my baby savings and he’s having an affair, which I should’ve seen it coming, but I’m so, so stupid!”

Tears flow down my cheeks and I hide my face in my palms, then I feel the bed dip next to me and Bucky’s arms around me. He holds my back with one arm and the back of my head with another, whispering sweet words into my ear. I cling to his arms and let all my sadness and frustration be washed away by his embrace. We stay there for a little while and I try to mimic the rhythm of his breathing to calm myself down.

He’s the first one to let go and I hate to be parted from his arms, but he reaches over to wipe some stray tear and that tiny touch is enough to make me feel better.

“I just want you to know- you’re not stupid. Whatever reaction that you had and that led you here, it was completely normal. Y/N, if I may be so bold to say this- Quentin’s a lowlife. He doesn’t deserve you. I know you tried to work things out and gave him chance after chance because you choose to see the good in people, but you’ve had enough and you deserve more. You’re pretty amazing and the fact that you’ve been handling this pregnancy on your own since day one, makes you the strongest person I know”, he lowers his hand to my stomach and looks deep into my eyes, “you and that little princess you got there are alright now. It was just a scare. A very serious one, but you both are going to get through this in no time, I’m going to make sure of that”.

I smile up to him and he leans in to give my forehead a barely there kiss. Perhaps he’s right and things will be okay, maybe even more than just okay. There is hope in his eyes and in my heart, I can feel it.

“You should rest, I’ll be here, I promise”. 

Bucky takes my hand to his lips and sits in the chair next to me, still holding my hand and kissing it every so often until I fall asleep.

-

chapter 7: never ever getting rid of me

[khoicesbyk]

Beloved.

A/N: I'm officially obsessed with Wolf Bride and what does one do when she's obsessed with a certain book? She writes an AU about it! 😁 So, Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: Roman (LI) and Naia Evans (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 4,040 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Song And Story Inspiration: Bittersweet-After 7

Tag List: @shewillreadyou @rideordiechronicles @pixie88 @txemrn @lucy-268 @shannonsaid @shannonwrote @bebepac @imturaxamara @blackkingliamstan @queenjilian @secretaryunpaid @ridgy--didge @theworldofprompts @choicesficwriterscreations

This series is rated Mature. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

This series may contain spoilers. If you wish not to see spoilers, please do not read any further.

Prompt Time! Today I’ll be using @theworldofprompts prompt “What do you want me to do, dress in drag and do the hula?” it'll be in bold in black. Also I know that I can’t be the only one who’s excited that they picked the greatest Disney movie one-liner as a prompt.

(Also this series is a slight deviation of the original story. In the original story, the werewolf hunter is a woman. But in this series the hunter is a man.)

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

A/N 2: I had a time writing this chapter. Writers block and all out forgetfulness is a bitch! But I did it! *pats self on the back*

TW: paranormal activity. Communication with the dead. Reader Discretion Is STRONGLY ADVISED.

Chapter 22.) Reflection.

It′s crazy how you flaunt your passion.

When you let meaning of them worth take over you.

You stare into my soul like that.

Makes me wonder when you ain't get by the side of me.

It′s pain and pleasure.

To love someone so.

So much you, you hate them.

Push me over the edge then.

To go catch you, your love is.

It's bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

I build you up, then knock you down.

It's bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

You stay quiet and I get loud.

It′s bittersweet.

It had been 3 days since Naia was rushed to the hospital because of Wolfbane being in her system. Her parents, especially her mother, were both distraught and furious that their daughter had gotten herself caught up in the tireless war between The Pack and The Knights Of Ossory. Those three days felt like years to them. Both took turns sitting vigil over their daughter.

The only saving grace was that her condition hadn't changed. It hadn't gotten better but Laurie and Shane were thankful it hadn't worsened. They just wanted her to open her eyes. Laurie needed her daughter to wake up. She had to hear her voice again. And every moment that she didn't the more she went crazy. Laurie would just sit at Naia’s bedside holding onto her hand and pray Naia would squeeze her hand. The agony of waiting was going to kill her.

“Anything?” her husband asked as he entered the room with coffee in hand.

Laurie just shook her head no.

“It'll happen, baby. It has to. She'll wake up and we'll be able to breathe again.”

She never said a word to him. She just held onto Naia’s hand as Shane set the cup of coffee he brought her down. Laurie's eyes were red and puffy and her face was a mess. She blamed The Pack and The Knights Of Ossory but mostly she blamed herself. She swore to protect her daughter from all of this. To prevent her from going through the hell she went through over 30 years ago. And feels like she failed. A pain no mother wants to go through.

Laurie rubbed Naia’s knuckle silently, willing their daughter to wake up.

“Have you eaten baby?”

Laurie shook her head no.

“You should go eat something baby.”

“I don't want food. I want our daughter. I want her to wake up now.”

Shane sat beside her and placed his hand over hers.

“I know, baby. I want that too. I need it. You need it. But it's not good for you not to eat something.”

“I can't leave her! What if she wakes up and I'm not here?! I have to be here!”

Her frantic tone worried Shane.

“Baby listen to me! You need to go eat something. I'll be right here. I will watch over her. If anything happens I swear to you that I will tell you immediately.”

“But Shane—”

“No buts! Go eat something. Now! I won't let anything happen to her. I swear that on my life.”

Laurie looked at him before getting up and going to the door. When she looked back towards Naia, Shane smiled softly at her.

“It's okay baby, I'll keep her safe.”

Laurie nodded sadly before walking out the door.

Shane turned his attention back to their daughter, his worry, resentment, rage, sorrow, protectiveness, and anxiety all on high. His little girl. His flesh and blood. She hadn't moved or spoken since he last saw her. He was thankful for the hospital staff. They were able to get her allergic reaction to Wolfbane under control but she was still unconscious. None of the meds she was on seemed to be working.

It′s so easy to listen.

When your tongue is an innocent prisoner of war oh yeah.

And it might bе wrong but we never еnd that.

Damage is done, always pain and pleasure.

To love someone so.

So much you hate them.

Push me over the edge then.

To go catch you, your love is.

It's bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

I build you up, then knock you down.

It′s bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

You stay quiet and I get loud.

It's bittersweet.

It didn't take Laurie long to come back from the cafeteria. When Shane looked up she walked in with food for them both.

“I'm not the only one who needed to eat.”

Shane smiled softly as she handed him a sandwich.

“Still nothing?”

“Still no change. But I'm not giving up.”

Laurie smiled at her husband's resolve. They sat together and ate their food in silence. Their eyes went from Naia to the IV drip machine she was hooked up to.

“Don't worry baby. Our girl will wake up.”

“I know she will. She has to. And when she does…we have to tell her the truth.”

Shane looked at his wife confused.

“Are you sure? Are you sure you’re ready to do that?”

“Look at her Shane! She wouldn't be here, hell we wouldn't even be here if she knew the truth. It's time. So when she wakes up and is lucid enough to hear it we'll tell her everything.”

Shane took his wife's hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Okay. If you’re ready and you're sure. Then I am too.”

Laurie offered him a small smile.

Yeah I know you know me.

That′s why you the only one can push my buttons.

Sometimes it's like you speak another language.

Got me like adios buenas noches baby.

Oh it′s pain and pleasure.

To love someone so.

So much you hate them.

Push me over the edge then.

To go catch you, your love is.

It′s bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

I build you up, then knock you down.

It′s bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

You stay quiet and I get loud.

It's bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

I build you up, then knock you down.

It′s bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

You stay quiet and I get loud.

It's always bittersweet.

While her body was still, Naia was subconsciously awake.

“Naia…”

Naia slowly opened her eyes, and looked around frantically and confusedly. She couldn't see anything or anyone.

“What? Where am I?”

That's when she heard a woman's voice.

“I've been waiting to meet you.”

When Naia turned around she saw a figure she didn't recognize.

“Who’s there? Who are you? What is this place?”

The figure in front of her soon materialized into an elderly black woman. One that she recognized.

“Oh…my…God! You’re…you're…Delia?”

She smiled at Naia.

“Hello, my dear. It's wonderful to finally meet you.”

Naia’s jaw dropped.

“But how?!”

“I thought you…you died a long time ago!”

“I did. 3 years ago.”

“Wait! Am I dead?”

Delia laughed softly.

“No dear, you’re not dead. You are in the world between worlds.”

Naia blinked in realization.

“I was here with Roman. Where is he?! Is he hurt?! Did Trent shoot him?!”

Delia placed a calming hand on Naia’s shoulder.

“All will be revealed shortly. I promise.”

Naia took a shaky breath then nodded.

“Now come sit with me. We have much to discuss.”

Naia followed Delia to a bench that appeared out of nowhere. When they sat down Delia cocked her head to the side at Naia curiously. Making her feel super awkward.

“Is there something on my face?”

“No. I’m just curious about you. You’re as beautiful as I imagined you’d be.”

Naia couldn’t keep the blush from creeping up on her face.

“A ghost just called me beautiful. I must be hallucinating.”

Delia chuckled.

“You said we had much to discuss. What are we discussing?”

“You, my dear. Your connection to the town, the people, and especially Roman.”

“I mean I’ve been in town for a few months. I don’t know anyone outside of my uncle Trent and the Pack.”

Delia nods.

“And what are your impressions of them so far?”

Naia chewed the inside of her cheek.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course dear. That’s why we are here.”

“I understand why my mom doesn’t want me around Roman. Because to be honest, he’s terrifying. But at the same time…I can’t stay away from him. I can’t get enough of him. He makes me feel safe. And loved. And wanted. And I…”

“Yes?”

“I care about him. A lot. But I don't know if I'm ready to give up my life for him. I don't know if I'm ready to be his mate.”

Deli nodded.

“It is a lot to ask of a young woman. I would know.”

“How did you decide Delia? Or was it decided for you?”

Delia chuckles softly.

“It wasn’t my intent to be Xander’s mate when I first came to Hunt’s Peak.”

Naia blinked in confusion.

“You’re not from Hunt’s Peak?”

“No. Originally from the Pittsburgh area.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I grew up in foster care so it wasn’t like many had missed me when I left.”

“So what brought you to Hunt’s Peak?”

“I was hired as a 5th teacher. I loved my job. Teaching children became my passion.”

“And how did you meet Xander?”

“I’ve always been a Wolfkin and I knew it was my destiny to become the mate to a member of The Pack but I never thought I would be Xander’s mate. But to answer your question, I was walking along the creek when I saw him and his father Ferdinand. We were smitten at first sight.”

“Oh…did his father accept you?”

“Yes, he did. And after some convincing so did his mother Cecilia.”

“When did Xander become Alpha?”

“Shortly after we met. Maybe 6 months or so.”

“Is that when you became his mate?”

“Yes. He courted me until he became Alpha.”

“Courted how?”

Delia smiled as if lost in a memory.

“He would come by the school. Regale my students in wild tales of werewolves as knights and kings and sorceresses and sorcerers. That sort of thing. But the biggest thing he did for me, was he planted a single night flower and let it blossom into a field full of them.”

“Sounds like he was a romantic at heart.”

“He used to be but when he became Alpha, responsibility and obligation replaced flowers and romance.”

“Was it hard?”

“No. Not at first. I always understood my role as The Alpha’s mate. And I cherished it. Becoming a sort of Den Mother gave me a purpose.”

“What changed?”

Delia looked at Naia with a new curiosity.

“He met your mother.”

Naia swallowed.

“Mommy told me how she met him.”

“I remember that. I remember when he told her no at first. I was furious at him. So I not so subtly encouraged him to reconsider not protecting her and your uncle.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Your mother was a child at the time. And your uncle couldn’t protect her as he should have. Only Xander and The Pack could do that.”

“She also told me about the day he offered her The Pack’s protection.”

“I remember when Xander told me about Bobby Giles threatening her. He was furious and I was disgusted. But we both knew that he couldn't just charge into town and rid it of him. Well, he could but it wasn't in his nature at the time. So he sent a few wolves in their human forms to investigate.”

“She told me that too. And the time that Bobby pulled a gun out on Xander.”

Delia snickered.

“The fool. He believed that his gun would scare Xander. But he learned the hard way that day.”

Naia shifted in her seat.

“Mommy showed me the necklace that Xander gave her.”

“I know about that. He gave it to her on her 18th birthday.”

“She also said that she was bonded to him.”

“She's right. She was bonded to him until he died.”

“Are you angry about that?”

Delia went quiet

“To be honest, I was very angry with her. Jaded and bitter even. But I realized after she left that my anger was misplaced.”

“Misplaced how?”

“After she left I found out that Xander was telling her that she was to be his new mate. And at that time your mother was a young impressionable girl.”

“He was manipulating her?”

“Yes, he played with her heart and preyed on it.”

“My God. Why did you stay with him for so long?”

“I was bound by Pack Law to stay with my mate until his death.”

Naia shuddered.

“Will that happen to me?”

“If you choose to be Roman’s mate you are bound by Pack Law to be at his side until his death.”

“Well, that explains what my mom said about you and Xander being married on paper.”

Delia nodded.

“If I was the mate of any other Pack member I could leave. But I was Xander’s mate. As was your mother. As yet…”

“She ran away.”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me about Xander?”

“What would you like to know?”

“What did he look like?”

Delia waves a hand and a picture of Xander materialized in front of them.

“Whoa…”

“That is Xander in all his glory.”

“He and Roman look just alike.”

Delia smiled softly.

“Yes. He has his father's looks and stubbornness but he also has my heart.”

“Will I meet Xander?”

“No my dear. You won't.”

“Crisis averted.”

“So, will you be Roman’s mate or will you go back to your life as a human woman?”

Just as Naia was about to speak another panel appeared in front of her and Delia.

“What's this?”

“Roman. He's trying to connect to you through your bond. We are about to look at life through his eyes. These panels that appear are what life is like.”

“Why can’t he connect with me?”

Instead of responding, Delia put a finger to her lips then pointed to the panel. When Naia looked at the panel she was transported into Roman’s mind.

She and Delia were looking at a memory of them.

She had convinced Layla to let her turn Buck’s into a mini-movie theater for the pups and their parents. To give them something fun to do. When Roman heard about it he was both curious and thrilled. The girls decided on watching Lion King. With Gino and popcorn in hand, Naia snuggled next to Roman.

“So this movie is about…cats?”

“The circle of life. And lions.”

“…lions are cats are they not?”

Naia shook her head at the memory before turning to Delia.

“I remember this.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. It was the day I learned that your son doesn’t like my impressions.”

Delia chuckled. They turned back to the memory and as they did, they came upon Naia’s impression of one of her favorite scenes in the movie.

“Hyenas. I hate hyenas. So what’s your plan for getting past those guys?”

“Live bait.”

“Good idea!…hey!”

“Come on Timon, you guys have to create a diversion.”

“What do you want me to do? Dress in drag and do the hula?”

Roman groaned.

“Are you going to be like this the rest of the movie?”

“What? Gino likes my impression. You don’t like my impression?”

“…no.”

“Everyone’s a damn critic.”

Roman rolled his eyes. But he would soon find out which scene is her favorite scene in the whole movie.

“Hey! Who’s the pig?”

“Are you talking to me?”

“Uh oh! Did he call him a pig?”

“Are you talking to me?”

“Shouldn’t have done that!”

“Are you talking to me?!”

“Now they’re in for it!”

“They call me: Mr. Pig!”

And just as she got Pumbaa’s yell Roman clamped a hand to her mouth.

“Beloved…how am I to enjoy this movie you’ve chosen with your incessant talking?”

Naia just giggled as the panel changed to a more recent memory. One that Naia didn’t recognize.

“My…room?”

“Yes, my dear. This was just a few days ago.”

“But I don’t remember this.”

“Because you aren’t there.”

“What?! What do you mean?”

Delia pointed to the panel as it showed Roman walking into her room. He looked distraught as he looked around. Naia could feel his anguish in her chest. When his eyes fell on Gino sitting on the bed, she felt tears on her cheek as he held Gino close to his chest.

“I don’t understand.”

“The one he considers to be his mate is missing.”

“His mate? You mean me?”

“Yes, my dear.”

“But why is he looking for me?”

“Because your bond with him is disrupted. He’s trying to reconnect with you.”

“But why?”

Delia turned back to the panel as it showed Roman in wolf form curled up on her bed with Gino under his jaw. She felt his agony and his pain as well as his longing as he whimpered. He was missing her. He was needing her. Her presence. Her smile. Her laugh. It broke her heart. She stood up shouting to the panel.

“Roman! Roman! I'm here! I'm right here!”

Delia put a hand on her shoulder.

“He can't hear you. This is only a vision of what has already been.”

Naia turned to Delia with pleading in her eyes.

“You said that he couldn’t connect to me, why can’t he connect to me?”

With a wave of a hand another panel appeared. This one showed Naia lying in a hospital bed hooked up to an IV with her mother at her side.

“I–I–I…it can’t be! You said I wasn’t dead!”

“You aren’t Naia. You’ve been injected with Wolfbane. It’s a toxin that can be deadly but thankfully you were taken to the hospital in time to save you.”

“Injected?! How?!”

“You don’t remember?”

Naia stood there confused until it hit her.

“The tranquilizer dart! The one that Trent was using! Am I right?”

Delia nodded.

“If I’m on an IV then why haven’t I woken up?”

“Because the spirits aren’t ready for you to wake up yet.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Delia looked at Naia.

“Answer this. Why do you think you’re here?”

Naia didn't know how to answer that question.

“I don't know.”

As soon as those words left her mouth another panel appeared. This one was of Trent after he left the hospital. He was in his boss’s office going off about Wolfbane.

“What is wrong with you Moses?!”

“The tranquilizer! You said it was harmless!”

“It is harmless! It effects those beasts and their ability to shift!”

“What about humans?”

“It doesn’t effect humans!”

Trent eyed him with an intense yet calm fury.

“What is Wolfbane?”

Bernard blinked in confusion.

“Where did you hear that name?”

“Answer the question!”

“It’s the name of the tranquilizer. It doesn’t effect humans.”

“Yes it does.”

“No it does not!”

Trent pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Naia was hit by one of the tranquilizer darts.”

“The young woman you brought here the other day?”

“Yes. She collapsed after being hit and is now in the hospital fighting for her life. According to her mother Wolfbane is a poison that you and Xander created.”

Bernard looked at Trent genuinely confused.

“Her mother?”

“I didn't stutter.”

“What was her last name again?”

“Evans.”

“I knew someone with that last name but it was a he not a she.”

“Probably her dad. Her mother’s maiden name is Roberts.”

Bernard’s face lit up.

“Roberts? As in Laurie Roberts? Zane Roberts sister?”

“Yes.”

“I knew that girl looked familiar!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know her mother. Which means Xander was right. She did run off with Evans. I can’t believe she finally came back home.”

“Is what her mother said true? That you created this with Xander?”

“Yes it is but he took it too far. It wasn’t designed to be lethal. I tried to stop him but you can see what good it did.”

“So Xander truly was a monster?”

“Ohhh yes my boy. A monster indeed.”

As she watched with Delia, Naia wasn’t entirely convinced that Bernard was totally innocent.

“I don’t like him. I don’t trust him.”

“That’s Bernard Sayre for you.”

“Has he always been this way?”

“Oh yes. Even when I was amongst the living he and especially his motives were always questionable.”

“Why does the town let him do what he does?”

“Only the town can answer that.”

“I guess…”

The panel showed Trent in his cabin sitting on his couch with a bottle in his hand. Naia could feel his guilt and shame as well as his anger. His anger at his boss and anger at himself. He didn’t mean to hurt her. She just came out of nowhere. By the time he pulled the trigger it was too late. He didn't see her at first but when she dropped to the ground his heart dropped when she did. He wanted to be there at the hospital with her. To tell her how sorry he was. How much she means to him. How he wishes he could take it all back.

But at that moment he couldn't. All he could do was wallow in his festering grief and simmering anger. The same as Roman. This war had taken away a lot for both of them but this was the final straw. Trent wasn't about to lose to Roman again. And Roman had finally had enough of Trent being a thorn in his side. Both had subconsciously decided that this was an all-out war.

All of it broke Naia.

“They aren't serious are they?”

“Yes. Both are hurt and angry. Both at themselves and each other.”

“But I don't want this! I don't want them fighting!”

“Then you've found your reason for being here.”

“What do you mean?”

“You asked me why you were brought here. My dear, you were brought here to heal what is broken.”

“You mean Roman and Trent?”

“And your family. Your mother, especially.”

“Mommy?”

“Yes. She is hurting. And angry. And confused. And you are the key to healing her wounds. And theirs.”

Naia nodded.

“How do I do that?”

“You can start by answering your mother’s prayer.”

Delia turned back to the panel that showed Laurie. When Naia looked up, her mother was holding the necklace that Xander gave her. She looking out of the window to the moon in the sky.

“Spirits of the earth,

I don't know if you can hear me or that I even have the right to ask this. But I come to you with a simple prayer. I ask you to heal my daughter. She doesn't deserve to be here. She doesn't deserve this. She's innocent. If you're angry with me for abandoning The Pack and my duties as Xander’s mate I understand. But I beg you! Don't make my daughter suffer because of me. I beg you, please bring her back to me. Let her eyes open again. Let her speak again. I just want my little girl back. I need her back. Please! Heal her.”

Delia turned to Naia with a question.

“Now that you know your purpose, are you ready my dear?”

“Yes. I am ready to heal all that is broken.”

Delia waved her hand and the panels disappeared. They were replaced by a doorway.

“Then go. Your mother is waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Delia.”

Delia smiled at her.

“You're welcome, my dear. Tell my son that I miss him and that I love him and that I'm sorry.”

Naia smiled at her.

“I will.”

Naia stepped through the doorway and was transported back to her hospital room, just as her mother finished praying. She had moved her head slightly which both startled and excited Laurie.

“Naia? Naia baby are you awake?”

Naia’s eyes fluttered open and when she spoke her voice was weak.

“Mommy…”

Laurie had tears in her eyes.

“I'm here baby. I'm right here.”

Laurie was overcome with joy and relief.

“You came back to me!”

“I missed you, mommy.”

“I missed you too, baby girl.”

“We…have…much…to…talk…about.”

Laurie nodded resolutely.

“Yes, we do. It's time for you to know the true reason why I left.”

[fangirlingincamouflage]

Blind Hope: Chapter 7

Title: Blind Hope Author: Rosie Dayze Word Count: 1,232 Pairing: Nick Jakoby x Reader Chapter Rating: PG-13 Themes: Angst, Plot, affectionate frustration Disclaimer I do not own Nick Jakoby, he is the intellectual property of Netflix Originals, I make no money from this fanfiction. Dedication: @14readwritedraw96 and @thezucchini​ (For being so wonderfully enthusiastic) TW/CW Descriptions of pain, long term hospital stay

Previous chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 <~ You are Here

You are standing in the middle of the pasta isle at the grocery store when your cell phone goes off. It's that distinctive ping of an unknown number texting you. You sigh, roll your eyes, and wonder what is the easiest possible thing that you can make for dinner that night. In the past six days your workload has tripled. June and Em are on a much needed vacation and Nick is still unconscious at the hospital.

You know that because you called right before you left to go grocery shopping. You also called first thing this morning, and last night, and the morning before, and the night before that. You have called the hospital at least twice a day for the past thirty-seven days. You got the exact same information.

“Officer Jakoby is still in an induced coma, and he is not ready to be seen by friends or family.”

It was maddening.

Your phone goes off again and you set a jar of premade sauce back on the shelf. Your stomach isn't feeling red sauce. It isn't feeling pasta. Or oranges. Or any one of a thousand other things you were totally down for eating. You hadn't been hungry since the night part of LA went up in magical flames. Since Nick had been hospitalized.

With a sigh you eased into the snack isle. Is a bag of chips an acceptable replacement for dinner? Probably not, but you've had take out for the past two weeks and absolutely none of it has filled the steady, continuing ache in your heart.

Your phone goes off again.

“What?” you snarl loud enough to make the old lady with a basket full of frozen dinners blink with bewilderment. “Sorry. Not you.”

You pull your phone out and waive it at her. She doesn't look convinced, and doubles her speed to get into the next isle.

With a few swipes you bring up your new messages.

“This is Jessica, the Head Nurse at the Intensive Care Unit at the UCLA Medical Center.” The first message reads.

Your heard pounds so hard in your chest that your vision goes a little hazy. You grip your phone tightly enough to make the screen rainbow with protest.

“Nick Jakoby has achieved a state of continuing consciousness. One of my nurses made the mistake of telling him that you had stopped by.”

That hazy feeling turns to ash. You had wanted to see him yourself, to let him know what had gone on, and why you hadn't talked to him in six, not seven, months.  He must be angry, furious.

The third message is brief, and comes across as a little mad. “In order to keep him in bed, I promised him you would come see him tonight. Do not make me a liar.”

You desert your cart, and take the shortest possible trip to the hospital that you have ever taken. Which is impressive, considering all the times you driven up there in the past month, just in case something had happened between your morning and evening check-ins.

You don't stop at the front desk, you know where you are going. The elevator doors close as you turn the corner, and the wait for the next ones seems like an eternity. The moment the doors whoosh open, you surge inside hitting the buttons for the ICU floor. You don't even wait. You ht the close-door button and watch your reflection stare back at you as the lift starts to rise.

What are you going to say? Should you have gotten balloons? Flowers? A stuffed animal? Would he even be allowed those things? Did he want them from you? Did he want to see you to make up or to have a final talk? In the twenty-eight seconds that it takes to get to your floor, your mind plays out you greatest hopes and worst fears in a strange, overlapping loop that leaves you feeling a little lightheaded.

Though maybe that has something to do with the fact that you haven't eaten well in a month.

Your clothes don't fit right, you think as you tug at the fabric. You should have gone home to change. You were wearing your comfy clothes to go shopping. The fabric weird. Then you realize its not the fabric, its your own skin. You are so nervous that your skin feels like an electric current is running through it. With a huff you roll your shoulders, trying to settle your nerves. It doesn't help.

The doors slide open and as fast as you got into the elevator, you hesitate to get out. This could go wrong. What if his mother is there? His partner? What about Johnassen, the jerk who broke his phone so long ago?

It doesn't matter you tell yourself as you take that first step off the elevator. All that matters is he's awake. You'll be able to see him with your own eyes.

A stern looking woman with stark gray curls looks up from a desk as you approach. She tilts her head and inspects you.

“For Jakoby?” she asks like she already knows the answer. “Follow me.”

Your heart is in your ears as you follow in the steps of her worn out shoes. She swipes her badge, taking you through a set of secure double doors. The sounds of the hospital change. The ICU is bereft of human noises, but it isn't quiet. You can hear televisions on a half a dozen channels turned down low, doing what they could to preoccupy patients who were in layers of pain. The sound of breathing machines hiss and whirl. A man in green scrubs wheels supplies down the hall. There's no happy, warm chatter. Just a strange sense of desolation and pain.

You do not like it here, and you can't imagine Nick here. Nick, with his warm laugh and kindness. Nick who kisses you like the universe exists in your lips. You want to scoop him up and take him away.

The nurse stops outside of a door at the end of the hall.

“They are quarantined behind a see through partition,” she tells you in the kind of no-nonsense voice that must come from years in her work. “Do not attempt to breech this partition.”

She holds out a long medical gown. Confused, you shoved your arms into the sleeves. She spins you, and starts to tie it up, and then she puts another one on your back, spinning you again so she can tie it in the front. She hands you a cap, and a mask, and you put them both on as she helps your feet into medical grade booties.

“How dangerous is it?” You ask as she holds up a pair of gloves to slip on your hands.

“Unknown,” she tucks the end of the gloves over the wristband of the double set of gowns. “But you saw the news, you know where they were. Better safe than sorry.”

She types a number into the key pad. “You get ten minutes. No more, no less. I'm not being mean, but we need to minimize any chance of exposure.”

You nod your understanding. Ten minutes isn't much time, but you'll make the most of it.

“There are armed men in there,” she finally says. “Don't do anything to make them think you are a threat.”

It's the last bit of advice she gives you before the pad turns green and the door is opened.

The room is long, white, and empty save for what looks like a box made out of hanging plastic. Only a few of the lights are on, casting half the room in evening darkness. There are several beds, but only one of them is occupied. The long, lean body of a black male is visible beneath the harsh lighting. Three other people stand guard, dressed from head to toe, AR-15 clutched in their hands. The door closes behind you.

For a moment you stand there, frozen and unsure. A little, ugly thought makes you wonder if this is some weird trick. Then you hear your name.

Your eyes are drown to the shape of a man sitting in a chair. You hadn't noticed him at first because the dark lines of his body blend a little too easily with the pseudo darkness on that side of the room. But now that you've seen him, you can't pull your gaze away.

Nick. You'd know the shape of him anywhere. The broad, strong line of his shoulders stands guardian against the pitch black behind him. There's a blanket across his legs, and an IV in his arm.

“It's you,” he says softly, disbelieving.

“Nick.” You take one step, and then another, and before you know it your legs are carrying you across the room. You almost forget the plastic. When you foot hits it, you're startled. The guards watch you with cold glares. “Sorry.”

And once you start saying it, you can't stop. Over and over again you apologize. You don't realize you are crying until you taste the hot salt of your own tears. You are sorry you didn't call him. You are sorry you left. You are sorry you didn't answer him back. You are sorry for everything you ever did in the last six months because none of those things was going to him. You sink to your knees at the edge of the partition, the tears making it impossible to speak.

He says your name again, so soft you wonder if you dreamed it. You look up, and he's shaking his head.

“Please, don't cry.”

Slowly, unsteadily, he gets up. He doesn't look at you as he pulls the chair from one side of the plastic sheet box to the other. Right in front of you, he plops the chair down, and then lowers himself into it. His staccato motions belie how hurt he must still be.

The pair of you are silent as you look one another over. You see the bruises beneath his woad blue spots; purple and yellow and, in some places, black. You see the stitches in his arm, the thick swelling of his hands. The skin around his cheeks is slack with the lack of food he's gotten in the past month. But his eyes, those gorgeous eyes that are yellow and red and orange all at once, they are filled with pain that has nothing to do with being thrown half a football field by a magical explosion.

“You're here,” he says, his voice soft. “I thought-” He stop short, shrugging, and then wincing.

“I know,” you tell him. While you aren't sure of the exact words he must have thought, you know that it couldn't have been good.

“Why?” he asks.

You open your mouth to tell him, but the words wont come. You remember Elizabeth, his mother, and the way she had looked at you. You could tell him everything, but what good would that do? He might get angry at his mother, it might cause some kind of rift between them and how many people did Nick really have who cared that much for his safety? Not nearly enough, you think as you take in injuries you hadn't noticed before.

Instead you shrug. You can't bring yourself to lie, but you can't bring yourself to tell him the truth either, no matter how much it's burned inside of you. You turn the words that she said over in your mind, pulling an answer from them without revealing their source.

“You got hurt because you were with me.” Your voice cracks as you say it.

His eyes close and his shoulders sag. His body leans forward. You think he's about to slide out of the chair. The pair of you kneel on the floor, staring at one another. Emotions that you don't think have ever been named whirl through you. You want to touch him, you want to hold him, you want to vanish together into the night.

“No,” he said shaking his head. “No. You were just the excuse. When they saw me-” he cuts off, coughs, and shakes. “They'd already decided what they were going to do.”

He looks away. You can tell that there's more to say, that he's struggling. Rather than push you give him a moment. He deserves that at the very least.

“It wont happen again,” he says.

“Why not?”

He opens his palm, I can't see anything there, but he must because he's staring down at it like it's something special.

“I can't talk about a lot that happened that night,” he says. “I want to, I want to tell you everything but...I can't.”

You shake your head. “I just need to know you are safe.”

“I think I am. I mean-I gotta tell you, it was not a normal night. I was...I was blooded.”

Your eyes go wide. You can't help but stare at his lips. He smirks.

“It'll take a while for the tusks to grow. But I don't need to file them anymore.”

You sit back on your heels. “Are you okay with that?”

He shrugs. “I guess that depends.”

“On what?” you ask.

He takes a deep breath and looks at you. It's a long look, a scared and hopeful one. It's like he's weighing a thousand dreams as he watches you and all you can do is wait.

“I thought I was getting over you,” he finally says. “It'd been months. Long months. Really, really long months. My mom even set me up on a couple dates with some unblooded girls from other states.”

Your stomach twists.

“Yeah?” you say, hoping that he's not about to tell you that he has moved on and this whole thing was about him saying goodbye.

“They were nice, but they...they didn't understand me. They didn't like what I do. They didn't like my jokes and they all thought Alaska is stupid.” The two of you laugh and it feels so good. He shifts his position until the two of you are nearly the same height. “I wasn't falling for someone else but I was pretending really hard like I was getting over you.”

You nod, you know what he means. You'd been going through all the motions, acting like you were moving forward when all you were doing was playing the role and hoping.

“I was going to come see you,” he said. “As soon as my shift was over that night. I was going to go right to your apartment. Everyone said I shouldn't because I'd just get hurt, but I thought that it would be worth it. I just..”

Slowly he reached into the blanket still twisted around his legs. His thick, injured fingers shook with pain as he pushed the fabric around.

“Where-hold on-it's here, I swear.”

Your heart, which has already gone through far too much, pounds all over again. Your mouth goes dry.

“Nick...”

“I almost died you know,” he says as he lifts a corner, continues to look. There's a little wetness on his brow, and you wonder if it's fear, nerves, or pain that's put it there. “And not just once. I almost died like four times.”

One of the guards cleared their throats.

“I know,” Nick said, holding up his free hand. “I know. I can't tell her anything. But you only have to look at me to see that it happened.” He went still, and bowed his head. “I did die.”

It's not even a whisper, there's no sound. It's a breath of words that you are sure the guards couldn't hear. You pounding heart turns to ice in your chest.

“What?”

But he doesn't say it again. Instead he looks up at you and his eyes are bright with a hundred emotions. “And all I could think about, was you.”

He holds out his hand. Nested there is a black velvet box. Carefully, he opens it, revealing a ring. It's made of two metals, platinum and rose gold, twisted around one another to form a very simple braid, and right there at the center is a stone in the exact same shade of blue as his spots.

“All  I thought about every day has been you,” he is saying when your ears start to work again. “And I don't want to ever have to worry again.”

You swallow twice before you can speak. “Are you proposing?”

You aren't sure if he's blushing, but his ears twitch. “Only if you're saying yes.”

“You have to ask,” you say. “You have to...ask.”

“Is it a spell? A human thing?” he says.

You shrug, because it kind of is, but mostly you just need to time to stop your thoughts from making such a commotion in your head. There are a hundred ways this could go wrong, a thousand even, but even so-

He says your name and you find that he's shifted yet again, down on one knee in front of you. “Will you marry me?”

[doc-pickles]

i won’t hesitate (for you) ch. 11

Jo is happy, at least she feels like she is. When someone from her past shows up, will her and her daughter's world ever go back to normal? Or will things change for good?

This is it, my final chapter of Hesitate... I actually cried a bit finishing this off because I’ve been working on it since early June and we’re halfway through October now. I wanted to thank you guys SO MUCH for your continued support through comments, likes, reblogs, and just general support. I know that this has taken forever to finish but I’m grateful that y’all have stuck through it with me. 

Thank you again and I hope you enjoy this final chapter.

xoxo Nina 

Pull me close and I'll hold you tight

Don't be scared 'cause I'm on your side

Know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you

I will take your pain

And put it on my heart

I won't hesitate

Just tell me where to start

I thank the oceans for giving me you

You saved me once and I'll save you too

I won't hesitate for you

  A Few Months Later… 

  “You look so handsome, I’d jump you right now if I didn’t have a surgery with Meredith to get to,” Jo grinned up at Alex as she straightened his tie, his eyes rolling as he grabbed her hands in his. “I for one am very proud that you got this office back. It’s been nice not having to fight for on call rooms when I need a nap.”

“You’re just using me for my office, you don’t even care that I’m Chief again,” Alex chuckled as Jo wore an offended look on her face at his accusation. “You sure you should be going into surgery? You’ve been pretty out of it the past day.”

Jo’s eyebrows raised, eyes narrowing at Alex as she glared at him, “Are you insinuating that I’m too pregnant to operate, Chief ?”

“No I'm telling you, as your husband , that you should take it easy,” Alex wrapped his arms around Jo, eyeing her as she continued to scowl at him. “I know you worked until your due date with Harper, but you’re taking care of a toddler and dealing with me. Maybe it’s time to take a break before you stress yourself into labor.”

Jo shrugged off Alex’s arm on her shoulder, her own arms crossed over her belly as she walked away from him. She knew she was only a week and half until her due date, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from working. 

“I’m perfectly fine Alex, I don’t need you hovering over my shoulder at all hours of the day,” Jo called over her shoulder as she walked out of his office. “I’ll see you later, I have a surgery to get to.” 

Alex watched as Jo left his office, sighing as he fell into his desk chair. He’d been Chief for two months now and had never felt a stronger need to kick his wife’s stubborn ass. Even Amelia had agreed to go on an earlier maternity leave, in fact she’d been grateful that he’d offered it to her. But Jo didn’t want to admit that she might need some help and some rest before their second child came into the world. 

“She’s gonna be the death of me,” Alex mumbled to himself as he began to sort through the paperwork on his desk. 

-

45 minutes after his wife storms out of his office, Alex’s phone dings with a text from Meredith: 

Operating in OR 3. Jo looks like shit. 

Furrowing his eyebrows, Alex decided to check out what was happening for himself. After walking down towards the operating galleries, he quietly slipped into one above Meredith and Jo’s OR. He watched with piqued interest as Meredith worked on one side of the operating table and Jo stood almost catatonic on the other side. 

“Jo, will you please go sit down,” Meredith’s voice boomed through the OR and the gallery above, her eyes moving momentarily to the woman across from her. “I can see you wincing in pain from here.” 

“They’re Braxton Hicks, I’m fine,” Alex could hear Jo’s strained tone of voice even from so far away. “Can you please stop badgering me about this? I’m fine, I’m going to work until my due date just like I did last time.”

“Last time you went into labor five days after your due date and you pushed your body so far that I had to hook you up to an IV for three days after you had Harper,” Alex’s eyebrows raised at Meredith’s words, not knowing exactly what had happened after Harper had been born. “You need to take care of yourself and your baby Jo.”

Jo’s fingers moved from her side to the operating table, gripping it tightly as she took slow and deep breaths. Alex left the gallery, moving quickly to the OR with only Jo on his mind. When he reappeared in the scrub room, he watched his wife’s body curl in on itself as she tried to remain standing upright. 

“Jo, get out of there,” Jo’s head whipped around at the sound of Alex’s voice, one hand pressed firmly against her stomach as she looked at him. “Come on, I’m not gonna ask again. You can barely stand up straight.”

Without much protest, Jo walked out of the OR and into the scrub room, ripping her mask and gown off before beginning to scrub her hands. 

“I told you I’m fine Alex,” one of Jo’s hands slipped down to the edge of the metal sink, knuckles going white as she gripped tightly. “They’re just Braxton Hicks. You don’t need to pull me out of surgery for this.”

Alex looked from his watch back to Jo, resting his hand against her back as he fixed her with a serious stare, “That’s twice in the past six minutes that you’ve had to stop what you’re doing and clench your fists. I’m pretty sure you’re having contractions. Go home babe, please I’m begging you.”

Jo groaned, turning to Alex with an angry glint in her eye as she stared him down, “I’m not going home, I am fine and I’m going to keep working. So stop nagging me.”

Taking a deep breath, Alex watched as Jo dried her hands off and turned to leave the scrub room. He grimaced as he said his next words, knowing he would piss his wife off with them, “I’m sending you on maternity leave, effective immediately. As the Chief, not as your husband.”

Jo’s entire body stiffened, stopping a foot from the door and turning back towards Alex. The angry expression on her face grew tenfold and she looked up at Alex. 

“Are you kidding me? Alex you can’t do that! I’m perfectly fine,” Jo’s voice was bordering on a scream as she pointed at Alex. “You can be concerned as my husband all day long, but you can’t use your Chief powers just because you don’t agree with what I’m doing.”

“You couldn’t even pick up a scalpel to cut in there, I’m trying to make sure you don’t end up giving birth to our kid in the middle of operating,” Alex threw his hands up, eyes narrowing at Jo. “I was perfectly content letting you stress yourself out until you just passed out from exhaustion so that maybe you’d learn a lesson, but the second you start putting other people’s jobs and lives on the line it becomes my problem as the Chief. Go home Jo and don’t come back until you're about to give birth.” 

Eyes watering, Jo stormed out of the scrub room, slamming the door behind her. Running his hands down his face, Alex let a loud groan out. The last thing he’d wanted to do was upset Jo, but her stubborn nature made things extremely difficult to work around. He knew what he’d done was a low blow, but he also knew that she wouldn’t have stopped until something happened to her or their child. 

-

It was almost 7o’clock when Alex pulled into the driveway of his and Jo’s home. Harper was fast asleep in the backseat, soft snores coming from her as Alex debated how terrible it would be if he just turned around and left. He knew Jo was going to be furious with him and he didn’t want to deal with it, but he’d promised her he would come back. He was done running and ruining things between them because he couldn’t handle a simple conversation. 

Carefully grabbing Harper and the dinner he’d picked up, Alex made his way into the house as quietly as possible. He set dinner in the kitchen and got Harper into bed before he checked on Jo. Their house, which they’d only been in for four months, was quieter than he’d ever heard it. There were no excited giggles, no music playing, no showers running. The complete and utter silence was driving him insane as he slipped into the bedroom he shared with Jo. 

She was laying in bed, on his side he noted, curled in on herself and clutching a pillow tightly. While it pained him to see her upset, he was glad that she’d at least been able to sleep for once. Jo had spent the past two nights tossing and turning in bed, sleep evading her as the baby in her womb did somersaults. Alex toed off his shoes before settling himself behind Jo, his hands running across her back as she slowly woke up. 

“Mmm what time is it,” Jo slowly turned around to press her face against Alex’s chest as best as she could with her belly between them. “I feel like I slept for three days.”

“It’s almost 7 now, Harper is asleep and I have dinner downstairs from the Chinese place you like,” Alex’s voice was low and soft as he ran his hands down to Jo’s belly, feeling the swift movements of the baby inside waking up with their mom. Jo let out a contented groan as her fingers came up to the curls at the nape of Alex’s neck, her body instinctively moving closer towards him. “I’m sorry about what happened today, you know I’d never use my power as Chief if I didn’t have to. I’m just worried about you, I don’t want you to hurt yourself. And I know you can handle it all because you're a superhero, but please let me look after you for a little bit.”

A pang of sadness ran through Alex as he realized just how much he’d missed as he watched a few tears escape Jo’s eyes. He knew this hadn’t been easy for her, the past couple months since he’d shown up throwing her whole life for a loop, but he wanted to make it up to her, he didn’t want to hurt her again. 

“Are you okay, you know pain wise? Baby still giving you a hard time,” a hard kick met Alex’s hand at his question, both he and Jo laughing at the interruption. 

“Better than before, I’m not contracting anymore,” Jo sighed, fiddling with her wedding rings as she avoided looking up at Alex. “I’m sorry… you were right about me pushing myself too much. I was in a lot of pain earlier and I shouldn’t have gone into that surgery. And… I do need to take it easy. I’m so used to just powering through all the shit that gets thrown at me by myself, I didn’t have help last time and I was with Harper for two years by myself. I love you, so freaking much Alex, but when it comes to parenting I’m not used to having someone here to help.”  

His lips pressed against her forehead, Alex held Jo tightly as he relished in the feeling of her in his arms, “I promise I’ll be here to help as much as I can. I’ll wake up every night if this kid has colic, no complaints.”

Jo chuckled, finally lifting her head and kissing Alex soundly. Her fingers wound their way back into his hair, one hand trailing down his body to rake across his chest. 

“You know, sex is supposed to help induce labor,” a grin spread across Jo’s face as Alex laughed, dipping his head down to her neck. 

“You keep that baby in there, I have a little while before my leave starts,” despite his words, Alex’s lips continued trailing down her neck, fingers following the hot trail he’d created. “Dinners gonna get cold.”

“That’s fine,” Jo’s voice was a moan as she pulled lightly at Alex’s hair. “Keep going, screw dinner.”

-

Alex is rounding his way back to his office when he sees her in the hospital again. He’d sent her on maternity leave just three days ago and she was already back, instantly raising his blood pressure. His wife had been relaxing, napping as much as she could between her manic cleaning spurts, but he could tell that she was itching to get back into the OR armed with a scalpel. 

“Jo!”

Her head swivels towards him, one hand settling on to her burgeoning stomach as she begins to walk slowly toward him. Alex can already feel his anger rising, knowing that he’d probably caught Jo trying to weasel her way into a surgery. 

“Hey, I just got here,” Jo breathed out as Alex stood in front of her. “Why are you glaring at me like I just ran over your dog?”

“You need to go home, I told you that you can’t operate,” Alex placed his hands on Jo’s shoulders, eyeing her warily as she furrowed her eyebrows. “You’re not about to trick me into letting you work just because you bat your eyelashes at me.”

“Alex, I-“

“No buts, you need to go home and rest,” Alex tried to push Jo back the way she came, but her feet stayed planted firmly on the ground. “Jo, let’s go.”

“Alex!”

He turns then, Jo’s hands gripping his arm that’s still settled on her shoulder. Her eyes are narrowed and her breathing is shallow as she stares up at him, looking almost as if she might slap him. 

“If you don’t let me talk to you, I will give birth to your child in this hallway,” Jo squeezed Alex’s arm as she took a deep breath, eyes closing as she spoke through gritted teeth. “My water broke half an hour ago, that’s why I’m here.”

Eyes blown wide, Alex finally takes in Jo’s almost disheveled state and the annoyed expression on her face as she glared at him. Her fingers were gripping his arm, nails sinking into his skin even through his lab coat as she tried to remain composed. 

“Oh shit okay, well let’s go then,” Alex pressed his hand against Jo’s back, leading her toward the maternity ward. “Wait, did you drive here? While you were in labor?”

“Let’s talk about that later, I’ve been having contractions since you left for work this morning,” Jo stopped Alex from walking further, head leaning against his shoulder as her breathing became shallow. “Jesus, I forgot how terrible this is. No more after this one, screw the extra bedrooms. I can’t push out another gigantic Karev baby.”

They slowly make their way down the halls and to the maternity ward, Jo stopping every few minutes to breathe through a contraction as Alex rubbed her back comfortingly. His gaze continued to float nervously to his watch, noticing how close Jo’s contractions were as they finally got settled into a room. Carina stepped into the room, greeting them both as she set up. “I swear if you tell me I can’t have drugs I might scream,” Jo pushed her face into Alex’s chest and let out a loud groan as Carina checked her, a laugh coming from the obstetrician. “What? Why are you laughing? That can’t be a good sign.” Looking from Jo to Carina, a grimace quickly formed on Alex's face as he realized that she’d come to the same conclusion he had on their walk over. Jo was too far along in her labor, probably almost ready to push. 

“Well your bambino has a full head of hair,” Carina smiled up at Jo, standing and motioning for the nurse standing by the door to come in. “Your baby is ready, I’m sure you will feel the need to push any minute now.” Jo’s eyes moved to Alex nervously, her expression practically begging him to help her as she grumbled, “No way, I can’t do this again. I’m not gonna do it, Alex.”

Alex took in Jo’s teary eyes and her scared expression, his hand coming up to brush her hair away from her face. She’d told him last week that she hadn’t been scared to give birth again, but the expression on her face now read otherwise, he knew her well enough to see the fear pasted on her face.

“Hey, you got this, I know you do. You are the strongest person I know,” leaning down towards her, Alex pressed his lips to Jo’s forehead, fingers swiping away the tears staining her cheeks. “You kinda have to have this baby, but I’m here for you to squeeze my hand and yell at as much as you want. Okay?” “Okay,” Jo sniffled, one hand coming up to caress Alex’s cheek. “Okay let’s do it.” -

“Hey Harps! Come to daddy!” Alex Karev didn’t think he’d ever been happier to see his daughter before, the bouncing three year old jumping from Meredith’s grasp on her and running full speed towards him. He hadn’t realized how much she’d grown just in the few months he’d been home, but feeling the solid weight of her in his arms made him realize that Harper was growing faster by the day.

“Daddy, baby?,” Harper’s hazel eyes met Alex’s own, the glint behind them the same curious look he’d seen in Jo time and again. 

“Yeah mommy had the baby, you wanna go see them,” Alex asked, eyes floating to Meredith, who wore a wide grin as she looked at the duo. “Come on, mama wants to see you!” Alex and Harper walked the short distance from the waiting room to Jo’s hospital room, both Karevs brimming with excitement as they neared the room. As he opened the door, Alex couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered at the sight of Jo cradling their newborn, their oldest settled on his hip. 

“Hey sweet pea, come here,” Jo’s voice was barely above a whisper as she beckoned Alex and Harper closer to the bed. “You wanna come meet your baby sister?”

Harper eyed the baby in her mom’s arms, a full head of dark brown curls peeking out from the pink hat she wore. The older girl wasn’t sure about the baby, but she still settled into her mom’s side contentedly, one hand reaching out to stroke her sister's cheek. “This is your little sister Mila Alexandra, but you can just call her Mila. Can you say hi to her,” Alex looked on as Harper paid careful attention to Mila, her eyes watching the baby curiously as she stretched one tiny arm out of her swaddle to grab Harper’s finger. “I think she likes you.”

He hadn’t pictured this life, never thought he’d get a second chance to fix things with Jo. But staring at his wife and their two daughters, Alex couldn’t help but realize how incredibly lucky he was. He’d come back, he’d fixed things, and he knew that he was going to be leaving any of his girls anytime soon. Jo’s fingers reach up to brush back the already unruly curls from Mila’s face, her wedding rings catching the light from the window as she settles her hand on top of the newborn's chest. 

“Why’re you standing over there? Come join us,” Jo motioned for Alex to come and sit with them, prompting him to settle Harper into his lap as he sat beside Jo. “You know, I’m happy you came back. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Well now you’ll never have to wonder.”

[superbataddicted]

Writer’s Month 2020 - Day 7

Day 7 Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Superbat

Title: The Artist and His Florist - Chapter 7 - Emotions

Bruce wasn’t at all surprised when Alfred shook his head.

Of course the doctors didn’t know. They couldn’t find the cause of Clark’s coma despite all the MRI and CT scans and tests that had been done.

That had happened to Bruce too so he wasn’t too distraughted. Instead, it only confirmed that magic was at work and what they had been worrying about, had finally come to pass.

Returning to his vigil, Bruce clutched Clark’s hand. It was warm and slightly calloused, and if he were to block out the IV drip and nasal cannula, Clark looked like he was just sleeping.

But he was not and Bruce had moved past the stage of wishful thinking.

All he wanted now was to stay by Clark’s side. He wasn’t even angry anymore. He wasn’t even hurting anymore. He only wanted to be in this chair, by Clark’s bed and just watch each inhale and exhale, and just hear each beep of the monitor.

So he was secretly glad when Dick took Jon home. The young man had been crying uncontrollably, utterly devastated at his failure to protect his master.

With his departure, all was quiet again. And Bruce could concentrate on Clark.

The only disruption left was Alfred. Bruce wished that he would go away too instead of bugging him to eat, bugging him to sleep.

Why bother him with such insignificant stuff? They were nothing compared to Clark.

“Master Bruce...”

Bruce’s brows furrowed but did not shift his gaze from Clark.

So Alfred pulled up a chair, sat down and waited.

Annoyed, Bruce turned to look at him. He knew that Alfred wouldn’t leave till he had said his piece.

“She will come soon, Master Bruce, and you have to be ready.”

Bruce nodded impatiently. Whoever and whatever, he didn’t really care. So long as they did not disturb his time with Clark.

Refusing to let it slide, Alfred grabbed Bruce’s hand, anxiety shining in his eyes.

“You must stay strong, Master Bruce. No matter how She threaten or tempt, you must not give in.”

“Does it matter?” Bruce croaked out, “It doesn’t right. Not with Clark...”

And he couldn’t go on anymore at the thought of Clark forever in this state.

“But It does!” Alfred squeezed Bruce’s hand, “For it will help save Mr Kent.”

And hope , which he had given up, flared to life.

“Tell me! What can I do so that he can be well again. I’ll do anything, Alfred, anything!”

“Just weather through the three trials She will demand. And through it all, do not, I repeat, do not give up your soulmark!” Alfred emphasised, “That is all you have to do and then the curse will end.”

Bruce stared at Alfred, the numbing calm that he had cultivated, cracking and crumbling down. All the pain and worries and fear and came gushing out, fierce and aching and heart-breaking. Bruce broke down, sobbing wretchedly and Alfred hugged him tight, his eyes wet as well.

Alfred wished that there was more he could do. But the burden had fallen on Master Bruce and it was up to him now.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 - Part 1) , Chapter 6 (Part 2)

(Next Chapter - Day 8 Prompt - Eight.)

[thadelightfulone]

The Firm - Chapter 10

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Summary: Erik has been hired to find an embezzler for an old friend. The whole gang is back at GBI, working to take down an old enemy. 

Pairing: Erik x Black!OC

Genre: Suspense

Words: 6K

CW: Implied Sexual Assault - no details

— Two Days Earlier —

Darkness greets LaNyah as she opens her eyes. There is a small window up high, casting light down into the room. A wave of nausea passes over her as she sits up, she blinks her eyes to adjust to her surroundings. There is soft and comfortable padding underneath her, she figures it is a bed, so at least she is not on some cold hard floor. Shifting the blanket that was over her, she sees her favorite blue Squirtle shirt paired with light blue denim capri pants and all-white low top Vans. The outfit she wore when she was shopping on Saturday before she was kidnapped.

LaNyah inhales deeply before bursting into tears. “Kidnapped! Oh my god, I have been kidnapped.” She lifts her hands to wipe away her tears, but feels a slight sting as she moves, she looks down to find an IV in her arm. “What the hell is going on?” She quietly whispers to herself as her tears silently fall down her face.

Looking around the space, it seems someone changed the small area into a makeshift cell. LaNyah places her hands against the walls, the feel of hard rock greets her. It would be pointless to scream, her voice will not penetrate the concrete. She starts crying again, feeling hopelessness take over, her cries echoing off the walls. LaNyah has no idea of how long she has been out or even what day it is. Bringing her legs to her chest, she curls into herself. Suddenly, the sound of steps outside the door to her small room, stop her sniffling. She lays back down, covers herself back up, and fakes sleep when she hears the doorknob turn.

“Shouldn’t she be awake by now?” A male voice asks. She hears more footsteps enter the space then stop. They are across the room. They must be looking down at her from the staircase by the door.

“Even if she isn’t, we need to move her before the boss arrives.” Another male voice, “Wake her ass up.” She hears the steps of the two men getting closer to her. LaNyah silently prays until one of the men grabbed her arm. She reaches out and scratches the closest one.

LaNyah screams, “GET OFF OF ME!!!” Continuing to claw at both men when they try to grab hold of her. She kicks one of them hard in the chest, stunning him for a moment.  

“Stupid bitch!” He stumbles back, catching his balance before yelling out, “Hit the damn button. I am not getting paid enough for this shit.”

LaNyah looks around trying to figure out what button he is referring to, she sees it and tries to move the machine away but is too late. The other guy grabs the pole and hits the button on the IV pump before she can tear the needle from her arm. The machine whirrs to life, and LaNyah watches as the asshole she kicked waves to her and fakes sleep. She sticks her middle finger up as the sedative rapidly enters her bloodstream, barely hearing the men laugh when her body tumbles to the right and off the bed. She tries to brace herself for the fall, but her arms crumble under her weight, and her head hits the ground as she ultimately passes out.

They watch her for a few minutes to make sure she is under, not taking any chances of another attack. “Pick her up. I got the machine.” LaNyah is transported out of the small room and down the hall to another in the basement.

“Where are we putting her?” He looks around the much larger, already occupied space.

“Drop that bitch on the couch.” The one holding LaNyah lays her on the couch. The second one grabs her arm, carelessly yanking the IV needle from it. “She won’t be needing this anymore.” He drops everything in a biohazard bag and seals it up, “Let’s go. I do not want to be here when the boss comes.”

The two henchmen make their way out of the room. Another set of eyes land on LaNyah, sitting up on their bed. Making their way to the couch, they look at her, grumbling, “So, this is her?”

— Present Day: Tuesday Morning —

Ashley and Stacey are now sitting in the conference room, trying to figure out Gina’s next move. They are both tapping away at their laptops, working in companionable silence. Stacey stares at her cell phone, willing it to ring. Ashley follows her eyes.

“You know that is the 5th time that you have looked at your phone in the last half hour.”

“I can’t help it. Even though we haven’t been friends for long, we talked every day.” Rubbing her shoulders, she looks over at Ashley, “This is so not like her. I could set my watch to her 90% of the time. I’m worried about her, Ash.”

“I understand I really do, but maybe she really needs this time for herself. LaNyah hadn’t called me in about 3 months before Erik showed up. Big and abrupt changes still shake her, but from what you told me, she is finding her way and trying to do a lot of the work on her own. She knows when to reach out if it becomes too much for her.” Ashley smiles brightly. “My little bird is finally learning how to use her wings.”

"Yeah, she is. She told me that if she has to work directly with Erik after all that has happened, then she wanted some time. I just figured Sunday would be enough and that she would be in on Monday like she promised.

“She needs the time to reconcile her feelings for him in order to be around him. That makes sense.” Ashley takes a sip of her tea, “Does LaNyah know that Erik likes her?”

“HA!” Stacey responds, shaking her head with an amused laugh. “No, I had to drag it out of him. But I saw it long before he did. Shoot, I had to point out that she had a crush on him. He acted like he couldn’t tell.” She looks into the office where Erik and Green are talking. “A man like that oblivious to a woman checking him out? I call bullshit.”

Ashley smirks, “No, no that’s him. It’s not obliviousness, so much as willful ignorance.” Stacey laughs, “It’s true. You see him, he grew his hair out and is much bigger, but other than that, ain’t shit changed. Erik knows when he is being gawked at, but because he has never been the relationship type -” she gestures, “Well, to my knowledge and how he was way back when. I can see how he would still have his blinders up.”

“Ashley, Nyah had a mid-meeting daydream about him.” Ashley chokes on her tea, eyes widening over the cup. “Yes, he called me in because she was non-responsive. She looked really peaceful then something jolted her out of her fantasy, she got embarrassed and wouldn’t make eye contact with him any longer that day.”

Ashley places her tea back on the table, “Erik knew then.” She nods, “But like I said, and you have found out, he is the king of compartmentalizing things. He clearly decided to take the nonchalant path when it comes to LaNyah.”

Stacey hums in agreement, “I said something about him being in trouble, and he laughed it off.”

“Oh, that’s because he had his defenses up. There was no way Erik ever thought his attraction to her could prevent him from doing any part of his job. Until it did.” Ashley looks at her watch, “You said she should be up around 11, right?”

“Yeah, after her team meeting.” Stacey down looks at her phone. “Do you think we should tell her?”

“About how Erik feels?” Stacey nods in response. “No, her feelings about him are already a lot for her. I think that his actions not matching his feelings would further confuse her. We know Erik betrayed Nyah’s trust to save himself, but I don’t think she would understand that. It might hurt more to know he willingly did that.”

“Yeah, and Erik already has a lot to deal with since he will be watching her day and night. Nyah just thought she would have to work with him again, not be babysat by a man she will have to learn to trust again.”

They both quietly ponder the conversation before letting it fade away and returning to their previous tasks. Ashley pulls up the top right screen for the account information. The lights are still bouncing around as small amounts of the more substantial money grab dipped in and out of Gina’s dummy accounts.

Ashley and Stacey work independently at the table for more than an hour. Ashley researching more information on Gina and Stacey following the military trail. Ashley stands to stretch before heading to the bathroom. She lets Stacey know that she has something to share.

When she returns, Stacey gets up to walk the room while Ashley shares what she has found. “Gina married Greg right after she graduated from college. They were together for 15 years and with his resources, who knows what she has been able to discover for her plan. She inherited everything. She provides for her nieces and nephew, but does not have any children of her own.”

“She met a man who could fund her revenge.” Ashley silently nods at Stacey’s remark. Stacey moves back to the table, running something from the conference room computer. The screen pulls up some military files for their special ops team. Continuing, Stacey looks at the images on the wall screen, “Following the trail, she must have used; we can see your name on the file from the incident. She was able to follow your career and who was on the team.” Stacey squints at the screen. “Ashley…”

Ashley looks up at the wall, blinking at the mess of reports on the screen. Two papers standing out to her. She shakes her head as she accepts what it means, "Oh no.”

“Yeah, I think we need to tell the guys.”  They both sigh deeply, taking in the new information.

“We already know why she is after me, but what about everyone else?” Ashley thinks aloud while tapping away at her laptop.

Stacey is standing by the windows, looking out over downtown Irvine, “Everything you have.” Turning back to Ashley, “She obviously feels like you are the reason her twin brother is dead. She wants everything that you care about to crash and burn while you watch. Why not your husband’s company?”

“GBI, sure. You ruin my husband and his company, then you hit me. I understand that, but” pointing at the screen, “that does not look like she is coming for only Alex and me.”

“Yeah, I know.” The two women share a knowing look.

— Meanwhile in Green’s Office —

“So, she got you too, huh?” Alex cuts to the chase. Erik takes a seat but says nothing, “It’s ok. LaNyah has that effect on everyone.”

“Yeah, but I’m not everyone.”

Alex rolls his eyes as he stands in front of his desk. “Stacey is right, you know.” Erik looks up at him, “You can care about someone and protect them at the same time. To me, those go hand in hand.”

“I have never seen that.” Alex waves his hands, “Ok, but you and Ashley are different; you were already attracted to her when that happened,” Erik closes his eyes as recognition dawns on him, recalling the discussion from the day before. “Yeah ok, I see what you mean.”

“I get that this is new for you, and you are feeling like a fish out of water, but is it really a bad thing to care for someone? To want someone? I mean, aren’t you tired of being alone?”

“What does being alone have to do with anything?”

“Erik, do you know why Ashley was worried when she discovered LaNyah’s interest in you?”

Erik acting unbothered answers, “Based on her assumption that I slept with Stacey, could it be my track record with women?”

“Yes and no.” Erik scoffs at him, “Can you blame her? If we even saw you with someone, we knew not to remember her face or her name. No use if you know that you will never see them again.”

"Ok, ok, point made. But why no?” Erik gestured for him to continue.

“Her first concern is LaNyah’s well-being. After everything Ashley went through pulling herself together, only to find out children were no longer an option for her; she threw herself into school and work. Ashley needed to find an outlet for what she was feeling and all the love she has to give. It speaks through her work. Having a case like LaNyah’s land on her desk was kismet.” Erik has been nodding his head in understanding while Alex explained, but he shuddered and took a deep breath, realizing the turn this conversation was about to take. “That college party broke her, Erik. If you thought what LaNyah had been through up to that point was bad,” Alex shakes his head, blinking back tears, voice breaking, “She almost didn’t make it.”

Erik releases the breath he had been holding. Jaw clenched, balled up fists by his side, and through gritted teeth, “So, you know about that?”

“Yes, and Ashley knew you would discover it as well. Look at the business you are in; you know what to look for and how to get it. There is no way you did not complete a deep dive when you looked into her background.”

Erik stands, releasing the tension from his body. He starts to pace the area in front of Alex’s desk, “Ashley saw herself in LaNyah.”

Alex leans back on his desk and nods. “The same way, you and I gravitated to Ashley and treated her like family, naturally protective of her. Essentially, LaNyah became our daughter as soon as she finished the program.”

Erik walks back towards Alex, “So, you understand then.” Alex shrugs, “Even with my attraction to her, I can’t get involved.” He rushes out.

“Says who? Did Ashley and I say anything about it?” Alex eyes Erik, who stopped suddenly, “Hell, does LaNyah even know? Because Stacey clearly could tell, and she saw it from both sides.”

Erik looks away from Alex, “No, she hasn’t said ‘Boo’ to me since the day she threw me out of her office.”

“How bad was it?”

“She walked to her door, opened it, and yelled for me to get out. When I made it to the door and reached for her, she flinched. She had tears in her eyes as she quietly asked me to go, and then slammed the door shut as soon as I was on the other side.” Erik huffs, “Total silence ever since. I am a non-entity even when we are in the same room.”

“Well, Mr. Bodyguard. It is time for you two to start speaking again since we need to keep LaNyah safe.”

Not paying attention to Alex’s comment, Erik carries on, “You know Stacey asked me if I wasn’t making a move on LaNyah because of what she has been through.”

“And?”

“It’s not that; it was never that. I don’t look at LaNyah like she is damaged goods. She was dealt a bad hand and encountered more than her fair share of monsters along the way.” With a pained expression and slow stride, he makes his way to the windows. "Once, she opens up, and you really see her. She shines so brightly like you can’t miss that shit. LaNyah doesn’t need someone who can easily remind her of her monsters.”

“You and Ashley, I swear.” Alex laughs. “You don’t know what LaNyah does or doesn’t need. What she is strong enough to handle now.” He claps Erik on the back, standing next to him in front of the windows. “You know why, because LaNyah doesn’t even know that yet. This is the farthest out of her comfort zone and routine she has ever been.” Erik abruptly jerks out of Alex’s hand.

“That’s it!” Erik rushes out of the office and into the conference room, breaking Ashley and Stacey from their thoughts. When Alex makes it out of his office, he starts talking. “You told me that LaNyah follows a routine. Clearly, not just with work but home and any other activities.”

“Sure, she does. It gives her control.” Ashley says.

“Where was she when you called her on Saturday, Stacey?”

“She was in the midst of her weekly shopping. There are like three different stores she goes to for different items.”

“Does she go to them at the same time and in the same order every week?”

“I think so. Why? What are you getting at?” Stacey inquires.

They all watch as Erik pulls Ashley’s laptop towards him and starts typing away.

He throws his search up on the screen. Ashley leans into Alex. “What were you two talking about in there?”

“LaNyah and feelings. I know he is worried about her. She hasn’t said a word to him since the ‘interrogation’ in her office.” He whispers to her.  

“Still convinced that there is no one in the world out there for him?” Alex nodded her way. “I would approve.”

After a quick coughing fit, he looks at her, “Really?”

“Yeah, LaNyah deserves what we have, and well, why not him?” Ashley shrugs. “We know that he is capable of caring for someone beyond thinking of it as part of his job.”

Stacey chuckles, having heard the whole exchange. “Now, someone tell him that.” She points at the man in question. They all smile until they see Erik frowning at the screen.

Erik traces his fingers along a path on the wall and stops on a grayed out box, “Something’s wrong here.” He steps back to let them read the information as he heads for the door, “I gotta go!”

—

Erik pulls up in front of LaNyah’s apartment building. He walks through the parking lot and looks over the covered spaces for her car. He doesn’t see it anywhere and rounds the building to the front. Taking the stairs 2 at a time, he reaches the 3rd floor. Standing in front of 3F, he knocks loudly. Yelling her name, hoping she would answer the door. He tries to call her phone, listen for any ringing in the apartment. Nothing. He reaches for his lock pick set when he hears the door behind him open.

"Excuse me, what are you doing?” Erik turns around to see a young black woman holding a baby on her hip, standing in the doorway.

“I’m sorry, did I wake him?” He looks down at the little boy who was yawning and rubbing his eyes due to the harsh hallway lighting.

“No, but why are you screaming at her door? Who are you?” She steps outside to get a better look at him. Erik is dressed in some black slacks, a gray polo shirt, and black driving loafers. He relaxes his stance and shakes his head as he watches her pupils dilate while looking him over. She smiles up at him when she finally makes it back to his face.

He rolls his eyes and exhales quietly, trying to remain calm. “I’m Erik. A work friend of LaNyah’s. Have you seen her?”

She walks closer, holding her hand out to him, “Hi Erik, I’m Tiffany.” He acknowledges her but doesn’t take her hand. Tiffany drops her hand, scoffing at his expectant look.

They both turn when they hear someone coming down the hall. Erik steps back, leaning on the door to LaNyah’s apartment. It is an older man who looks between Tiffany and Erik.

“Young lady, don’t you already have a man?” He points to the little one in her arms. A choking sound comes from behind him, but he keeps looking at Tiffany.

“Man, Mr. Maxwell. Mind your business.” She waves him away, moving her baby to her other hip.

“I would if your business was conducted behind closed doors, Tiffany.” Erik puts his fist up to cover his laughter. Mr. Maxwell swiftly turns to face Erik. “And you boy, ain’t you got some business anywhere but here?”

Erik moves away from the door, straightening up to his full height. “My business is here, sir. I am looking for the woman who lives in this apartment.” He points behind him.

“Oh, Miss LaNyah?” Erik nods, “You know what?” He scratches at his greying beard. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen her since Saturday morning. I passed her before she left to run her errands. I usually see her on Sunday for Wash Day, too, but not this week.”

Erik clasps his hands together in front of him. “Tiffany?”

“No, I haven’t seen her since Friday night when she came home from work.” Erik’s face falls, Tiffany and Mr. Maxwell watch him. “Is everything ok? Where’s LaNyah?”

"I don’t know, but I will find out.” He starts making his way down the hall, facing them, “Thank you for your help.” Erik turns around and runs towards the stairs.

—

Alex is standing near the screen while Ashley and Stacey are huddled together in front of a laptop when Erik bursts into the conference room.

“We were too late!” Everyone watches as he slams his hands on the table. “FUCK!”

Ashley’s voice falters, “Erik, what are you talking about?”

“She’s gone.” He looks up at them with a distressed air. “LaNyah is gone,” Ashley screams, and Stacey pulls her into a hug. “No one has seen her since Saturday.” He walks to the screen and points at the spot he noticed before leaving. “Her phone signal dies here mid-day Saturday. Probably not too long after she spoke with Stacey.”

Alex looks at the distraught women, “Erik, I need you to calm down and listen. There is more.”

He turns on Alex, and impatiently asks, “What do you mean, more?”

Stacey speaks up from where she is holding Ashley, “We did more searching this morning and found Gina’s hit list.”

“Hit List?” He rubs his temples, “Is she going after the whole team?”

“That’s the thing. The list only has three names on it.” Alex pulls up another screen. Erik quickly surveys the documents on the screen.

“When did she pull these documents up?” Erik flops down into the nearest chair. “Do we have a date on her search?”

“Three weeks ago.” Stacey releases Ashley while Alex takes her place, holding her. “She has taken out at least 7 of her own people over the last two years, tracking down all this information.”

“We discovered that she was able to find every member of our team except one.” Ashley softly interjects, “Until now.” She looks over to him. “I’m so sorry, Erik.”

He waves away Ashley’s concern. “How did she manage to get unredacted copies of these files?” He enlarges one of the reports. “This clearance to access these goes all the way to the top.”

“Somebody either gave her their login information, or she is paying out the ass for it. Either way, you were added to the list, so she must have figured out you were the missing team member.” Alex states.

“Who is Killmonger? He sounds scary as hell.” Stacey looks back at them as they all avoid her stare. She points to the report. "It says he single-handedly took out 5 men who were trying to ambush one of his teams.”

“Stacey, drop it.” Ashley pleads with her. “We should focus on finding Nyah.”

“Come on. You guys obviously know him.”

“Stacey!”

"What? I mean, with skills like his, we should reach out to him to help us find LaNyah and get rid of the vengeful bitch.”

Alex stifles a laugh while Ashley punches him. "She does have a point.” Stacey looks over to Erik, who has his back to them, intensely staring at the screen.

“Erik?” He doesn’t respond. Instead, he stands up stoically and slowly turns around. He appears bigger and taller, his eyes darkened, and his energy is threatening, murderous even. He looks at Ashley and Alex. They nod their heads in understanding.  

Sternly, he starts making commands of everyone. “Bridges, I need you to look for any properties that Gina owns. Green, follow me. There is someone we need to speak with downstairs.” Ashley pulls her laptop across the table, Alex stands up and walks to Erik while Stacey pops up, ready to speak. “Sit. Down. Stacey. Bridges will fill you in.”

Stacey watches as Erik and Alex walk to the elevators, she sits back down with a huff. She looks over to Ashley. “What just happened?”

“You asked for Killmonger.” She shakes her head methodically as a sly grin breaks across her face. Shrugging her shoulder, “Now, you got him.” She pulls up another document on the screen. It is a dossier for one, Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens.

—

As the elevator doors close, Green hits the button for the 31st floor and looks at Stevens, “How are we playing this, Kill?”

Erik is standing at attention, staring directly at the closed doors. “The team thinks I am recruiting for one of your special assignments. I have made my decision, and we are going to tell Mr. Stone in person.”

Green mirrors Stevens as the elevator descends the final two floors. He rolls his shoulders back, straightening his stance. Neither man thought they would be back in this same position presenting a united front, nearly 20 years later. He takes a moment to prepare to do his part, backing any move that Kill makes. It isn’t about him, it never was. It’s something they started years ago and will continue to do until the end, protect Bridges and now LaNyah.

The elevator bell dings as they reach the Accounting floor. When the doors open, the two men walk out of the car side by side. They approach the front desk where Sandi sits. She looks up at them and immediately stops what she is doing.

“Mr. Green,” she acknowledges each man, “Mr. Stevens, how can I help you, gentlemen?”

Green tries to keep the menace out of his voice, “Please call Matt to the front. We need to speak to him.”  

“Oh, he must have gotten the special assignment position. How wonderful!” She picks up her phone and calls his office, “Matt, Mr. Green and Mr. Stevens are out here. They want to speak to you.” A dial tone sounds on the line, Sandi stares at the phone and puts it back on the base. “He hung up. He must be on his way.” She cheerfully explains.

Immediately, Green runs back towards his office while Stevens stays in front, waiting for Matt to make his way to him. Matt zig zags his way through the assembly of cubicles that are back to back. Green spots him and cuts him off, forcing Matt to run along the right side of the floor.  

“Stevens, on your left!” Kill hears the directive from Green and moves to his left at the exact moment Matt comes into his line of sight. He is running too fast to stop and runs straight at Stevens. Matt shifts to pass him on the right when Kill’s arm comes out, clotheslining him.

“Going somewhere, Matthew?“ Matt hits the carpeted floor hard. Stunned, he has no time to recover before Green comes from behind him and snatches him up. Kill glares at him as he grabs Matt’s other arm, and they walk him back to the elevator. Matt slumps over, forcing them to carry his dead weight onto the car when it arrives.

Green and Stevens drag him off the elevator and into the conference room. Bridges pulled a fold-up black chair towards the empty area in preparation for Matt’s arrival. The women get to work tying him up once he is set on the chair. Standing up, Stacey and Bridges move back to stand next to Green and Stevens.

Matt looks up at them and starts whimpering. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry. Please don’t’ kill me. I have a baby on the way.”

“How many properties does she own?” Kill asks.

“We are looking for anything in an industrial area. The bigger and more isolated, the better.” Green adds.

“25 in total across the U.S. 7 in California alone,“ Ashley responds.

"Do you think they are still in the state? She has a 72-hour head start over us.” Stacey interjects.

Green nods his head, “Yeah, they are still here. Gina wants to draws us out. She’s not taking them out of the state.”

“Besides, dipshit over there has an 8-month pregnant fiancée. Flying would be the fastest way to get them as far away as possible, but it’s a no go with Laura, too.” Kill watches Matt, who has been blubbering in the background until he heard Laura’s name.

“W-what? Laura is at her mother’s house in Bakersfield.” He sniffs, “I spoke with her a few days ago.”

Ashley asks, “What day?” Stacey pulls up a map and spots the grayed out location tag. “According to this, her phone signal died Friday night.” Matt looks at the screen and notices that the phone went out at her mother’s house.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” He struggles in the chair, trying to drag it forward. “It was on Friday. Let me call her mom. I can prove that she is there.”

“Stacey, call Laura’s mother. Put it on speaker.” Kill stands behind Matt, “Get yourself together, she already doesn’t like you.”

The phone rings 3 times before it is picked up. “Hello.”

Matt clears his throat before speaking, “Hey Martha, can I speak with Laura?”

“Matt? She ain’t here. My friend Mrs. Williams offered to take her on a spa retreat for the weekend. She was picked up on Friday night.” Matt’s face falls at her statement. Bridges and Stacey have another map pulled up on the screen, it has pins on all of Gina’s properties in California.

“Did they mention which spa?“ Matt’s voice starts to crack, and Kill squeezes his shoulders.

“Yeah, I think they said La Jolla. Leave her alone, Matt. This is her free time to relax before the baby comes.”

“Yeah, I understand. Thanks, Martha.” Stacey hangs up the phone while Matt breaks down. Through his tears, he looks up at the screen, “Gina has a warehouse where she conducts business in San Diego.” Stacey circles the location and texts the address to everyone.

“We leave in an hour.” Matt relaxes into the chair, “Oh no, don’t get comfortable. You are coming with us.” Kill snarls at him.

—

Something is wrong. LaNyah wakes up with a dull headache. She crosses her arms over her face as her mind repeats the same queries over and over. How will anyone know she is missing? Someone has to be looking for her, right? Who would want to take her, and for what? She has no enemies and keeps to herself. How will anyone find her? She exhales out all those feelings and decides it is time to deal with her reality, whatever it may be at this point.  

She looks up at the ceiling and knows that she is not in the same room as before. She closes her eyes again, counts to 100, stretches out, and slowly sits up on the bed. Looking at her attire, she notices someone changed her clothes. No longer in her cute shopping outfit, she is in a huge plain white tee with gray sweatpants and white socks.

She shudders, thinking one of those men might have touched her while she was unconscious. Closing her eyes once more to center herself, not wanting to dwell on that, she tries to think of anything else. Still not knowing what day it is, her mind shifts to work and her chosen family – Alex, Ashley, and Stacey.

LaNyah finds herself smiling, even thinking about Erik. He may have been an inconsiderate jerk to her for whatever reason, but it’s not like she hates him. She knows he has been trying to apologize to her since then. Maybe she should finally hear him out. LaNyah opens her eyes and resigns herself to just that when she gets out of there.  

People are looking for her. She grins to herself, then laughs. If anyone is looking for her, it would be all of them. Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine. She starts humming to herself until she hears some movement from the other side of the room. For the first time, she realizes this room is much bigger than her other makeshift cell.

It reminds her of a college dorm split in half down the middle. Each side identical with a small bed against the wall, a chair, and a lamp. In front of her is a big shared living area complete with a couch, matching side chairs, and a coffee table. So, she moved from a private room to their dormitory, that’s cute. The movement draws her attention again. Who could be on the other side of the room?

LaNyah scoots to the end of the bed, throwing her legs over when she notices the bruising on her arm. Must have happened when they removed the IV line from her arm. She rubs the area, knowing it is going to leave a dark spot there even after the bruise disappears. She gets up following the noise, some soft grunting coming from the other bed against the wall.

She can only make out a lump in the center. The grunting grows louder the closer LaNyah gets to the bed. She kneels beside the woman bent over in pain. “Are you ok? Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Get away from me.” Laura shoves her away. “This is all your fault. Why did you have to be such a little kiss ass?” Not expecting that LaNyah falls back without supporting herself.

“What are you talking about?” She gets up and dusts herself off. “I don’t even know you.” LaNyah turns around and goes back to her side of the room.

“Are you kidding me? You’re Green’s pet project. You are trying to steal my fiancé’s job.” Laura clutches at her stomach.

"I really have no idea what you are talking about. But you may want to calm down before you cause the baby any unnecessary stress.” LaNyah watches as Laura yells out again, from pain or frustration, she can’t tell.

“Matthew Stone!” LaNyah heart drops, hearing his name. His fiancée is stuck in this room with her. How can that be? Is he the one responsible for the missing money at GBI?

“Matt?” She shakes her head, “You are mistaken. I am being framed for embezzlement, and you think I am trying to steal his damn job.” LaNyah hisses at Laura.

“Ladies, ladies. There is no need to argue.” Both of their heads snap towards the door. Walking down the stairs is the older woman that LaNyah helped before she was snatched from the parking lot. Laura starts crying upon recognizing the woman.

“Are you here to kill us?” LaNyah looks suspiciously at Laura.

“Not yet, dear.” Gina walks over to the couch, “Please join me, and I will explain everything.“ She sits on the right side, pointing to the left for Laura, who waddles over and sits beside her, “and LaNyah, you can sit in this chair to my right.”

“H-how do you know my name?” LaNyah quietly asks, “W-who are you?”

“Come, come. I promise to tell you everything before your friends arrive.” She pats the arm of the chair. LaNyah slowly makes her way over, and plops down into the chair, before curling up with her arms around her legs. “There we are.” Gina claps her hands together and lays them in her lap. “Once upon a time – or rather, 18 years ago is where this story begins.”

Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you for all the love and support for this story. Special shout out to the lovely, @soufcakmistress for letting me pick her brain. 

Taglist: @killmongersaidheyauntie @muse-of-mbaku @panthergoddessbast @youreadthatright @princessstevens @eye-raq @stark-red19 @kreolemami @bidibidibombaclaat @iamrheaspeaks @missumuch1918 @simplyyamberr @cheychey10142 @ajspencer1892 @chrismarcs @loosewindmill @sydneebleu @semianta @eyeknowmywrites @alexundefined @itsjustmezari @goddessofthundathighs @guccixcucci @kissmyafropuff @gimmeface @fd-writes @jozigrrl @soufcakmistress @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @shaekingshitup @localtrapgod @post-woke @theesotericqueen

[human-trash-fire]

Beautiful Disaster: Chapter 5 (Pynch Soulmate AU)

Alrighty my loves, this chapter has been a labor of love from the beginning. As you continue reading you will see art pieces and each is correlated with a song (those will be at the end), and references yet again will be made to the EMFS playlist (Ronan’s rehab playlist- I’ve actually made it on spotify! you can find it here)

As usual you can find this story on Ao3 @ glam_reaper 2 if you’re interested <3

TW: Mention of suicide attempt, a panic attack though not super descriptive, cannon typical language.

Iv.

You,

I made a friend last week.

I know for most people that wouldn’t be a big deal, but I assume by now You understand what that means for someone like me. I guess “friend” may be a generous term? I don’t know if we are there yet, Blue definitely disagrees with him “on principle.” 

You see, President Cellphone as she calls him, or Richard Campbell Gansey III (I know, what a douchey fucking name) is all boat shoes and privledge and perfect teeth. Gansey isn’t someone I’d normally associate with mind you, Henry kind of met my quota for rich extroverts in the inner circle, and yet…

So, here’s the story. I’m writing my last letter right? And I was so fucking lost. I decided to walk home from Nino’s- I thought maybe it would help me settle. And there, right around the corner is this fucking ‘73 camero. It should have been beautiful, really.. A classic like that? It’s a dream to look at. Only this fucking thing is the UGLIEST color of candy orange you could ever imagine… And it’s blowing smoke all over the damn place. I was honestly going to leave boat-shoes to call his daddy or mechanic or what have you, but he looked so confused. I offered to help him out and was able to get it running long enough to get to Boyd’s.

I expected him to just drop off “The Pig” (the car) like any normal person and come back for it, only I apparently made “quite the impression.”

Gansey ended up staying with me, prattling on about his Masters History program and some welsh king the ENTIRE time I worked on the damn car. At first I was tuning him out, but without realizing it I became completely entranced by the whole story. I’ve never seen such passion for anything, and I have VERY spirited friends.

He has one of those voices you know? The kind that can stop a room, raise an army, lead a nation. The kind that demands to be heard without ever having to raise itself.

That’s Gansey though.

I think he’ll be good for me, I don’t think he’d give me much of a choice in the matter though to be honest. He kind of adopted me this week? That should bother me and yet, being around him is just… It’s being included. It’s a sense of purpose.

I think he needs it too, he doesn’t seem to talk about negative things but you can tell, he’s haunted by something. That’s what solidified it for me really. He may be a senator’s son but he’s seen some shit. 

I wish you could have met him, I wonder if you would have been as intrigued by him as I find myself. 

Blue is being a total idiot about him, but I’m about 82% sure it’s because she is into him. I know for sure the feeling is mutual. It took Gans approximately 15 minutes after meeting Blue to ask me for her life story, offend her beyond measure, and then haul ass out of Nino’s. It was the first time I’d seriously laughed in so long. Have you ever been second-hand embarrassed for someone? It was that. 

I’m going to wrap this up now though, I need to head to Nino’s for my shift, Blue’s working so of course Gans is stopping by. He said he’s bringing one of his best friends with him, some dude named Noah. Apparently he’s pretty cool, so I’m moderately less apprehensive. He said he wished he could bring his other best friend/ his and Noah’s third roommate but the guy is staying with family for a few months or something. Idk? He doesn’t talk about the other roommate much. I honestly don’t even think he’s ever said his name. Who gives a shit though, I can barely handle one new friend, let alone a 3-pack of Ganseys. Good God… I hope Noah isn’t another Gansey…. Fuck.

Welp.

Here goes nothing.

*****

It started with a not-so-subtle idea from the esteemed Dr. Allen. “Show me what happened.” Ronan was never great with words before all this, and since… When he spoke it was usually a litany of curse words. So Dr. Allen had suggested art. In the weeks since his entombment in this fine rehabilitation center, Ronan had kind of already been doing what he was being asked to do now. Though, he didn’t mention it to Allen. He’d spent countless hours sketching his life, the whole thing, in snapshots inside that beautiful leather sketchbook Gansey had given him. 

He started at the beginning, pictures of Aurora and his brothers, the Barns, his father playing guitar by the fire. He drew their family vacations, the cows he used to sneak out and sleep beside when he was a child, the feeling of winning the Tennis State Championship when he was 15. He drew the bad things too, his nightmares, his drug-trips, that old stained couch in the basement of Kavinsky’s house. He put every piece of himself, all 22 years of memories down in that book, woven together with song lyrics in the margins. 

So when Dr. Allen asked him to look specifically to his addiction and create, he didn’t see a problem. He needed to return to school with a series anyways, Declan had called to inform him that strings had been pulled to allow him to finish his final semester at Georgetown, but he needed to walk in with something to show at the January exhibition. Two birds, and all that.

He settled on 7 pieces, each done in oils on canvas, each accompanied by a song. 7 moments in the life of his battle with addiction, from the beginning to now. With each stroke of his brush he felt infinesmally lighter, pouring his grief into the images before him. 

It started with “The Fall.” His father’s murder in reds and greys; fracturing lines and deep shadows. He mixed his paints with tears and used his heart to drag color across the canvas. For the first time in years, Ronan allowed the memory to consume him. He’d re-lived it plenty of times in his nightmares, but this was different. His hands shook, jagged strokes of anger and confusion bleeding through. He painted the brief moment, the final moment, when his world was whole before his teenage mind finally realized what it was he was looking at. His last free breath. And he painted his screams, the cacophony of pain, endlessly mixing with sirens until his vocal chords gave out. 

He drowned the canvas in un-kept promises and hung it out to dry with childhood dreams.

Then came “Chasing the Void.” It was a story told in stark lighting. High beams on a backroad, swirling smoke and broken bottles. It was white glasses and white-powder lines on shark-nosed hood. It was going 115mph, bones rattling with the beat of the bass in his sound system. Ronan painted a black tattoo, used the blood on his knuckles to tint bloodshot eyes. His brush moved with his mother’s disappointment and his brother’s anger. Whimsical lines and Gansey’s head shaking when he found Ronan passed out yet again. He painted the highs and lows when sobriety reminded him that he hated the face that stared back at him in the mirror. 

Each new piece he added to the collection was brought to Dr. Allen’s office. Together they worked through each memory associated with the piece and slowly Ronan felt the weight on his chest lighten. 

Gansey visited every Monday and Friday like clockwork. He kept Ronan apprised to all the goings on of Monmouth and updates on Matthew and Declan. Ronan never asked for them, but he appreciated it regardless. His current obsession though seemed to be a new friend, Adam something. He had been going on for 30 minutes now about how this man single-handedly raised the Pig from the dead. Ronan tuned out most of the conversation, but nodded at what he assumed were appropriate moments while sketching.

“Ronan, are you even paying attention?” Gansey asked, irritation only slightly evident.

“Mmm?” Ronan hummed. “For sure. Pig. Smoke. Some new guy.”

“Essentially. I was saying that Noah and I are heading to his second job, the man works 2 jobs and is getting a masters can you believe it? Anyways Nino’s, so Noah can finally meet him and Blue. Have I mentioned her yet?” 

Blue? He thought. Who the fuck names their kid Blue. “Once or twice.”

“Well they both work this afternoon, so I assume we’ll just hang there until they get off. Then maybe grab a bite. I wish you could come, I’m sure you’d get along nicely with Adam.” Gansey said, choosing to ignore the previous sarcasm and barrell on. Excelsior. 

“Doubt it.” Guy sounds like a douche.

“On that note, thank you for another lovely visit. I’ll see you Monday, Ronan.” Gansey gathered his coat and made his way to the door with a final wave.

Ronan waved back with a single finger and a saccharine “Bye, Dick.” Then shoved his Airpods back into his ears and lost himself in the EMFS playlist.

*****

As Adam gathered the tub of dirty dishes from above the trash and made his way back to wash them, he was lost in thought. These last two weeks, recent events, had been so much and yet he strangely was beginning to feel some semblance of peace. He knew that Blue had wanted him to write letters to help him cope. If he was admitting to it helping, he also needed to be honest with himself in noting that it may have been hurting just as much. He was falling in love with a ghost. A figment of his imagination that he could tell his every secret too, someone who listened without judgment; Someone who never asked more of him than he could handle. It wasn’t healthy, wasn’t what Blue had intended, of that he was sure. But, if it brought him peace and allowed him to sleep without seeing cold, dead eyes, then what was the harm?

He rinsed the mugs and plates loading them efficiently into the dishwasher, and dried his hands. As he moved to toss the towel into the bin, he heard the bell chime above the cafe door. He made his way slowly to the front, knowing that Blue was currently handling the register meant that he didn’t need to rush. On his way down the hallway he stopped to straighten a missing cat flier on the community bulletin board, taking a moment to snap a picture of the cat in question so he could be on the lookout, then continued toward the front; eyes glued to his phone.

He rounded the corner towards the coffee bar to the tune of laughter, it seemed Gansey had arrived. His eyes found Blue first. For all her insistance that she loathed the man in question, she was positively glowing, head tossed back in a hearty laugh. Lost in the bubble of charm Gansey operated in. 

“-And so I asked him, mind you I’ve had a lot to drink at this point, ‘Hey senator, why do you fucking hate poor peo-‘ Oh! Adam” Ganseys story of embarrassing his mother at one of her Republican fundraisers interrupted, as he caught sight of Adam sliding behind the bar.

“Hey Gans,” He smiled. 

“My apologies, this is Noah.” Gansey stepped to the side to reveal the man in question, and Adam’s breath stopped. 

There, eyes blue and wide with shock, mouth agape stood the man from the alley. The one whose scream still haunted Adam in the dark, solitary hours of sleep. The one that began his every nightmare of that night.

He was different now, tears weren’t pouring from his eyes to dance across the plains of his smudgey face. His blonde hair free of blood was slightly tousled, and his clothes were clean, albeit a little disheveled. 

“No,” the word was a broken noise, barely a word at all, closer to a sob. Gansey and Blue looked frantically between the two for what seemed like an eternity before Noah spoke.

“It’s you…” 

“Who? Noah, you know Adam?” Gansey’s voice was quietly confused.

Adam began to shake his head slowly, increasing with speed as his breath finally returned to him; Erratic and wild. Crocodile tears blurred his vision, and he finally croaked a simple question, “What… What was his name?”

“Ronan.”

“Oh, god” Blue breathed. 

Adam ran, desperately fleeing the scene and chorus of his name called from the front. Ronan, his name was Ronan. Adam couldn’t breathe. His pain fresh, an un-mendable wound reopened now that he had a name to grieve. He paused, only long enough to grab his messenger bag from the back, and took the alley door. 

Then he ran, faster than he’d ever remembered running. Tears turning the colors of the world around him to a haunting watercolor. His breath came in painful stabs, each beat of his bleeding heart an excruciating truth.

He somehow made it back to his apartment. The moment the door closed behind him he fell against it and slid to the floor. Ronan Ronan Ronan-

“R-Ronan.” He spoke the name the first time aloud, the feeling of its weight on his tongue was an answer to a question he’d been asking for a month. For a lifetime.

Adam didn’t know how long he sat on the floor, grief taking time and twisting it in on itself. An amalgam of pain, hopelessness, and questions. Gansey, Gansey knew Ronan, knew Noah. Noah the boy he’d last seen carted away in the back of an ambulance covered in red red red. Noah, who’d screamed for help like the world was shattering. Noah, who’d clung tightly to the shredded arms of a bleeding man in a dark alley.

Help me, his mind screamed, his internal voice morphing into Noah’s from that night. 

Help me, I’m not okay…

A key twisting in the lock above his head brought his attention to the present. Adam pushed away from the door, and waited as Blue made her way into his dark apartment. Night had fallen sometime since he’d been here, on the floor, lost in the alley. Lost in a name.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Th-that was-”

“I know. Noah told us after you left. Adam, there’s… Adam. I need to tell you something.”

It was a concentrated effort to drag his gaze from the space between their bodies on the floor to meet her eyes. Lights from the street poured through the window in the living room, painting Blue’s honey warm skin in a haunting glow. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, so he waited. He watched. She brought a trembling hand to his, her brown eyes lined with silver, she squeezed.

“Adam, he’s alive.” 

A sob born of heartbreak and pain tore from his chest, he couldn’t form words. He broke then, completely and wholly. Blue came to cradle his head against her chest as he cried. Every hope he’d killed since the alley came barreling to the surface; All the pain and confusion, love and questions, beating like waves against the shores of his mind. Some minutes later he finally raised his head and met Blue’s eyes, her smile was wet and broken. He dragged his hand under his nose, across his eyes, and finally found the word to the question he needed to ask. “How?”

So Blue told him. Apparently, him finding Noah and Ronan in that alley, the tourniquet he’d made of his scarf, that extra minute he’d bought him had been enough. The doctors were able to stitch his wounds, and though it had been a close call, he’d pulled through. She explained that he’d had a hard life, though Gansey wouldn’t give details because he insisted those were Ronan’s to share when he was ready. He did however give her basic facts. Ronan Niall Lynch is an artist, a senior at Georgetown. He’s an orphan, and a brother. He’s an addict in recovery at a facility in Arlington, and Gansey’s third roommate. 

Blue explained that, when Adam was ready Gansey and Noah wanted to meet with him, to talk more. She offered to accompany him when that time came, but they all agreed they wouldn’t push him until he was ready. “Thank you,” he’d said to Blue. For getting the information. For telling him. For allowing him space. She understood that his history made this difficult, an addict for a soulmate was something he would need time to process. She eventually asked if he wanted to be alone and when he’d told her “yes” she kissed his forehead, and made her way to the door.

“Adam,” she paused, and he looked up. “We’ll wait on your text okay? Whenever you’re ready. But please check in so I know you’re safe.”

“I will.”

With a perfunctory nod she slid back out the door. 

Adam spent another minute in silence before dragging himself from the floor. He made his way in a daze to his desk and he collapsed into his chair. Slowly, he pulled out a blank sheet of paper. 

His hand shook.

He took a deep breath.

He wrote.

V

Ronan,

You’re alive…

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

Art Pieces and their correlating songs (linked):

“The Fall”  The War- SYML

“Chase The Void”  For What It’s Worth- Malia J

[iamwhelmed]

Homesick: Chapter 7

Aaaand it’s finally here! Sorry this took so long, ladies and gents!

Summary: Raven finds herself carrying Beast Boy's child and struggles with the fear of losing him and the impending responsibility of being a mother; Starfire finds Robin in a precarious position with another woman. The two leave the tower to live on their own for awhile, just to figure things out. Beast Boy and Robin may be losing their minds, and Cyborg tries to keep everyone together.

Read it on AO3

Read it on Fanfiction.net

Her brain was splitting before she opened her eyes, like the darkness she was accustomed to taking comfort in had taken instead to hammering at her head with Robin's bo staff. She winced and raised one hand to her head, only to have it meet some resistance. She cracked an eye open and found an IV taped to her hand. She glanced at the bag, hoping against all hope that those weren't painkillers because no, had Starfire not told them she was pregnant? Then again, she hadn't remembered it being Starfire who'd handed her off, though she recalled the light consoling brush of her fingers, sweeping the hair out of her eyes. Actually, she didn't remember much at all of the trip to the hospital. Red X attacked, she ran to tell a guard (so the guard could call on the Titans, neither her nor Starfire were fit to fight), and she'd come back to hoist Red X off of the compromising position she'd found him in with Starfire. There'd been a sharp, yet dull pain, like a jagged knife grazing the inside of her womb, and then she'd passed out.

Dread, thick and heavy and so very, very there, lurched in her as she shot upward, one hand at her swollen stomach. Oh Azar, please oh please have let the baby make it, please tell her she hadn't-

"The baby's okay."

Her hand dropped from her stomach; Happy sang in her mind for the first time in months. She turned to see Beast Boy, standing at the door, one hand awkwardly rubbing at his other behind his back. He smiled shyly at her, one pointed tooth jutting out at the corner of his lip. Her mouth fell open despite her inability to speak. Something, probably a cheap flower vase, exploded behind her on the windowsill. Beast Boy laughed, not his usual laugh, something lower. "Yeah, Doctor said you shouldn't do that anymore, at least until you have the baby."

"B-Beast Boy I- I-"

"Raven," He raised one hand, approaching her slowly, considerately... He was still smiling, and Affection tittered at the sight. "Why didn't you tell me?" Ah, of course he wanted to know. Why wouldn't he? She tried to grimace, but she wasn't very convincing, so she turned her head to her lap and folded her hands silently in front of her. Beast Boy drew closer. "Why'd you have to do all of this? Why'd you hide it from me?"

"Because you weren't ready to be a father."

He gripped her wrist, she looked at him. His lips were a straight thin line, but there wasn't anger in his eyes, not in the way his brows furrowed or the drop of his eyes. No, he looked sad. She'd made him sad. "Rae, we both know that's a lie."

She blinked, turned her head to her lap again and prayed that the tears firing against her eyes wouldn't fall. "Beast Boy… I grew up knowing I was nothing to my father, nothing but a portal for him to destroy my world- my friends. I tried…" she choked, and she loathed how weak she felt "so hard… to make him care about me, to be his daughter. But I never got there. I'd never known support and trust and everything else Robin and Starfire are always going on about. I'd never felt…" Raven grit her teeth as the first tear slithered down her cheek "...loved." She raised her other hand to her stomach, rubbing the swell back and forth. She breathed in, then the breath shuddered out. "I didn't want that for my child."

There was a warm hand on hers, and the thumb trailed her stomach, tracing her path. "Our child, Raven. You're not doing this alone." He sounded confused, but it wasn't a question; she just knew he wanted to ask a million of them.

"Beast Boy, I-" She whimpered. Azar, she hated herself right now, hissed internally for Reason to rein Sorrow and Affection in, but she didn't. She didn't have that power anymore. Beast Boy had changed Nevermore, maybe permanently, maybe for the better, but at the moment it felt for the worse. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You might be asking. I'm not."

She opened her eyes again and looked at Beast Boy, and he stood there the same as he had before, though he'd moved to hold her and their maturing child between his arms. He looked back at her, and she didn't need her empathic ability to tell his version of Affection was well in control, that the Reason of his mind, though monumentally weaker than her own, had taken a backseat to sentimentality. It made her heart swing; Happy was dancing on her strings and Affection gifted her the song. But Reason had returned, nagging at them with a stern finger- He feels this way now, but what of Terra? He can father our child and love another woman.

Sorrow tripped Happy off her feet, and Affection's music grew to a hush. "Beast Boy, I don't want you to think that because I'm giving you a child that it means you have to…" she trailed off, but Beast Boy pressed on.

"Doesn't mean I have to what, Rae?"

She breathed in, and breathed out "... You don't have to stay with me if there's somebody else."

He recoiled, and immediately she missed the heat. Doubt crept in, like she had been, constantly, for months- Why'd you have to remind him? We could have stayed like that, now he's changed his mind-

"Okay, you're gonna have to catch me up here, 'cause I'm suuuper confused."

Raven nearly smiled. He was such an idiot, and Azar she loved him. "You talk in your sleep sometimes, ya know."

"Huh?"

Raven shifted, and she could feel him watching her. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands. "You said her name, Beast Boy. You were calling for her, and I just couldn't…" play her role. "I didn't want to place that responsibility on you, make you feel trapped. You'd just end up hating me and" she rubbed her stomach "resenting them. That's why I hid. I had to-"

"Wait wait wait- hold on a second here!" She looked at him and, true to his nature, he looked lost. The kind of lost he was trying to make the connection between video game sequels. His eyes bulged as his hands spoke for him, though it was a different language, and not even he understood it. "Who are we talking about? What does this have to do with our kid?" He ran his hands down his face. "I'm so confused!" He tugged at his hair, making more of a mess of it than it already had been. "It feels like alien monkeys are in my brain and they're trying to make it explode!"

She raised an eyebrow. "I sincerely doubt foreign chimps have anything to do with your brain malfunctioning." She was almost proud of the usual dry monotone she'd managed, but it faded. "Terra, Beast Boy. You were calling out for Terra." She saw him pause with his back turned, going stiff at the mention. Sorrow had taken a pickaxe to her heart now, she could feel her chiseling away. "And I know she's back. I wouldn't want to get in the way of that." You weren't meant for me, Beast Boy. I accepted that a long time ago. It's time I set you free, you weren't supposed to be in my cage to begin with.

He turned to her, but she looked away so she couldn't see his face. She wasn't sure she wanted to. He got closer again, and she forced herself to look out the window, where she could only see his outline in the mugginess of morning dew, squeezing her eyes shut because even the shadow of him was too much right then. She couldn't, wouldn't look for reassurance. She was too scared she'd find nothing, or worse, trick herself into seeing something that wasn't there. Her hands turned to fists in her blankets. "Raven…"

"Don't."

He grew quiet, and that must have meant that he'd processed what she'd said, understood, accepted it. Her heart sank.

He moved, brushed against her arm, trespassed into her personal bubble. "Ya know, you talk in your sleep, too." She hadn't meant to turn her head, and she hadn't even thought about opening her eyes, but his fingers were under her chin, and emerald green as big as his heart was peering into her with such abandon that it must have brushed off. She gasped, she didn't even mean to. His eyes shifted from playful to sultry, and part of her stomach (probably not the baby, though relating to the baby as it'd been made) flipped. "You said some things about Aqualad like a year ago, and I didn't freak out."

He leaned in and kissed her, and all at once Nevermore rejoiced. The pain that'd lingered in her stomach, the faint nausea she'd felt, it dissipated in a snap of a finger. His lips pressed gently to hers, no demand or desperation, but he once again was not asking. She shut her eyes, leaned in, fingers reaching up and dancing across his chest before they twisted around the fabric of his suit and tugged, pulling him closer. He followed, cupping her jaw in his hands, cradling her head to him like a treasure, thumbs brushing over her cheeks. It felt like the first time, all anticipation, joy, uncertainty, but she pulled away and he followed and she knew there was nothing left to be uncertain about. They didn't part until he had to come back for air, and even then he moved so shortly that her lips still tasted the air he breathed, and their noses brushed as two sets of heavy-lidded eyes stared back at each other. His lips brushed hers again, light as a feather, there and yet not, and she huffed. "I was never in love with Aqualad."

"And I've never loved anyone the way I love you," he grinned. "So we're even." She huffed again, but it was more of a laugh. His eyes got bright. "See? I will spend the rest of my life trying to get you to make that sound, wet dreams about exes or not." She smacked him, and he yelped, but snickered and rubbed his sore head nevertheless.

The door slammed open again, and both jumped to see Starfire, alight with her feet off the ground, followed closely by the rest of the team. Her green eyes grew three sizes. "Raven! You are awake!" She dove into her arms, and Raven grunted at the impact. Starfire leaped up and down and squeezed her, giggling with a smile as wide as her eyes. "Oh, thank goodness! I was so worried! You and the snarglpref are both unharmed!"

"We won't be if you keep this up."

Starfire released her, pulling away with orange-tinted cheeks. "Hee hee! Apologies!"

Raven glanced up and down, eyebrow raising. She mumbled to Starfire so that the rest of the room couldn't hear (aside from Beast Boy, but she'd explain everything to him later). "You got your powers back?"

Starfire blinked, as if only now realizing that she'd regained flight before she slowly eased herself to the ground, eyes becoming bashful. "I was relieved that you and your child were all right." She wanted to ask more, but Starfire shook her head. Not here.

Starfire stepped to the side to stand next to Beast Boy, and Robin stepped into the room, the other three following. She and Terra made eye-contact, and Terra gave her a smile and waved. Raven blinked, but smiled back after a moment. She turned to Robin, who looked just as concerned as she would have imagined he'd have been had she and Starfire actually woken him up the night they left. He understood her like few others did, and she'd felt his comfort's absence. "Raven, why did you hide that you were pregnant from us?"

"Yeah!" Cyborg piped up. "I woulda made a killer nursery!"

Starfire's eyes lit up, and her flight had returned to her once more as she squeezed her hands at her chest, as if barely containing her excitement. "Oh! Raven, I had almost forgotten the tradition of the showering of the infant! This will be marvelous!" Robin acknowledged her with his signature half-smirk.

Raven winced, a bead of sweat seeping down her head. "Uhh, maybe we could wait until I'm a little further along to do that?" She pressed a hand to her stomach. "After tonight, I think I need to watch how much excitement I'm involved in."

"Oh don't worry," Robin crossed his arms, still grinning, just at her now. "I'm confining you to three week's bedrest. We can't risk a repeat of what happened tonight."

"Doctor says you're fine, though," Cyborg approached the bed then, holding his arm out for her to see the test results on his arm. She leaned over, into his shoulder, and all at once felt like a little sister to a very concerned, capable big brother. He smiled at her, the way only Cyborg smiled, the way he always had, the way she'd missed. "What set you off was using your powers too near to full capacity. It's not just your mind that takes a toll, your body does, too."

"So…" She raised an eyebrow and glanced at the room full of titans, each smiling at her in some variation. "I'm benched for six months, aren't I?" They all nodded, and she groaned.

Beast Boy and Cyborg had taken Raven home the next morning, after Doctor Thompkins signed the papers, of course. Beast Boy had offered her an arm, and Raven had taken it with a small smile on her lips, though she'd have denied it had any of them asked. Robin asked Starfire where they'd been hiding, offered to follow her back to the motel to collect their things (because they weren't staying another night outside of the tower, he wasn't having it, it was an order). Starfire had smiled at him, waved him off, said, as politely as she could: "I would prefer if Friend Terra assisted me instead."

That'd hurt, Terra could tell, but he'd let her go.

He and Batgirl returned to the tower on his R-Cycle, leaving Starfire and Terra to walk their way back to the motel. Both could fly faster than the T-car could drive, it was fine, but he'd argued that he could send Batgirl back on his bike alone- it didn't work, she refused his help; it upset Starfire more that he'd been willing to let this other woman ride his bike when he never let any of them touch it. He'd waved to them, and Starfire and Terra waved back as they sped off (he'd seen Starfire's face as Batgirl's arms wrapped around his waist, as her head rested on his shoulder. He tried to erase the way her eyes dimmed in his mind, but the more he buried it, the deeper the hole in the pit of him dug).

Starfire and Terra passed the motel's front door, Starfire offering a quick wave to the grumpy waddling man who owned the place, who brushed her off with a disgruntled hand and a sigh. He rolled around at his front desk, rolling chair looking pressed to keep him upright as he leaned back. Terra followed Starfire to the sliding door on the other side of the room, glancing back at the old man with a cocked eyebrow. They set their sights on the rows and rows of motel rooms, and Terra gestured to the lot of them. "So, which one's yours?"

Starfire shrugged at one on the third floor, to which Terra grumbled ("of course it's that one").

They climbed the stairs, spirals, thin and so claustrophobic they had to walk in line and not together. Odd men peered at them from the windows of their dens, between blinds and smoky rooms. Terra pretended not to see them, but she wondered how Raven and Starfire had managed, if they'd ever had any problems here. They could handle themselves, she knew that, but she had a feeling Robin would wanna do a background check on the shady characters on the other side of those blinds; he'd probably find something for the JCPD.

"So this is the place you've been staying?"

"Yes, it is not to your liking?"

Terra took one look at the dirty window and the air conditioning unit attached that was falling apart, then shrugged. "Better than the caves I used t' crash in."

The room was tidy, for the most part, aside from shopping bags that were haphazardly thrown at the end of either bed. Terra could see bras peeking out of the corner of it- dark, purple, lacey. She hadn't pegged Raven as the lace type, but hey, she hadn't known Raven when she was actively having sex! She felt a shiver run down her grossed-out spine, and decided to table the thought for awhile, maybe forever. There were some stray feathers on the floor, as if somebody had torn a pillow in half and cleaned it up, but had missed a few stragglers. A broken lamp sat between the beds in a trashcan; Terra looked to Starfire, then back at it. "Uhh, what happened?"

Starfire paused in her raid of the nightstand drawer, stuffing anything that had been theirs into one of the tote bags she'd bought on a whim. She glanced at the mess of glass and, to Terra's surprise, didn't have much of a response. "Oh, towards the beginning of her pregnancy, Friend Raven had the mood swing, and loss of control over her powers caused her to-"

"- to break your lamp."

"Yes."

Terra stared at it.

"Yeah, I'm gonna give BB a heads up when we get back."

The two continued to pick up belongings- purses, clothing (Starfire took care of the dirty laundry), soaps, and especially the jar labeled "Savings" filled with dollar bills and coins. Terra asked what they were saving up for, and Starfire giggled and said she'd planned on getting a puppy. Terra asked if that's what Raven was saving for, to which Starfire answered: "I do not know." They'd assume the baby.

Starfire had taken to making the beds ("You spent WHAT on this room? We better clean up here, we are NOT paying extra!") and Terra had taken to tossing the food from the mini fridge into a plastic bag. She pulled out some mustard, some rice in a tupperware container, a leftover smoothie… she tossed it all into the plastic bag and wrapped it up. "All right, Star, I think we're good to go."

Starfire nodded.

They grabbed the bags, full to the zipper with everything, everything that had made this space their own for three long months, and carried it to the door. Starfire pulled the key out of her wallet- not something she'd carried before, key nor pocketbook- and took one final look at the room. It looked clean, empty, the way it had been when she and Raven first opened the door at six in the morning one terrible, godforsaken night. She and Raven had warmed it up, thrown blankets over the cheap and thin comforters, filled the drawers with their clothes and underwear and socks, even took the shower curtain down and replaced it with one they'd both settled on. Anything had been better than the semi-transparency of the other curtain. She could still see the smudges from where she'd leave little notes on the fogged up bathroom mirror for Raven before she'd head off to work, and she wondered if she could continue a similar tradition in the tower's bathroom; there'd just be more people to see it, now.

"Uh...Star?" Terra awkwardly shifted from foot to foot, hands not quite sure what to do or where to go. She winced, and set a slow hand on Starfire's shoulder.

Starfire blinked, and Terra drew her hand back, face heavy with concern despite her clumsy comfort. "Sorry, didn't mean to… Starfire, why are you crying?"

Was she? Starfire raised one hand to her cheek. Sure enough, her fingers came away slick, and she frowned. "Apologies," she wiped her eyes with her arm "I am… the correct term is feeling nostalgic, yes?"

Terra smiled at her, set a warm hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, Star, that's right. Do you need a few more minutes?"

Starfire glanced back to the empty room, and she could see everything despite the lights having already been turned off because the sun was rising, and the light was creeping into the shadows of the place Starfire had learned to call home. Or rather, a home away from home. Raven was at their old home, their new home, and they would face whatever came after this together; this motel room, with all its cheap idiosyncrasies and poor plumbing, was a testament to that. She need not fear the next day, because they'd seen plenty together and tackled each like the one before.

Starfire shook her head and smiled, really smiled. "No, Terra, I am quite ready."

They shut the door and locked it, and set forth to return the key.