#keeps beaming down nightmares so i say we get rid of it

[oh-stars]

Wind in Your Hair

Drive

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 696 words | CW: anxiety | Rating: G

--

She wants to scream. Genuinely. “I just don’t get what she’s trying to accomplish,” Robin says. “One minute she’s asking me to study and help her with an essay that I know she doesn't need help with and the next she’s ignoring me in the hallway!”

Her head is spinning with how tightly she’s turning around to pace the small space in front of her bed. “And, and,” she stresses as she looks over to Steve, who is sitting patiently on her bed, “let’s not forget that the rep from Ohio State is coming. I don’t even want to go to Ohio State or do marching band in college and yet here I am, panicking that he won’t like me and I won’t get the scholarship he may be offering. Because what if I’m lying to myself about not wanting to play in college when I actually want to because I don’t think it’ll work out. Or maybe I’m so self conscious about being the dorky trumpet player in college and then none of the pretty girls will want to–” 

Two hands grab her shoulders and spin her around until she’s nose to nose with Steve. “You have to breathe,” he says lowly, almost whispering. His words are all focused and intentional, like he’s trying to speak to a very specific part of her brain. 

She copies his breathing without him saying so, both of them breathing in deeply and letting it out in measured breaths. “Breathing isn’t going to fix my problems,” she says after a few minutes, even though the ratting thoughts in her head have slowed down a little with each breath and the steady hands on her shoulders keeping her in place. 

Steve’s lips quirk up into a sad smile. “You know what will?” 

Robin raises an eyebrow. 

He doesn’t say anything, just spins her back around and marches her out the bedroom. She’s guided down the stairs and out the house until they make it to the passenger side of his car, all while his hands nudge her this way and that like he’s herding her along. “You could have used your words you know,” she huffs as she climbs in. 

Steve slides across his hood to reach his door, yanking it open to slip into the driver’s seat. “You have too many words in your head right now, Birdie,” he says. He only calls her that during the soft moments, when things are too big and the nightmares too real. She loves him for it, the way he can make it all seem manageable with a smile and a nickname. 

Robin doesn’t argue as Steve cranks the engine. She watches as he pulls open the center console and grabs a tape, popping it out of the case and into the player. Their mixtape, the one with the doodles and stickers she’d plastered all over the plastic case, starts up as he pulls off the curb. 

“Steve–” 

“Nope.�� Steve stops the car in the middle of the street, foot held down on the brake as he shifts to look at her. “No talking. We are going to sing as loud as we physically can until the words fall out of your head. Okay? No Vickie. No recruits. No school. None of it. Got it?” 

Robin grins. “Got it.” 

Steve beams as he turns back to the road and eases off the brake. He waits until he’s out of the neighborhood to blare the music, rolling down his window as they belt out to Queen. 

She’s helpless but to copy him, arm cranking the window down as the wind whips through the Beemer. Robin snatches up a hairbrush that has to be Eddie’s from the floorboard to use as a microphone, holding it between them to share when Steve’s able. 

As the wind blows through her hair, the trees passing by in a blur, and the songs fading into one another go on and on, Robin feels more grounded and connected to herself. And filled with the giggles, but that’s neither here nor there. It’s more of a side effect of being with Steve, one she never wants to get rid of. 

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

[seijorhi]

Reminiscent

i’m (semi) back, y’all, and i come bearing a fic!! fhdjhfjdk it’s for oikawa i won’t apologise

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW non-con, drunk/drugged reader, forced infidelity, emotional manipulation, angst, past trauma, coercion, mild(ish?) smut, nsfw

“F-fuck, cutie! Just like – hah– just like that!”

You weren’t the clubbing type.

Not usually, at least – but exams were over and one of your friends was fresh off a bad breakup, one night letting loose wouldn’t hurt.

Walking is… difficult, your steps are sloppy – there’s an arm wrapped around your waist, your own slung over a stranger’s shoulders. Why are you outside? Where are your friends – they… they promised they wouldn’t leave you. 

“She good, dude?”

A soft, pretty laugh rumbles at your side, “Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.”

And you remember the bar, the overpriced cocktails and the saccharine sweetness of strawberry liquor on your tongue. The dizzying lights and the bass that thumped so loudly you felt it reverberate in your chest. You knew the rules; they’d been drilled into you since you were sixteen years old.

Stick together, don’t accept drinks from strangers, and watch the one in your hand like a hawk - it doesn’t leave your sight.

A tongue between the valley of your breasts, long fingers curling up inside of you. 

“You like that, huh pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?”

They wouldn’t have just abandoned you, right? Maybe you told them to go. Maybe they thought you wanted it; to go home with the handsome stranger.

You never had the guts to ask them, never spoke about that night again. Not to anyone.

Pain. Something thrusting inside of you, splitting you open while he moans and pants atop you. It hurts so much and you want it to stop. 

Please stop. Please. Please. Please.

You’re begging, at least you think you are, but the words come out jumbled and wrong, and he just laughs, hiking up your thigh so he can fuck you deeper.

Why won’t he stop?

When you wake up, bruised and sore and all alone in your bed, it feels like a bad dream. You know it’s not – not with cum still seeping from between your thighs, the scent of the stranger’s cologne clinging to your sheets.

And you scrub your skin raw in the shower, but it isn’t enough to rid you of his touch.

—

It’s nothing like what they show on tv.

There’s no sympathetic detective to pat you on your shoulder while you break down, swearing that they’ll find the man who did this and you’ll get your justice.

You don’t go to the cops because you’ll know what they’ll say. You were drunk, drugged, and even if you could remember what he looked like (his eyes were brown, you think, and there’s a flash of a smirk in your head but the moment you try to focus on it it slips away like smoke) any evidence of rape washed down the drain the moment you stepped into the steaming shower.

At least… that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier than admitting you’re terrified of judgemental eyes. 

Or worse; pitying ones.

So you pretend that nothing happened. You show up to your classes and throw yourself into studying, make the time to get coffee with your friends, you even pick up a part time job – it’s good to keep busy. 

The nightmares are just that; nightmares.

And things are fine, until they’re not.

—

“Baby, you’re here!!”

There’s barely time to drop your bags before she’s pulling you into a warm hug. “Hi mom,” you reply, squeezing her back.

When she draws back to take you in, one hand cupping your cheek, she frowns, “You look tired sweetheart. Have you been sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, just tired from exams and stuff.”

She looks unconvinced, but mercifully doesn’t push the issue. Of course, you don’t tell her that you missed your last two exams because you’d walked past some guy wearing that same cologne and just choked – that instead of finishing off your semester strong, you’d spent the day alternating between throwing up and crying in bed.

She doesn’t need to know that, because of that, you’ll probably fail both classes and have to retake them again next semester on top of an already full course load. It’s fine; you’ll figure it out.

For now, you work on matching her enthusiasm at having you home, grabbing your bags to bring them inside and into your old room.

“Oh, wait–”

Abruptly, you pause, gazing in confusion from the doorway of your bedroom. There’s a duffle bag lying open and empty atop your bed, a tangled jump rope, some weights, an empty bottle, a sweat towel – even what looks like a spare workout tee scattered haphazardly across the sheets.

“… I didn’t take you for a gym junkie, mom.”

She stops behind you, sighing. “It’s not mine it’s– Tooru said he was going to tidy it up, sorry sweetheart.” She sweeps past you to start tidying it up, but not before you catch sight of her wide eyed, deer in headlights expression.

And you can’t help the lone eyebrow that rises, falling back against the doorframe, arms folding across your chest. “Tooru, huh?” you grin, “And who might Tooru be?”

The flustered, almost guilty look she sends you makes you want to laugh – this is easy, comfortable, this you can do – but you restrain yourself. Just. “Tooru is… he’s– well, he’s the man I’m… seeing.”

She admits it like she’s confessing to a crime, eyes all wide and nervous; anticipating your reaction. And you suppose it’s not unwarranted. As far as you’re aware, she’s been alone ever since the day your dad walked out on you both – raising you was always the priority, or maybe the excuse. But you’re not fourteen anymore, you don’t need another father figure or every spare bit of her time and attention, and she doesn’t need your approval for this.

So you smile at her, “Is he nice?”

She lights up, her features – almost a mirror image of your own – softening as she beams, “He’s amazing, honey. I honestly don’t know how this whole thing really happened, or why he’s even interested in someone like me but… I lucked out with him.”

And so it goes, you prying little bits of information about the mysterious Tooru as the afternoon passes.

She tells you that they met a few months back, at the bakery she likes in town – and how she kept running into him; at the grocery store, and then at the park, and then on her way back from yoga that one night.

She tells you that he’s a terrible flirt, all smooth and charming with warm, pretty brown eyes, but he’s a good man beneath it all and she’s never met anyone like him. 

It strikes you, as you watch your mom animatedly talk about him, that you’ve never seen her look like this before. 

Happy. 

She can’t stop smiling, and when you look at her, really look, she’s almost a different person – younger somehow, a bit more care-free. It suits her, and you wonder with a slight pang in your heart how you never noticed how lonely she was before.

And she’s adamant that they’re taking things slowly, that he still has an apartment of his own in town – which to be honest, you really aren’t gonna judge her on either way – but it is kind of funny simply because whether your mom realises it or not, it’s clearly a lie.

The subtle reclaiming of your bedroom aside, there’s traces of Tooru scattered all around the house; the extra toothbrush and aftershave you’d spotted in the bathroom, the men’s  shoes and the jacket by the door, red wine in the cupboard when your mom’s only ever indulged in white.

You haven’t been into her bedroom, but at this point you’d hazard a guess that there’s at least one drawer full of Tooru’s clothes, probably half her closet cleared out for him as well.

“He’s coming for dinner, but I just wanted today to be just us,” she says, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand. And you’re grateful for it, because you’re happy for her – you are – but you’re not so sure how you would’ve handled meeting the stranger holding your mother’s heart first thing. At least, not after the last few days.

Not when you still feel all… brittle. 

—

Tooru arrives a little after seven, and to say that he’s not entirely what you were expecting is kind of an understatement. 

She’d gushed about how tall and handsome he is – though personally, you think pretty’s the more accurate word, what with his soft, delicate features, perfect cupid’s bow lips and all. What she’d neglected to tell you was that the man in question, stepping through the front door with a faint smile on his face, has to be at least ten years younger than her, mid-thirties at most.

Suddenly, your mom’s initial reluctance to bring him up starts to make sense.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he murmurs, stopping by your mom to drop a fleeting kiss to her cheek before warm brown eyes turn to you. 

Your heart stutters.

“Sweetheart,” your mom begins, slipping an arm around his waist and relaxing into his side, “this is Tooru– Oikawa,” she corrects herself.

He smiles at you, friendly and charming, “It’s great to finally meet you, your mom’s told me so much – all good things, of course!”

You force yourself to smile in return, “Yeah, you too.” 

There’s nothing overtly wrong with Oikawa, age difference aside – your mom’s clearly head over heels in love with the guy and on a surface level he seems nice enough, but you find yourself glad for the fact that he doesn’t make a move to step closer, try to shake your hand or god forbid hug you or something like that.

He’s nothing but a gentleman as your mom steps back into the kitchen to finish off dinner, setting the table without being prompted, pouring a glass of wine for your mom and one for himself before he offers a glass to you. 

“Oh, no I’m alright, thanks.”

You don’t drink so much anymore. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal but your mom pouts at you from the kitchen. “C’mon, sweetie. We’re celebrating tonight! One drink won’t hurt.”

“We’re celebrating?” you ask.

She throws you a wink, gaze softening as she turns to glance at Oikawa, already diligently pouring you a glass, “Of course we are. It’s not every day my girl comes home, and it’s nice having you both here with me.”

Oikawa’s fingers brush against yours for a fleeting second as he passes you the glass, and you have to fight to keep yourself from ripping your hand away. It’s nothing, you just– you’re not good with strangers touching you, and as nice as he is and as much as your mom might be infatuated with him, he is still a stranger.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, a playful twinkle in his eye as he clinks his wine glass against yours. “So you’re at uni, right? What are you studying?”

Uni’s the last thing you want to be thinking about right now, but whether or not Oikawa genuinely cares, he’s obviously trying to make an effort to get to know you. For your mother’s sake, grinning innocuously in the kitchen as she adds the last little touches to dinner, you suck it up, plaster a smile across your face and ignore the twinge of discomfort in your gut.

You can handle one night of small talk.

—

You wake the following morning to the sound of voices carrying down the hall.  

Not your mother’s – both are too deep, and your mom left a few hours ago for work. Figuring that one of them at least is likely Oikawa, you pull on a thin, satin robe over your pajamas, tying the sash in a loose knot before you slip from the room.

Those suspicions are proven correct; you round the corner to find Oikawa sitting up at the kitchen counter, a warm cup of coffee in his hand. There’s another man, a touch shorter, but imposing with dark, spiky hair and olive green eyes standing on the other side, hands braced on the marble top, glaring at Oikawa.

They both look up at the sound of your hesitant approach, the stranger abruptly straightening up, while Oikawa merely grins.

“Ah, you’re up,” he observes cheerfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

Your eyes flicker between him and the stranger – clearly comfortable enough in your home and with Oikawa, despite the faint, lingering irritation still visible on his face – and as your cheeks warm, you find yourself wishing you’d put actual clothes on before coming out to investigate.

“I- I heard voices…” you trail off, awkwardly folding your arms over your chest. “Is mom–”

“At work,” he supplies. “Do you want some breakfast? Coffee, maybe?”

You risk another glance at the other man, watching you now with an unreadable expression, dark eyebrows furrowed. You swallow uncomfortably, shifting slightly as you shake your head. “No, I-I’m okay.”

And in an instant, a flash, something like recognition passes through those olive eyes. 

 Oikawa chuckles smoothly, finally tearing his eyes away from you to address his friend, “Iwa, stop being so rude. You’re scaring the poor thing.”

The stranger, Iwa, just scoffs. “You’re a real piece of shit, y’know?”

If he’s bothered by the scathing insult, Oikawa doesn’t show it, merely shrugging before turning his attention back to you with a smirk. “Ignore him, he’s just pissy this morning.”

You’d have to be a complete idiot not to sense the uncomfortable tension between the two of them – and now you. This is your home, but it feels like you’re intruding, like you’ve stumbled into a conversation you have no business hearing, but even if you wanted to leave your feet are rooted to the ground. 

“Besides,” Oikawa continues, “he was just leaving anyway, weren’t you, Iwa?” It’s almost a purr, the way he speaks, but even the silken words can’t entirely mask the razor sharpness that lies beneath. 

Goosebumps prickle along your arms.

Staring at you, Iwa opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but seemingly thinks better of it, snapping it shut with an audible click. He huffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

He spares you another glance on his way out, standing frozen by the hall. For a split second he slows, his scowl softening just a fraction–

“Iwa.”

It sounds like a warning, but he only rolls his eyes and huffs again. You think he’s going to walk out without another word to either of you, but he pauses once more, lingering by the entryway.

“You look a lot like your mother, anyone ever tell you that?”

He’s out the door before you can even think to reply, letting it slam shut in his wake. And you flinch at the harsh sound, something uneasy settling into the pit of your stomach–

“Hey,” Oikawa’s there by your side, his fingers entwining with yours. You hadn’t even heard him move. “Come sit, don’t worry about Iwa. He’ll get over it.”

His voice is soothing, you don’t pay attention to the words themselves, the implications there. You forget for a moment that you’re still in your pj’s, that you really don’t know him that well either, and mindlessly follow when he leads you to the couch and sits you down, taking the seat next to you.

And while your head’s still spinning, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing in the pit of your gut, Oikawa seems entirely unbothered by the turn of events, sighing contentedly as he stretches his long legs out, one arm sliding along the back of the couch behind you.

“Do your… friends usually just drop by like that?”

You don’t know where the words come from, or why that’s the first question on your mind, but when you glance over at him, Oikawa’s just watching you, an odd little half smirk playing on his lips. “Sometimes.”

His answer does little to soothe your unease. It’s really not a big deal, you know it’s not. Officially or not, this is his home too – you’re the one out of place. And if he wants to have people over when your mom’s not around, that’s fine, he can do whatever the hell he wants, but… 

You came home for peace. To hide away for a few days and pretend that everything’s just fine and you’re not one breakdown away from shattering entirely. You wanted your mom and the comfort of your old bedroom and safety and it’s fine – great, even – that she’s found somebody who makes her happy, but this– him and the weirdness with his friend and everything is just too much, and–

You don’t realise that your leg’s bouncing until Oikawa’s hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, an icy chill trickling down your spine as his thumb slowly strokes across the soft, plush skin. “Relax, cutie,” he coos, chuckling softly when you visibly flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

“P-please don’t call me that,” you choke out, fighting against the wave of nausea rising up your throat. And it’s just like last time, his cologne, notes of vanilla and cedar and spice, swirling thick and heady around you. That phantom touch, the warmth of hands gripping too tight, unwanted kisses hot and eager against your skin. 

“No?” he asks, cruel amusement dripping from his tone. “Why not? I think it suits you, cutie.”

You want him to stop, to push him away, slap him – do anything really, but you’re frozen in place, shaking as the memories you’ve fought so hard to shove down come bubbling back to the surface. You can’t think straight, not with his hand sliding between your thighs, the warmth of his body pressing too closely against yours.

“Iwa was right, you know,” Oikawa murmurs, smoldering brown eyes drinking you in as you childishly shake your head, willing him away. His other hand catches your cheek, drawing your face back to him as tears well in your eyes, stubbornly clinging to your lashes. “She does look so much like you, the same eyes even.” 

He whispers it like a secret, nuzzling his nose against yours like a lover would as he sighs sweetly, “It’s the only reason I could stand it.”

And then he’s kissing you, the tenderness of his lips belied by iron fingers digging into your jaw when you whimper and try to wrench yourself free. 

It’s not like the nightmares that startle you awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air; hazy, broken recollections that fade the moment you try to reach for them. No, every touch, every moment of his assault passes in stark clarity.

The feel of Oikawa’s mouth as it trails greedily down your neck, his hand sliding under the cotton of your sleep shorts, even his pleased little hum when he realises you’re not wearing panties. “Such a good girl for me. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

This time there’s no drugs in your system keeping you pliant and helpless, but that doesn’t make a difference. Not when his words echo in your head, playing again and again until every awful, sickening piece falls into place.

Long, nimble fingers stroke at your folds, and you can’t help the shivery gasp that leaves you when the tip of his middle finger sweeps over your clit. 

“Please– please don’t do this,” you sniffle.

Oikawa presses another fleeting kiss to your shoulder, “Shh, none of that. Let me help you, baby.”

“N-no, I don’t, I don’t– Stop!”

Knocking away the hands that try to push him back, he hooks his fingers over the hem of your shorts and slides them down your legs, your pitifully weak struggles only making things easier for him. It’s only when Oikawa reaches for his own zipper that panic truly strikes home.

You can’t just lie here and let this happen again. You won’t.

And like a switch flipped, you start to trash like a wild thing beneath him, the scream you’ve kept buried inside of you for months ripping itself free from your throat–

Only for the fingers that had been toying with your pussy to be shoved down your throat, cutting you off with a choked gurgle. As you gag, fruitlessly try to tug yourself free, Oikawa leans in nice and close – except this time there’s no gentleness to his expression, nothing but viciousness as he grins and bares his teeth. 

“You wanna yell, pretty girl? Want the neighbours to come running, let them see me fuck you?” He grinds his hips against you, his breath shivery as he pants at the friction of his half hard cock against your side. Nausea twists at your gut, acrid and bitter – you want to be sick, to cry and beg with him to stop but with his fingers still stuffed in your mouth, his thumb digging into the soft underside of your jaw all you can manage is an unintelligible whine. He hums, kissing away the single hot tear that spills down your cheek, “You think if you cry loudly enough, mommy’ll come home and save you?”

And it’s like time stands still as he laughs, cruel eyes glinting when he presses down on your tongue, warm saliva pooling around his digits. “Such a little whore, trying to seduce her poor, innocent boyfriend the very moment her back’s turned. Tell me, cutie,” he coos, “who do you think she’d believe?”

Your breath hitches, another sob catching in your throat – even if you wanted to answer, you can’t and he knows it. “She’s in love with me, you know. It’s almost a little pathetic how easy it was to manipulate her into bed – so lonely… desperate for love, for somebody – anybody – to pay attention to her, take care of her,” he sneers, distaste curling at his lips. “Wouldn’t it just break her fragile little heart to know she’s fallen for the man who raped her baby girl?”

Another garbled cry slips past his fingers and you can only watch in frozen horror as his other hand drifts back to his zipper. “You want to protect her, don’t you?”

His grip relents just enough for you to jerk a shaky nod.

“Pretty girl, so good for me.” Another kiss pressed to your cheek as the quiet hiss of his zipper fills the air around you. “It’ll be our little secret, hmm? She doesn’t need to know just yet, let her be happy a little while longer…”

Sliding down his briefs just far enough for his cock to spring free, he strokes it for a moment with slow, leisurely movements, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches your eyes widen. 

And when he pulls you forward, guides your mouth towards it, pre-cum beading at the tip, withdrawing his fingers so you can quickly gasp for air, you just… let him.

The fight’s gone, as quickly as it had come. 

You let his fingers curl through your hair, use it as an anchor when your lips part to force his cock between them. And he moans, low and shivery as your tongue slides along the underside of his shaft and you try not to gag around the sudden intrusion. 

You think that there’s no room left inside of you for shame, but as his other hand creeps back between your legs, teasing at your cunt, you burn with it, clinging to the pyre of your own humiliation and disgust.

And still, you kneel on the couch, letting him fuck your mouth, letting those long, pretty fingers curl up inside of you – moaning around his cock when they stroke that perfect little spot.

“I wanted to – shit – take this slow,” he tells you as his hips jerk upwards, shuddering in breathless delight when his cock hits the back of your throat and it convulses around him. “I wanted to make you want me.”

Wet, messy, gags sound with every unwitting thrust – you’ve no choice but to swallow him down, let him fuck your throat like you’re nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. There’s saliva coating your chin, dripping down the length of his dick, pooling around his balls. You can barely breathe, a task made even harder when Oikawa decides to add his thumb into the mix, teasing your clit while he fucks you apart on his fingers.

It feels so fucking good, and you’ve never hated yourself more.

Your throat burns, hot tears stinging in the corners of your eyes, and yet he’s intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity with every calculated flick of his wrist. Something tightens in your belly, a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap, and you can’t help it when your hips chase his fingers, the needy, shameful little whimpers that leave your lips (still wrapped around his thick, twitching cock) as you search for the pleasure to temper the discomfort.

“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you? I could barely sleep last night–” 

You choke back a moan, your pussy clenching around his digits, sucking them deeper as white spots pepper your vision and you shudder out a moan.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he pants, but you don’t care – can’t, not when you’re riding his fingers, tongue lolling out as he gives you a moment’s reprieve to bask in the rippling afterglow of your orgasm before everything comes crashing back down around you. 

Oikawa lets you fall back against the cushions, breathless, trembling and dazed. You’re not stupid enough to believe that’s the end of it, not when his cock’s still hard, throbbing against his toned stomach when he gives it a slow, cursory pump.

“Lie back, cutie,” he whispers, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he pushes himself up off the couch to shed the rest of his clothes.

And as you shuffle obediently downwards, heart hammering in your chest, you find you can’t tear your eyes away from him either.

Tall and handsome, she’d said, but the words truly don’t do him justice. A body corded with lean, powerful muscle, golden, sun-kissed skin, a light smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel down past the well defined V of his hips… 

“See something you like?” he teases, smirking when you squeak and childishly jerk your face away, cheeks burning. “It’s okay to look, you know. I don’t mind the attention.”

It feels too soft, too intimate for what this is. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s not supposed to be attractive, or to make you enjoy your own assault, and you– you’re supposed to fight it, fight him instead of just lying there and taking it… 

But when he climbs back onto the couch, easing your still trembling thighs apart to settle himself between them, his touch is nothing short of reverent, dark eyes wide and adoring as you squirm uneasily beneath him. 

With one hand braced on the cushion beside you, his cock resting just above your aching sex, he leans forward, easing your top up past your tits. “Perfect,” he murmurs.

And it’s enough to make a fresh bout of humiliated tears spring to your eyes. Your hands curl into useless fists at your side as he settles back onto his knees and takes his cock in hand, hissing in pleasure when he glides the flushed, leaking head along your slick folds.

“Fuck, cutie. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he laughs, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches hot, fat tears slip down your cheeks. With an agonisingly slow pace, Oikawa lines himself up with your cunt and presses in – even with how wet you are, one orgasm already wrung from you, the stretch burns and you can’t stop the choked gasp that leaves you.

His eyes flutter shut, head thrown back back as inch by inch his cock sinks into your pussy until finally he bottoms out with a satisfied groan. “Perfect for me, so fucking good,” he pants, and you barely have time to drag in a breath before his hips are drawing back, another desperate, strangled mewl escaping you.

Bruising fingers dig into your waist, Oikawa cursing as your plush little cunt flutters maddeningly around him– before he eagerly slams his cock forward, stuffing you full once more.

And as you sob and whimper between every wet, obscene squelch of his dick fucking into your soaked pussy, that all too familiar, shameful heat begins to pool in your core.

“Gonna cum for me again, cutie?”

[cloudninetonine]

A past that still haunts me

A/N: Hey guys, it's me (ya boi) I'm back with my still current hyper fixation Genshin Impact and a vent fic because I've been really stressed and well, it's hard living in my house :) It's a hurt/comfort fic because they always get to me and I needed to make something for myself

I am willing to do aftermath where the boys confront the abuser or do scenario but with different characters

Synopsis: You’re not a damsel in distress, you never have been and you never will be, but, well, sometimes you need a hero to rely on and that’s okay

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli and Childe

Warnings: Hints to past abuse, confrontation of abuser, violence, mentions of blood, threats, foul language

It had meant to be like any other menial day of an adventurer: sign in with Katheryne, complete your commissions, sign out with Katheryne with your payments - done and dusted.

But that wasn’t how it went, no, far from it - archons, so damn far from it.

“Thank you once again, (Name)” Katheryne’s smile was kind like usual, holding that familiar feeling of gratitude as she handed over your remission within a marked package, hand returning to the desk’s polished surface once you had taken it graciously, sending her a beaming grin back. “The Guild really appreciates your work ethic when it comes to the Ruin machines, it’s hard to come across adventurers who want to handle them anymore”

You sent her a shrug as you placed away the box “Can’t blame them really, they’re a hard bunch to handle- I was terrified of them when I first started too, but I had my vision to help me out, a lot of these folk only use there pure determination to eradicate them, gotta admire that!”

She laughed along with you politely “Have a good evening, (Name), I’ll see you again tomorrow?”

“Of course you will!” You backpedalled away from the guild reception, throwing the woman a polite double fingered salute as you did “Ad astra abyssoque as they say, my fair lady!”

She parrotted back her usual phrase before disappearing into the building, you walking further down the path of the city for your final activity for that day.

Of course, you didn’t reach that far, after all, it wasn’t that menial day you had expected, that you had wanted. Life was cruel sometimes, so incredibly cruel for no justified reason just for the sake of it all and you wished, archons, you wished you could rewind the clock and stop yourself from bumping into the body, to save yourself from all the repressed trauma bursting forth like a flurry of butterflies, well, more like moths, disgusting, ungodly, monster moths that aimed straight for the face.

“Sorry!” You yelped, too preoccupied with gathering your pocketwatch you had dropped in the stumble to see who it had been, after all, you were on a schedule and you didn’t want to be-

“(Name)?”

...late.

All of a sudden, time didn’t seem to exist, or maybe it was moving way too slowly from that horrid spike of adrenaline that shot into your bloodstream as soon as the voice registered.

You hoped to the Archons that it wasn’t, that it couldn’t, but did the gods hear your prayers?

“Oh Archons, it is you! It’s been such a long time!”

Of course, they did, they just didn’t care to listen. Ignoring the cries of your people were in fashion to them these days.

They stood there with a smile so excited it almost seemed to tear their face in half, with eyes sparkling with recognition after so many years away from them, they opened their arms welcoming you into their embrace like it was something just so normal for the two of you like you would come bounding to them like a lost puppy who had finally found their master.

The fear of your abuser dwarfed in comparison the pure feral rage and loathing to think that they even deserved to be breathing in the same space as you.

People were looking, of course, they were looking, you knew what they were doing, being bright and jovial, bringing others attention towards you both so that whatever scene you caused would be your fault like you were the bad guy. It was old tactics, of course, you wouldn’t dare do anything when you were younger, you’d just push through it, but this wasn’t old times, this wasn’t younger you, scared, smaller you afraid them, this was you now, a warrior, unwavering in battle, a person who smiled in the face of danger, who laughed at the pitiful fights that 2- no- 4 abyss mages brought to you!

To hell what other people thought, you’d stomp their head into the cobblestone if they had so much as poked you.

“Come here and give me a-”

You took a step back, mustering the deadliest face you could, but you wavered, it was only natural, no matter how much you could try to hype yourself up, this person was your first true experience of real-life nightmares, the first person to bring you true pain, no matter how many ruin guards, hunters, millachurls, mages- anything you faced, nothing could prepare you to face your first fear:

The fear of your older sibling.

“If you fucking touch me I’ll stab you-” The growl cracked nearing the end, you were always an angry crier but you were not about to fall back to this- this monster. “In front of all these people, I won’t hesitate”

Their face dropped followed by your stomach, though, the food you had for lunch sure did feel its way up your gullet.

“What’s with your language? We haven’t seen each other in four years and this is how you treat me? Your older sibling?” They laughed in disbelief because onlookers would think they were shocked, I mean, how could you speak to family like that? But they didn’t know, they didn’t know the words they had told you, the insults, the threats, those tight grabs, those beatings- they didn’t know, so they obviously didn’t know that the shock came from the fact that you had stood up to them.

You licked your lips to get rid of the dryness, but the problem you faced was that your mouth had dried out along with them, as did your throat.

Don’t let them turn this on you, don’t let them get the upper hand, you were better than them, so much better.

“You’re not my fucking sibling” You spat, feeling the air vibrate around you, a sudden shine from your cloak hinted you to the cause “You haven’t been for a long time, don’t fucking try that shit with me”

There it was, that familiar enraged spark, that look of hatred on their face, the thing that warned you about what you said had been the right thing to set them off, that they were just as easily triggered by the smallest act of rebellion just like when you were kids.

Of course, they hadn’t changed.

Evil never did.

They took a step forward but you didn’t back off, just hardened your resolve as they leaned in menacingly, as though their stupid little intimidation tactic still worked after all these years.

You told yourself it didn’t but you knew deep down that wasn’t completely true.

“Don’t speak to me like that, (Name)” Facade gone, they showed you what they really were, what they were really like after all, “Don’t you ever speak to me like that, you show me fucking respect”

Respect?

RESPECT!?

Oh Archons, you were angry, no, seething from the thought that they ever deserved respect.

That pathetic piece of shit, that gruelling pleb, mere gum on the bottom of your damn shoe-

You’d kill them, right here, right now.

You felt the familiar materialisation begin to form in your hand when another voice called out, a familiar loving one that nearly made your throat swell from relief.

“(Name)?”

Diluc

He could sense the tension. Of course, he could sense the tension, Diluc had faced this tension so many times before, he was practically the one that owned such a vibe anytime Kaeya even breathed near him for a second longer than necessary.

But being the one to witness it, to see you, the usual awkward, goofy sweetheart stare at another with such overbearing malice made him uneasy, caused his stomach to churn in ways he didn’t like, set him off in a way that was only reserved for the most chilling on moments.

Diluc wondered what exactly this stranger had done to warrant such a reaction from you.

“(Name)?” The redhead called, glancing around the many citizens of Mondstadt that watched the exchange with intrigue, guard and worry, eyes focused on the scene of this foreign stranger and fuming you, hand poised by your side with weapon particles dancing on your palm.

When Diluc finally made it over, his form seemed to curl protectively around you, hand landing on the small of your back delicately while keeping face with the person, eyes narrowed dangerously but still holding an air of civilness.

A true gentleman, even when you were close to merking some rando.

“Is there a problem?”

The stranger straightened immediately, backing up a few steps with their hands up in defence, sending Diluc a charming smile that the man could see through crystal clear.

“No problem, no problem at all” They glanced back at you, seemingly friendly despite his partner’s obvious ill intent that radiated off you in waves “Isn’t that right, (Name)?”

Diluc saw you tense up once again, the buzz from your Vision rising in volume with your obvious anger as you tightened your first, ready to just screw your weapon and go for the throat.

“If that is the case” The noble’s hand softly pressed against your back, gently but coaxing, knowing that conflict in the middle of the town centre would just bring the knights to meddle in affairs that they had no business attending “Then we shall be going”

“There’s no need to leave, after all, my sibling and I were just chatting”

He paused, shouldering a questioning glance your way but at the sight of your unruly expression, he pushed down his enquiries and once again began coaxing you away from the scene. Angel’s Share had already been open for a while, meaning the usual folk would already be settled in, but the storage room was sure to be a good place to chat and to calm you down, all he needed to do was get you away.

“We already had plans” The side glance had the stranger- your sibling, biting their tongue, brows furrowing in a known annoyance as the two of you began your way towards the pub, you still vibrating in anger. “Good day to you”

The two of you had made it a few feet when they called out once again “Don’t worry, (Name), I’ll see you again real soon”

Diluc’s arm tightened around you faster than you could react, tugging you away quickly “Diluc-”

“No, (Name)”

“Stay out-”

“Not here” Sharing a look, he softened at the shine in your eyes. “You’ll just attract the knights' attention”

You didn’t care, no, not one bit. If the knights had dared to interfere at that moment, they too would have been caught up in your blinded revenge, thrown aside or slashed down without single care just to finally eradicate the bane of your existence and you didn’t care about what consequences you brought about, you just didn’t and you made sure to tell Diluc that, as soon as you had the privacy of Angel’s Share’s storeroom, pacing up and down while he stood off to the side against the wall, watching silently.

“You had no right to get in my way!” You snapped, voice shaking from the pure emotions you were releasing “I finally had my chance, I was finally going to do it! They deserve to end by my hand, by my decision, after the years of torture they put me through! They deserved it! And you got in my way! How could you get in my way! I-”

Pushing off the wall, he slowly advanced towards you, carefully, hands out like he was approaching a wounded animal.

“I understand you’re upset-”

“I’m not upset!” You cried at him, stopping mid-step before dropping your head and tightly, grabbing your hair in your hands “I’m not upset! I’m angry! I’m so fucking angry! And I deserve to be fucking angry! I-”

The sob ripped through your throat despite you trying to hold it back, tears finally gathering in your eyes and rapidly falling down your cheeks “You should have let me kill them! I should have had the chance to rid the world of their evil! It’s not fair! It’s not- it’s not fair, I-”

You didn’t bother to fight him when his arms finally wrapped around you, just fell against him as you wept. The pent up rage, fear and sadness from years of repression taking its toll as you cried, your partner whispering sweet words as he raked his hand through your hair gently and leaned his head against yours.

“I’m sorry” His hand held your cheek fondly, ruby red staring back into your own eyes with a softness that made you melt “I didn’t know this meant so much to you, but if you’re willing to tell me, I’ll listen. I’ll always listen”

With another choked sob, you leaned into his hold “Please just hold me for now”

And he did just that.

Kaeya

The captain had promised to meet you at his office, a simple task really but with the lingering presence of Jean and the words ‘There’s so much work that needs to be done’ leaving her lips he bolted, hoping to catch you by the Guild and drag you to Angel Share for your date. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help her, it was just he had already promised you this night and Eula could have always taken his place with paperwork, her threat of “vengeance” as she liked to call it could wait for another day.

It was also due to the fact he had no intentions of filing any paperwork for as long as he could avoid it, but that was his secret to be kept.

Being the perspective man he was, he could tell straight away he had walked into something tense, surveying the surrounding people of Mondstadt who looked on in concern, the unbridled rage upon your face, the obviously intimidating lean that the stranger held over you- something was wrong and he knew he had to put a stop to it.

“(Name)?” You glanced for a single moment before your furious glare had returned to the stranger, another flag waving right in his face as he approached, “My dear? Who might this be?”

Before you could snap, lip curling in disgust, the stranger stood back to their full height, switching quickly with a fake charming smile that practically mirrored his own, holding out their hand towards him “(S/N) (Last), (Name)’s older sibling. it’s nice to meet you”

Kaeya’s smile widened and despite the glare from you that was now focused on him, he shook your sibling's hand in-kind ���Kaeya Alberich, (Name)’s partner-”

He made sure to tighten his grip with his last words “And Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius”

Successfully, as he always was, Kaeya held back the smug, mocking grin that itched to climb onto his face when the neck of your sibling bobbed nervously, forehead reflecting the afternoon light as sweat gathered on their brow.

The man hadn’t obviously threatened them, surely, Kaeya was smarter than that, but then again, he could still present himself as a threat, a good one and well, his title was a menacing one when it came to the right moment. ‘Try anything and not only do I have the authority to kick your arse but the power to put you in a place many didn’t dare even step’ shortened into an innocent sentence with only 8 words.

“Cavalry Captain? That’s quite impressive” They laughed off, tugging away their hand awkwardly when Kaeya continued to keep a firm grip, his present eye focused solely on your siblings face. They glanced over to you “Quite an achievement for you, aye (Name)?”

You growled, “I’ll show you an achievement-”

Kaeya’s arm had wrapped around your waist not a second later, tugging you tighter to his side as the two of you turned, the man throwing your sibling a smile over his shoulder.

“As nice as it was to meet you, (S/B), we must be going”

And then without another word Kaeya dragged you away, heading in the direction of your home instead of Angel Share tavern, feeling your pure, unfiltered anger the whole way along with the citizens as they parted ways, rushing off from your rage.

It was only when you had returned to the sanctuary of your abode did you snap, jerking away from your boyfriend with angered strides and beginning your seething lecture towards him, moving up and down through the living room while he ventured off into the kitchen, grabbing 2 glasses and a bottle of wine.

“How dare you Kaeya! How fucking dare you! Do you have any idea what you were doing back there!? What was even happening back there!? So much for being the most observant man in Mondstadt because you seemed pretty dense to me the whole fucking time!” Your hands raked through your hair as you yelled, trying so hard to hold back the tears “I didn’t need your damn help, Kaeya! Nor did I fucking want it! Know to stay out of someone's business when it isn’t wanted!”

Logically you knew what he had done, you were smart like that and you knew Kaeya long enough to know what he was doing but your rage, fear and sadness blocked out everything in that moment, made you blind to reality, made you only think irrationally and Kaeya didn’t blame you for that. He could never blame you for that.

Though, it did hurt him to see you in this state.

“Wine?”

You gawked at him for a moment, staring at him with shock and confusion as he held out a wine glass towards you, another held in his other hand and a sweet smile plastered on his face, before your moment morphed into rage, grabbing the drink from his hand and tossing it towards the wall, the red wine splattering over the wallpaper and glass shards falling to the floor.

“Well, that was a waste-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot, Kaeya!?” You cried, not even bothering to hold back anymore as the tears fell and your voice cracked, hand pointing accusingly in his face “Is this some kind of joke to you!? Huh!? Am I a fool in your eyes!? Some sort of blubbering idiot!? Why must you- why do you-”

The second glass was placed on the dresser by you both, Kaeya’s hand coming to hold your cheek fondly while the other came to grab your hand that dangled in the air, still poised at him “I don’t think you're either of those, my dear, in fact, I think you’re one of the brightest in the whole of Teyvat, nevermind Mondstadt”

You hiccuped “Then why-”

Brushing away the wetness from your cheek, he brought your hand to his mouth to place a fond kiss on your palm “Because you mustn’t cry, (Name), don’t waste your tears on someone like them”

“I’m not crying, I’m-”

He shushed you gently and you finally relaxed, falling into his embrace with a heavy heart “-I’m not, I swear-”

Within the familiarity of your home, you wept in his arms, exhausted from the whirlwind of emotions and the scenes that had transpired that day, ready to just curl into yourself and try to block the flooding memories of history. Although, having Kaeya at that moment helped more than he could ever know, having him to rely on made it all so much easier to cope with that day.

“Tell me what ails you and I’ll listen” Brushing back some hair, he pressed a kiss to your head.

“Can..can we just stay like this for a while?”

“Of course, my dear”

Zhongli

He had sensed the incoming danger like it had been revealed in some sort of premonition. Maybe it had been a skill he had acquired after his long, eventful life, maybe it was his connection to Liyue and his citizens, but for some reason, as he sat before Iron Tongue Tian as the man recalled his tales of ancient Liyue like usual, Zhongli knew that the crowd that was forming around Wamin Restaurant had something that he need urgently attend, especially when even Tian paused his story to glance around the corner of the restaurant building to see the commotion.

When the archon had finally borne witness to the scene, he paused within the crowd, surveying the surroundings carefully. You were the centre of attention, along with another stranger, both glaring at one another with anger and disgust, though your own anger seemed to double compared to the other’s, seeing as your weapon was slowly materialising in your grip. Zhongli could also see Guild Master Lan making her way down the steps leading to the Guild reception, a worried expression on her face glancing between you and the approaching Millelith.

Zhongli made his decision, politely pushing through the crowd until he had finally made it by your side, hand being placed gently on your arm “(Name)?”

Both you and the stranger glanced at him, but he paid no mind to them, only held eye contact with you when Lan appeared by your other side, glaring at the stranger with a hardened gaze.

“Are you harassing my guild member?”

Before the stranger could respond, the Millelith had also popped in, glancing between you and them “Is there a problem?”

Zhongli had taken up your view when Lan began her take, she had borne witness for much longer than he had of course and he was certain that you were in no state to talk to the guards. Your eyes were glazed with hatred, pupils pinpricks in a sea of (E/C) and your hands were shaking, balled into fists.

If anything, he needed to try and calm you down first.

“Get the hell out of my way, Zhongli” Your teeth ground together, words shaking with anger “Don’t push yourself into my business”

“I’m sorry, my love, but I can’t do that” He tried brushing your cheek but you jerked away, glaring at his hand before glaring back at him, in no mood to be coddled “I don’t want you to do something you’d regret”

“Trust me, I won’t regret this one bit”

Zhongli held his tongue for the question that almost rolled out, knowing now wasn’t the time for inquiries when the stranger’s voice rang out, condescending and snarky as they addressed you.

“Still need people to protect you, aye (Name)? Of course, you’re still the same pathetic bitch from years ago”

You were lucky for your reputation around Liyue, for the picture of the kind and caring adventurer that had swept through the town from your years of living here because had it not been for that, you pushing aside your boyfriend and materialising your weapon to aim it at your sibling’s throat would have had you in cuffs that instant.

Lan grabbed you, tugging you away as you screamed “I’ll show you pathetic you fucker! Let me go!”

The Millelith didn’t wait to drag your sibling away, much to their cries of dismay, one sending Lan a nod while you continued to fight against her, crying out in frustration.

“Kid, you have to calm down-”

“Calm down!? No! Get the hell off me!”

Zhongli watched as you finally broke away, huffing and puffing up a storm before glancing amongst the crowd, staring at their worried and concerned faces, your own eyes tearing up before you looked away pushing past the crowd to find somewhere to be alone.

When Lan went to call out for you, Zhongli raised his hand, the two sharing a look before the archon made his way after you, his longer legs keeping a steady pace to which he could catch up to you, just beyond the bridge that led into Liyue Harbour. There were no people where you stood, just the lush green plants and great mountains of nature, a perfect place for you to let out your frustration without the prying eyes of the citizens.

“(Name)-”

“Leave me alone!” You cried, curling into yourself with your back turned to him “I don’t want you here, Zhongli! Nor did I want you back there! I didn’t need your or anyone else's help!”

You knew he was here from a place of concern, and deep down you begged that your words didn’t harm him in any way, but currently, you didn’t care, you didn’t want to care, you just wanted to be numb, numb to the flashbacks of your horrid past and numb to the feelings that were dragged along with them.

“My love, please, return with me to our home, I will brew some calming tea-”

“Tea? Tea!? Does it look like I want any fucking tea?! I couldn’t care any less about some fucking tea, Zhongli!” Spinning around on your heels, you scowled at him, not bothering to hide your rushing tears “Don’t you get it!? I want to be left alone, I-”

Two gloved hands gently encased your face, your angered expression morphing into one of shock as your partner stared down at you with glowing eyes filled with a deep-rooted love, affection, worry and so much more that you couldn’t put into mere mortal words. At that moment, everything felt as if it had melted away, only you and him were in this world, nothing else, just the two of you.

And you felt as though your heart had been lifted from the pressures of this life.

“I do not think it is best for you to be left alone” His baritone voice was always so calming, so serene and in your sane moment, you finally felt its effects “I wish to stay with you, so please, let me stay”

With a whimper, you grabbed onto his forearms and leaned your face into his hands, tears continuing to fall as your eyes fluttered shut “Okay…”

“They have hurt you deeply, haven’t they?”

Hesitantly, you nodded.

“Would you be so kind as to tell me the details?”

“I-...” Sharing eye contact once again, you whispered “Can- can you just...hold me for now? Please”

Moving his hands from your face, he engulfed you in his arms, leaning his head against yours “Of course”

Childe

The Harbinger had just left the Northland Bank, hell, he was just about to make his way down the spiral staircase but when hearing the commotion, he paused, something in his gut telling him to check just before and he was glad he did.

Glancing over the elevated walkway, he felt a fiery pit roar in the depths of his stomach, eyes narrowing dangerously at the scene; you were snarling in some other person’s face, their own face nothing short of disgust and a crowd that only seemed to grow by the minute.

Who the hell did this person think they were? Did they even know who you were? To stand so close to you, with a look of threat on their face like you weren’t about to kick their arse? Like he wasn’t about to kick their arse? How did this insignificant speck of dross not know your connections with him, the 11th Harbinger? Or did he know and was just trying his luck?

“Seems like someone has a death wish” And a death wish they had indeed.

Ignoring the perplexed glance from his subordinate stationed outside the building's entrance, Childe made his way down the steps, murderous look stitched on the whole way to the circle of civilians, the mass parting ways for the man that was Tartaglia and continuing to watch the moment in silence.

“Who the hell are you-” You both turned towards him, you in shock while the stranger stared in confusion until Childe’s hand wrapped around their collar, tugging them closer to look down at them with a deep-rooted disgust “-And why the hell are you harassing my partner?”

They fought against him, obviously, they did, but the surprise came when you saddled up next to him, grabbing his arm “Stay out of this, Tartaglia”

What? It hadn't been your request, no, you were always one to finish your whole fights you weren't "A damsel in distress after all!" no, you were so much more, so much greater but that look on your face, murderous and downright cruel- he just couldn't believe his ears.

Childe stared at you in shock while the stranger struggled, throwing him a dirty look in their attempts “Yeah, this is between my sibling and I”

Childe straightened in surprise, feeling embarrassment flood his system. Had he seriously just grabbed and threatened his lover’s family member? Oh, Archons, his judgement had been clouded by anger at the look of the scene, I mean, why would your sibling look at you that way-

“But it’s really no surprise that you still need to be babied, (Name), how shameful”

His eyes widened but not a moment later had you tackled your sibling, the crowd crying out in alarm as you threw back your fist and crushed their nose under the weight of your punch. “I’ll show you fucking shameful, bastard!”

There was shouting and a glance showed the oncoming Millelith marching towards the circle.

Being Fatui always did garner the attention of the guards nowadays, especially for him, who had tried to lure out the attention of their Archon by summoning an ancient god that nearly drowned the entirety of the harbour, so it was no surprise that they seemed to hurry in the pursuit when they noticed his appearance at the scene. However, lucky for him, your reputation as a great adventurer preceded you and throughout Liyue you were seen as a trusted and well-liked individual, meaning whatever trouble you got in, containing his meddling or not, was usually waved away due to the trust of the people.

So, without another thought, Childe tugged you off of your bloodied sibling and held you close, even as you thrashed violently, shouting at him to let you go.

“What is going on here?” A guard called, slamming the hilt of his polearm into the ground as he surveyed the area, eyes landing on the sibling before following the small trail of blood to you, still fighting against your boyfriend with threats falling from your lips “Was there a reason for this brawl? Who started it?”

As your sibling raised themselves on their forearms, they scowled and opened their mouth to respond, only for Childe to put in. “It was them, sir, they were the one that started it, (Name) was merely acting in self-defence”

The Millelith scowled at him, raising a brow and once again looking you over “Is that so?”

He addressed the crowd soon after “Is this what happened?”

And as expected, they all glanced over the sibling, then to you and piped up in agreement. It paid to be a hero, it seemed, the whole harbour returning the favour of years of helping out the community.

“If that’s the case, please come with us” The sibling cried out, anger and fear laced into their voice, trying to argue for their innocence only for the guards to grab them, hauling them away to archons know where while Childe did the same with you, slowly dragging you away from the scene and back into the bank, you screaming and cursing the whole way until you had made it to his office, finally managing to push him off and storming to the opposite side of the room practically seething.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Tartaglia!?” You cried, throwing out your arms in exaggeration “I didn’t need your fucking help! And why the fuck would you pull me off them!? I had them right where I wanted them and you fucking did that! Are you a moron!?”

“You had a sibling” He breathed, watching as you began to pace, muttering in an angered state “And you didn’t tell me”

“-after all these years I finally had the chance to end their pathetic excuse of a life and you just got in my fucking way! I’d waited too long for this moment and you fucking ruined it! How dare you, how fucking dare you-”

“(Name), why didn’t you tell me you had a sibling!?” He cried, walking up to you and grabbing your wrist to stop you “I was ready to kill them right there! And why are you talking about them like this!? They’re your family aren’t they-”

“They are not my fucking family!”

The scream echoed through the room, chilling Childe to the core as you ripped your arm from his grasp, running your hands through your hair before gripping it so tightly it felt close to being ripped from your head. But you didn’t care, no, you couldn’t, you were so angry and you needed something to keep you grounded, to keep yourself from losing yourself and getting lost in those haunting past memories.

The Harbinger felt his chest squeeze painfully as the tears fell down your face, red rimming your eyes and cheeks wet as you sobbed, chest heaving from trying to breathe “Family takes care of you! Family thinks of you in the highest light possible! They love you for who you are and they love you no matter what! That bastard hurt me, made me feel worthless and they refuse to believe they could do no wrong and I hate them! They are the bane of my existence! They are not my fucking family! I hate them, I hate them, I hate them, I-”

Arms were around you instantly, Childe’s face pressed into your hair as you wept, grasping onto the lapels of his suit and shoving your face into his chest to muffle your cries.

“I’m sorry” He whispered, his own eyes shining slightly “I’m sorry, I was being insensitive. Please, don’t cry”

“No, I’m not crying, I promised myself I wouldn’t-” You hiccuped “I wouldn’t waste any more tears on them-”

Then you broke off into more wails, your boyfriend holding you close and letting you continue to cry in his arms, warm and comforting until you were finally reduced to whimpers, leaning into him heavily as the remaining adrenaline in your body began to wear thin when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Will...will you tell me about it?”

You sniffed “Later...just hold me for now, please, Ajax...”

His arms tightened protectively “Anything for you, my love”

[nctsworld]

reigniting

✩ mark x reader | dance au | enemies to lovers | car s*x | smut | fluff | 1.6k

SUMMARY ⇾ your hate for your dance captain (and ex-best friend) melts and evolves into something more for the night. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ smut (near the end), car s*x, swearing, angst in backstory RATING ⇾ mature FOR ⇾ @markleesflathead​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ yes i’m bitter that most of my fics in ask form don’t show up in tag so i might have to post them as individual fics hhh || @markleesflathead​ idk how this ended up into car s*x but i’m sorry if it isn’t what you really expected slkfmd also i’m v flattered to be one of your fave writers *_* thanks for the bday wishes!!

“I missed this.”

Mark suddenly says into the air after catching his breath from all the laughing he just did. With the hand that’s been resting on the steering wheel since he parked the car fifteen minutes ago, he swipes his thumb against it.

Your laughter subsides too, turning your head in the passenger seat to get a good look at him.

The closest street lamp isn’t near enough to cast a light to see all his features clearly, but you don’t need much lighting to see the waver behind his bespectacled face, nor the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I missed you,” he whispers softly, then matches your eyes with a tilt of his head.

The beginning was simple. You and Mark, best friends since middle school, about to attend the same university and were going to do everything together, including extracurriculars.

Which included the university’s main competitive hip-hop dance team, since both of you were on your high school’s too.

From what you heard from upperclassmen, every year, the team offered at least five spots open. Of course, Mark and you were confident in yourselves and each other to make the team.

But during your first year, only one spot was available on the team.

The straining of your friendship began to slowly occur, since you saw less of each other in order to train more individually for the auditions.

And when the auditions happened, there was a new tension between Mark and you. Still friends, but competitiveness was a prevalent wall between you two.

The wall grew larger, tangled with vines of jealousy and bitterness, when Mark received the spot, not you.

Both parties tried hard to keep the friendship afloat, but it eventually came crashing down.

“You’re just fucking jealous that I got in and you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” you said. “and I should be, because I’m the better dancer.”

“As if.” he scoffed. He spat out the next words venomously—

“If you were better they would’ve chose you, but you’ve just never been as good of a dancer as me.”

That was the last time you spoke to Mark... for a while, at least.  

When second year came by, you decided to prove him wrong and obtain a spot on the team. Successfully, you did, but partway through the term, the captain dropped out and, to your dismay, Mark was given captaincy.

Fast-forward to today, Mark constantly gave you shit during practices and you knew it was personal.

Sure, you could’ve quit, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. However, you always did wonder why he didn’t decide to kick you off the team when he had the power to do so.

Following one practice, Mark ordered you to come by the studio on a separate night for a talk. He claimed it to be extra training, but you were mentally prepared for him to finally remove you from the team.

However, you were wrong and the unexpected happened—the wall between you two began to crumble. The hostile professionalism during the extra session grew into an area of familiarity, remnants of a lost friendship. After the session, Mark swallowed his pride and apologized about what he said back then, even offering to take you out to dinner.

During the meal, both of you caught each other up on the last year or so, and at the end of the night, Mark drove you home.

Laughing, smiling, and talking with you like the last couple of years were a nightmare faded into nothingness.

And you didn’t mind it, because you missed him too.

But instead of telling him that, you nibble on your bottom lip and rock your head forward with a small smile.

Continuing the conversation from where you left off, after Mark agreed to stop giving you such a hard time during practice, you say, “Can I ask you to stop doing one more thing during practice?”

“What’s up?”

“Please, for the love of God,” you say with your hands clasped in a prayer. “Stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”

A hearty chuckle escapes from Mark, leaning his head back into the headrest. “Why is it distracting?”

“You know why!” you exclaim, beaming. “I know you do it on purpose!”

He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “And why would I do that?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "Because I know the oh-so humble Mark Lee still loves it when he gets attention."

The driver runs his tongue over the bottom of his teeth in a smirk, hand still on the steering wheel.

"And what about you?” he retorts. “You must still have a thing for arms if you think it's distracting."

You gasp inaudibly, unsure of how he could still remember that tidbit after all these years, and you twist your upper body to inch near him, glaring at him accusingly. "Is that why you do it?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." he shrugs nonchalantly. Leaning closer to you, parroting your stance, he adds in a teasing whisper along with a squint of his eyes.

"You'll never know."

There’s a passing beat as your eyes lock, one that carries the weight of the years of loving each other as friends, hating each other as enemies, working together as dancers, and everything in between.

A moment of connection that represents what everything has been working towards to for a long time, even if you never thought you’d have the chance to ever have Mark in your life again.

His look falters for a millisecond, flicking to your lips, then straight back to your eyes as if he shouldn’t have done that.

The corner of your mouth lifts slightly.

"Are you going to kiss me, Mark,” you whisper daringly. “or are you going to keep staring?"

You’re awfully aware of both of your breathing. Yours, heavy and wanting. His, light and barely existent.

"How do you know I wanna kiss you?" he croaks, a small crack in his voice underlying his question.

Because maybe a little part of you always wondered what it’d be like for Mark Lee to want to kiss you since you were kids—for him to send you that anxious starry-eyed yearning that could send your heart into cardiac arrest.

And now, from first-hand experience, you know it really does.  

You hold your breath and question back—

"Am I wrong?”

The tension in the air snaps. He’s fast to cup your cheeks and crash his mouth into yours. Soft lips move in tandem with yours as you rest your hands on his shoulders, lightly tugging at his body.

The first, tender kiss is quickly thrown aside, along with your shirts. The desire escalates immensely and you’re suddenly straddling him in the driver’s seat, now pushed back to give extra room for both individuals.

"Should we slow down?" you ask offhandedly at one point while Mark’s mouth leaves a hot trail down the side of your neck. At the same time, his fingers glide and grip onto your bare waist, making their way to grasp your breasts.

Mark jerks away from your neck and carefully caresses the back of your head. "Do you want to?"

"Mm-mm,” you hurriedly shake your head and drag him into another strong kiss.

The exciting rush continues to run through both bodies present. When you return to the passenger seat momentarily to rid of your pants, Mark shimmies his bottoms and briefs down to his ankles and pulls a condom from his glove compartment.

“How often do you have car sex?” you joke, straddling him once again after he wraps himself.

In his reclined position, Mark looks up and scans your body quickly, both indulging in your natural beauty and in disbelief that you are here with him right now, after all these years.

“Hey, a guy’s gotta be safe—fuck, God.”

All quips and logic are thrown out the window when you sit on his length.

You have one hand pressed against his defined stomach, the other on the car ceiling. Bouncing with no end in sight, you allow the pleasure to enrapture your senses. Muffled whimpers reverberate against the inner side of your wrist as you feel him deeply with every movement.

On the other hand, Mark tries his best to keep his focus on you, but the intensity breaks him down. He groans in pace with your moving body, and he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Mark—” you cry. You rip your hand from the car roof and, without thought, frantically push it against the driver’s window, smudging the frost that all your collective breathing conjured up. You’re surprisingly already coming undone, and so is your lover beneath you.

“I’m close,” he pants thickly. His hazy gaze attempts to meet your half-lidded eyes, but you’re losing control. All you can do is barely nod and as you’re about to bounce more vigorously, Mark releases your waist and raises himself upward, clutching your back and neck to lock lips fiercely with yours.

You barely can thrust against him, but you don’t need to at this point, because the kiss is simply enough to draw out his climax.

You’re pulled back to reality after a few moments, panting with your foreheads tipped against one another.

“And to counter your question from before,” Mark grins, still breathing heavily. “I’ll only stop rolling my sleeves up during practice if you stop tying your shirt up to show off your waist.”

You try to stifle a smirk, but it can’t be helped. You reply to him with a flutter of the tip of your nose against his.

“No deal, captain.”

nctsworld’s birthday week celebration!

[lacheri]

vermillion // part iii.

|| masterpost || part ii. || part iv. ||

pairing: demon!Eren x fem bodied reader

content: DARK CONTENT, modern au, sacrilege/sacrilegious themes, demons/fallen angels, predator x prey, corruption, mention of nightmares, anxiety, blood/gore, eventual smut, strangulation/choking, violence, minors DO NOT INTERACT

summary: reader tries to rid herself of the negative energy plaguing her life.

wc: 3.5k

a/n: I cannot stress more how thankful I am for everyone being so patient with me through my writer’s block. thank you for you endless support and kindness. I hope you enjoy <3 (I spent 2 months on 3.5k words please omfg)

“I’d like to return this book please.”

“You’re having nightmares, aren’t you?”

Your eyebrow twitched on your forehead, your eyes squinted towards the familiar appearance of the elderly woman of your favorite bookstore. The novel in question was slammed on the wide plains of the checkout counter, and the elderly woman frowned down at it.

“Yes,” your answer was clipped, blunt.

She stared back at you, her kindness combating your harshness, “Sorry hun, no returns. You know this.”

“I’m not trying to give you trouble,” you pleaded. “But I can’t have this thing in my house anymore. It’s damaged, first of all, missing almost all the pages. Second, I’m going insane without sleep.”

“Did I not warn you, honey?” her smile did not falter. “To not sleep with it or read it before bedtime?”

“C’mon, you know how I am with reading,” you deadpanned. “I carry the thing with me everywhere I go until it’s finished.”

“That still doesn’t work for our return policy,” she pointed a finger above her, gesturing to a sign nailed into the overhanging wall.

No returns after 24 hours. You buy a book, you give it a forever home.

You huffed. What a stupid sign.

“You want to talk about it? The nightmares?” the woman pressed, eyeing you warily.

“Did you not have them when you read the book?” you tilted your head in question.

Her old eyes scanned the store — not a customer in sight aside from you. You followed her gaze, eyebrows furrowed together. Why was she so concerned about who heard her? Why couldn’t she just answer your question?

Your eyes returned to her form, searching her shirt for a name badge. Nothing. Just the striped blues and whites of her cotton t-shirt met your investigation.

Her thinned lips finally opened, her voice nearly a trembling whisper, “We can’t take it back.”

You laughed incredulously, throwing your arms up, “Alright, fine. I’ll just throw it away, or something.”

“You really shouldn’t do that,” though her smile remained in place, her eyes held a glimmer of desperation. “That’ll only make things worse.”

“Worse?” you blinked, shaking your head in bewilderment. “What does that even mean?”

Her eyes glazed over, as if she was having the most casual of conversations, and her grin began to unsettle you, “Sometimes, it’s better to not know, dear. I will say this; whatever you do, do not get rid of that book. Keep it somewhere hidden, and do not let others see it. It’s yours now, don’t pass that book onto anyone else.”

“But it was passed to me?” a feeling of dread pooled in your stomach. You felt nauseous, “Please, I just don’t understand why I can tell you about my nightmares but you can’t tell me why they’re happening. You’ve read it, you’ve had to have been through this before.”

“I wasn’t the rightful owner,” she took the black hardcover into her grasp, taking a fresh bag from underneath the counter and concealing the literature inside the plastic. “It seems as though you are.”

“You’ve got to me kidding me,” you groaned under your breath, leaning your elbows across the counter. Your head greeted your palms, smoothing back your hair as you cradled the sides of your face, “I’m one bad dream away from checking myself into the hospital. I’m — seeing shit, constantly. He’s fucking everywhere.”

Her beam finally diminished, shooting across the galaxy of her expression to die as a supernova, a black void left in its wake as shock parted her lips, “He’s shown himself to you?”

“You know Eren?” your hands left your cheeks, and your fingers gripped the edge of the wooden countertop, hauling yourself forward.

“Do not say his name,” she hissed. “Please, tell me you didn’t say his name in front of him.”

“You know him!”

“You naive girl,” worry filled her pupils, and she took a step backwards breathlessly. “What have you done?”

You blinked, recognizing your intimidating position, and straightened backwards, “I haven’t done anything! Please, please, just help me. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

It was like all the air in the room was sucked out at that very moment. Stagnant oxygen swirled in your lungs, as if your exhale would ignite an explosion. You watched on as her raw concern transformed back into the impassive kind smile she typically adorned. Her body visibly relaxed, her breathing evened. Finally, her eyes greeted yours in utter indifference.

“Have a great day. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you anymore.”

“What?”

“Please,” her voice cut sharp through the thick tension. “We can’t talk here. Go home, stay with someone you trust, just, stop saying his name. Stay safe, please take care of yourself.”

Your jaw hung in disbelief. You stood to full height, though your spine felt heavy in your back. You wanted to slump over in defeat, but your weighted thoughts and shallow breaths of panic willed you to keep trying for answers.

“You can’t tell me anything?” your voice crackled, the last shreds of hope left in tatters in your larynx.

The woman frowned. It was deep, every wrinkle uplifted by her usual beam fell, and you realized then how old she looked when she wasn’t smiling, “Like I said, sometimes it’s better not to know. Do you pray?”

“No?” you nearly whispered, and you cleared your voice to allow passage for the visage of confidence. “No, I don’t.”

“I recommend you start. Go to church, keep yourself in good health, whatever you have to do. A priest might be able to help you more than I can,” she reached across the counter, palms facing upwards, and you placed your fingers atop of her own. “I’ll pray for you. Take care of yourself dear, you are a smart girl. You’re not going crazy, believe me.”

“Feels like it,” you wanted to sob, a docile sniffle took place of the heave in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” she released your hands, and gave you one last fleeting smile. You nodded as she extended out the bag containing the damned text.

You felt numb as you turned your back, stumbling out of the shop. The woman followed behind, and as soon as the glass door closed behind you, a click signaled the bookstore was now locked. You threw a glance over your shoulder, the open sign now turned closed, blinds being pulled on the front facing windows.

Well, there goes that shot for answers.

You gazed down at the bag with rumbling anger. Rage blistered, nearly boiling as your freezing shock faded. Your limbs felt weightless, your jaw clenched tight. You just did not understand.

The sun casted golden rays on graveled sidewalks and budding weeds on your journey home. Cars whooshed past your body, your mind elsewhere as you became entranced in thought. You had ran your errands for the day, dropping off groceries and necessities on your kitchen island, took one good look at the book in question, and hauled ass over to the shop. You were done, frightened out of your mind and completely exhausted. You still had problems sleeping. Eren had not shown himself to you in a week, but the looming anxiety he held over you was enough to keep your eyelids from fluttering shut in the late hours of the night.

Your own book had made remarkable progress at the very least. As it turned out, delirium was a fantastic muse for writing.

Historia had called you a few times only to meet your answering machine. You had listened to the voicemails with sleepy frowns and teary eyes.

“Hey, just checking in on you. Haven’t heard from you in a couple days, hope the book writing is going alright!”

“Hey, it’s me again. Give me a call back, trying to make plans for this weekend.”

“Please give me a call back. We’re worried about you.”

You had simply sent out a group text informing your beloved friends you were just too tired to socialize. That your book was taking everything out of you. Which wasn’t entirely false, you really had been slaving away over your illuminated keyboard. Your editor had sent an email, informing you that your deadline was near to submit the first draft of your novel, and crunchtime was dawning. Tormenting sleepless nights had only aided you in your self isolation, but your promising book kept you strapped to your office. Afraid, drained, and alone, you were truly surprised you hadn’t completely lost your grip on sanity.

Sasha, Mikasa, and Historia had all sent you loving texts saying how proud they were of you for working so hard. That their bank accounts were ready to buy your book in every shop in the area. You had smiled at this.

You missed your friends and the life you had two weeks ago. You missed feeling the happiness and light in a room. Lately, all you had felt was never ending dread and despair.

You stalled outside the front steps leading up to your home. The blue painting chipping, the sun falling low into the horizon, you grit your teeth. The concrete flight held your attention for a beat, your grip on the plastic bag tightening. Your nails pressed into the inside of your palm, digging deep red crescents into your skin. The pain brought you out of your daze, and you casted a lethal gaze to your hand. The book felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds, and your mind was made up.

You were done listening to nameless old women. Especially ones who could not answer your questions.

You wanted your normal life back.

You stomped over to the garbage bins stationed on your street. They glistened in the golden lighting of the sunset, metallic and reflective. For public use, of course, your free hand grasped the edge of the closest bin. The black hardcover fluttered in the bag, a gust of wind opposing your weighted appendage as it lifted. It clattered in the steel caging as it fell from its confines, and you smiled.

Fuck this book and everything it had done to you.

The plastic bag discarded in the recycling, you felt nearly weightless as you strode back to your front steps. Unlocking your door and pressing through the archway, your back hit against the entry wall, your foot kicking the front door behind you. You chuckled breathlessly, shaking your head. It was done, and you were free.

The evening passed by quickly after. You lounged out on your couch, sipping from your favorite wine glass as you watched a documentary on nature. Your consciousness was slipping, but the program held your stubborn attention. Belly full of dinner, thirst sated with the deep red in your cup, you were utterly relaxed.

Life had finally felt optimistic for the first time in over a week, your spirits high. You had even sent out a text to your friends asking what their weekend plans were.

You hadn’t realized you had drifted off until the roaring of music paired with the end credits rolled across your eardrums. Stemware pressed against your chest, empty with the last remnants of sacred drops of nectar, you groaned. You hadn’t even remembered finishing the drink.

Clicking the television off and settling the glass within your palm, you stood to wobbly feet. You spared a glance to your messily made couch, deciding you’d fix it up in the morning. Same with the wine glass, you set it on your coffee table, and let your bare feet carry you to your staircase.

“I guess I left my bedroom lights on,” you mumbled, eyeing up the top of the stairs. Your bedroom door was swung open, soft yellow illumination casting soft shadows on the floorboards. You padded upwards with caution.

You would’ve remembered making a trip to your bedroom. You hadn’t been in there since you had woken up this morning. More so, you knew you didn’t turn on any lights. The bright rays had casted enough illumination into your space. There was simply no need for artificial light.

You stalled in the door frame before entering, apprehensive and calculated. You observed the room, seemingly nothing out of place. Your bed was still made, your night clothes folded in the corner of the mattress. Your bedroom window was cracked open still, allowing the soft city breeze to dance through the interior, the subtle hum of cars driving by soothing your ears.

So, you stepped forward.

The door immediately slammed behind your back, the lights flickering until they dimmed into darkness. You were swallowed whole, your eyes struggled to adjust to the black abyss.

You squinted, an unplaceable feeling pooling in your stomach. Fear should’ve come to mind, should’ve welcomed you with open arms. However, you quickly recognized the emotion as rage. Angry and fiery, you clenched your fists.

“I’m done playing your fucking games!” you called out, mustering all the courage you could. A dark chuckle greeted you in return. Spit fell from your curling lips as you cried, “Get out! I’m done!”

Your spine crashed against the cedar frame, and you yelped in shock. Strong hands, that unfortunately you recognized as familiar, held onto your shoulders with shattering grip. Nails dug in through your shirt, you whimpered, and that hot flash of anger quickly disappeared.

Eren’s breath was ice cold as he towered above you, leaning his head down to lock his pine colored eyes to your hazy ones, “You’re done? Aren’t you feeling awfully brave today, little girl.”

“How are you here right now?” your voice barely came out as a whisper.

“You think you could throw away my book and that would solve all your problems? Didn’t that nice old lady tell you not to?” his laugh was anything but humorous. “Naive, dumb little girl.”

“I’m tired, please, just leave me alone,” it was your last resort, begging.

“You know I can’t do that. Besides, you sound so pretty when you’re scared,” his right hand lifted its pressure from your shoulder, and he cupped your chin between his fingers.

“Eren please.”

“Ah, there it is,” Eren moaned lowly. “You gonna’ start crying now too?”

“Fuck you, leave me alone,” and start crying you did.

Tears cooled instantly in the frigid air as they trailed down your cheeks, collecting in the crook of his thumb and pointer finger. Your pupils dilated, and suddenly you could see everything with crystal clear vision. Eren appeared much more terrifying in the dark, jutting cheekbones and furrowed eyebrows. His eyes and smile were what plunged your heart to your stomach though — unassumingly soft, almost kind. As if he was performing an act of service.

With his left hand still digging into your shoulder keeping you locked in place, his right fell from your face. His verdant irises flickered downwards, watching in pure fascination as your tears trickled down the meat of his thumb. They left glistening trails in their passage until they collected into the bend of Eren’s elbow. He returned his focus to your face, all benevolence deserted his expression. His eyes abandoned their green hue, black pupils expanding nearly to the rim of his irises. You swallowed a lump in your throat, and suddenly his attention was caught.

You wish you had had time to react, to run away. Eren had seen your body twitch, your fight or flight activated, and his palm shot back to you. The inside of his knuckles pressed into the sides of your throat, and you choked on stagnant oxygen. Your eyelids fluttered, your heart pounding in your ribcage. He sneered above you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Have you thought about it? Our deal?”

You couldn’t even think let alone speak, his nails digging into the opposing sides of your trachea. Your body responded for you, your head shaking ‘no’ with the limited amount of room Eren’s palm allowed you. He rolled his eyes and loosened his grip, his hand never moving from your throat.

“And why not?” Eren quipped, a hint of malice in his tone.

“I—“ you began to cough, your esophagus screaming in the sudden onset of airflow.

Eren was not going to have this. As if appalled by his own hands, he wobbled backwards a step. Relief flooded your senses, a false coaxing for your exasperated breathing to regulate. You licked your chapped lips, and Eren folded his arms around his chest.

“Don’t wanna’ sell my soul,” your voice was hoarse.

“Is that what you think I’m here for?” his eyebrow perched.

You nodded, your knees buckling as you attempted once more to stand your ground, “Isn’t it?”

“I’m here for a lot of different reasons, little girl. Frankly, you were the one who summoned me. Maybe I’m trying to sell my soul to you.”

“What soul?” you rasped. “You fucking sold it already.”

“Did I?” Eren placed his pointer finger to his chin, feigning deep thought. “Is that what it says in my book?”

“Your book has missing pages,” you spat, embracing your middle. Your back was flat against the door, trying to distance yourself as far away from the entity in front of you. “Aren’t you a demon? Of course you sold your soul.”

“It’s cute, but very annoying how smart yet stupid you are,” Eren rolled his eyes, shaking his head and he turn to face the window. The moonlight casted iridescent illuminations across his features, and you recognized then Eren was terrifyingly beautiful. Although, when you’re designed to be a predator, you supposed that would be logical.

But wasn’t Eren crafted in Heaven?

“I’m getting really tired of no one having any answers,” you mumbled to yourself. The floorboards appeared grey in hue under the dim lighting as you inspected them, no longer interested in gazing at Eren.

“Would you like to know what a contract with me would entail?”

Your attention was caught once again, a pit developed in your stomach, “What?”

“I’m far too selfish to want just your soul, dear,” he peered at you from the corners of his eyes. “I’ve waited millennia for you. That’s not all I’m after.”

“Then what is it?”

“Everything,” Eren blinked, a small smile developing on his lips. “You, sweet, stupid girl, are my salvation.

“Pick another girl,” the quiver of your lip did not hold back the bite in your tone. “I don’t want to make a deal with you.”

He took a step closer, and you sunk to the floor, “Turns out you don’t really have a choice. I’ve been nice to you, you know? I didn’t have to offer anything beneficial to you, I have the power to just take whatever I decide I want. If I wanted your heart, I would have it. If I wanted your eternal devotion, I could’ve deceived you into giving it. But here I am, showing you exactly what I am, and yet you still have the nerve to bark demands at me. So, I’m going to ask you one last time.”

Eren planted his feet where he stood, slowly bending down until he crouched before you. The whites of his eyes diluted, inky coal black creeping forward until it met the circles of his green. His face was sharp, jaw clenched tightly. You could imagine that if you reached a pointer finger out and touched his bones, you would draw back a finger sliced open, drops of scarlet blood falling to the floor.

“Money, fame, power, glory — it could all be yours. Whatever earthly desire you crave, just say the word and it will become true. In return, all I ask for is you. In whatever way I decide.”

“You won’t go away until I say yes, will you?” you hugged yourself tighter.

“No, I will not,” Eren was deadly serious, expression stoic. “I will give you three days to decide. After that, I will not treat you as kindly as I have. I’m getting what I want, girl, be smart and choose to reap the benefits.”

“What about your book?”

Eren’s lips twisted into a sincere smile as he gazed at you, “It’s in your hand, my love.”

You ripped your arms from your sides, and low and behold in your right hand sat the weighted text of the cursed book. You whipped your chin upwards, ready to ramble off your chain of questions. However, Eren was gone.

The lights flickered on as if nothing had happened.

Out of sheer curiosity, you flipped open the hardcover. You expected blank, lifeless pages to meet your vision. To your alarming discovery, the parchments were littered and full of never ending text. You flipped through, your fingers shaking. Word after word, page after page, Eren’s story sat in firm typography. You felt entranced, limbs going numb. You fumbled to the last page, and took a deep breath. In beautiful penmanship, cursive and black, awaited a message.

Maybe this will give you some clarity.

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations.

TAGLIST: (bolded couldn't be tagged ):)

@onwiings @besotted-eros @ryukatters @esroh06 @phasmwrites @blondeboyfriend @cherryackerman @liashideout @e-jaegerenthusiast @erentoes @lagrimasdeglitter @bbyju @misslovingpearl @xadist @prxttyguardian @ashjbu @kakashihatakesbaby

[yanderemommabean]

I was going through your archive when I found a post that I love so dang much. It's the one where you take a demons power to go to different anime's. But surprise! Everyone is yandere for you now. But I gotta idea for it. Let's say you FINALLY get back to your universe, you're thinking that no more yandere's are gonna go after you. Then you see L in a cafe, Sebastian along with Ciel coming out of a car, and all the yandere's you THOUGHT you escaped from have just entered the Real universe.

You think you’re safe, you think that finally you can rest and not have to worry about being taken, being stalked and watched every living second of the day. The world seems to have slowed down, you no longer feel the need to run and escape from those you once looked up too and favored.

But then you feel the hairs stand on the back of your neck. That familiar trepidation turning into dread, sinking your heart and stomach. Call it instinct, call it magic, but you knew in your gut you weren’t actually safe.

A familiar blond bombshell with red wings is being admired down the street, his golden eyes piercing yours while he wears his signature playboy grin. Like a true hawk cornering it’s prey.

Just a few feet beside him, a man with a green and black checkered jacket is seen asking people all sorts of odd questions, you can only guess that he’s asking about you.

No. No this isn’t fair! This isn’t supposed to be happening! You want to scream, to dash the other direction, but you also want to fight them out of the absolute frustration of being chased constantly without a second to breathe. That fucking asshole demon! An absolute bitch!

You begin to search for a route that would help you hide. Alleyways, crowds of people, stores with accessible storage rooms, anything would be a godsend to hide from the ever growing list of problems and psychos following you.

While dodging as many pedestrians as possible was a skill you’ve reluctantly been honing in on lately, it was going to happen that you’d lose focus through your panic. You collide into a muscular, well built man with his hair in a tight bun. Beside him is a smaller, but still taller light haired man with an apologetic smile.

Asahi and Sugawara. Of course, even the sweethearts are after you.

“Oh-oh my goodness Y/N! I’m so sorry! I know I was looking for you but I didn’t mean-“

“Easy Asahi-“ Suga soothed, helping you up off of the ground while you wince and scrunch your nose. While colliding with the absolute unit of a man, you fell back and felt a crack as you used your hands to break your fall, and it looks like your body took that term literally.

“Oh god, that doesn’t look to good” Asahi murmurs, gently rubbing his thumb over your ever swelling wrist. His lips softly kiss the skin while Suga places his hand on your back, guiding you to walk with them as he beams his beautiful smile down at you.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to worry about anything, we’re gonna take care of you. I guess the whole team kinda scared you off huh? They tend to do that when overexcited” he smiles, as if any of this was remotely normal.

You were trapped. Not only where they more capable of chasing you down, their height and strength combined meant you couldn’t possibly get away, unless some miracle occurred. And lately? That’s been a commodity you’ve been starved of.

Asahi continues to ask if you’re ok, stuttering and timidly looking away on occasion when all you manage is a grunt of irritation and pain. You can’t even focus on where these two are taking you, your wrist throbbing and burning as the impact of the damage done starts to sink in.

As you are turned down a sketchy alley, Asahi abruptly stops in his tracks, pushing you behind him and giving Suga a stern and suspicious expression. Suga just nods, and pulls you close to him as he whispers in your ear “Stay beside me, ok? Not to make you worry or anything but...we don’t think we’re alone here”.

Fucking duh. Of course you aren’t. There’s as many psycho, obsessed anime characters as there is germs at this point. For all you knew cells from cells at work were coming to take you. And it would be kind of funny if that wasn’t a real possibility!

You just bite back a sob of frustration, tears freely running down your face as you collapse to the ground and bury your face in the hand that wasn’t currently having a malfunction. Suga assumes it’s the pain, kneeling down to try and soothe you the best he could. Seconds later, a blade swings by and misses you both by just millimeters.

Looking up from utter fear, you see none other than Zack Foster standing with an unhinged expression. “Alright you had your fun you little runaway, but I’m kinda getting tired of chasing you all over creation. A mans got needs you know? Cant keep his needs away from him forever!”

Asahi tightens his fists and puffs out his chest, stalking closer to the scrawny man as he sets his scythe against his shoulder. “You aren’t even close to worthy of having Y/Ns love! You just nearly killed her!” He shouts, giving Suga a nod to lift you up and make a run for it.

The two continue to throw jabs and tauntings as Suga gently lifts you, nuzzling into your shoulder as he rubs your back to soothe you. “You’re ok, you’re gonna be ok” he repeats, as if talking to a scared child and not an adult wanting to sell their soul again to get out of this nightmare.

Once again, because sure why not, Suga stops in his tracks and clenches you tighter to his chest.

You look over your shoulder to see just what new clusterfuck the universe has given you, meeting the demonic eyes of Rui, who’s webbing was ready to slice the man apart if he so much as breathed wrong.

“Enough games. Give me what is mine and I’ll make your death much less painful. Y/N was taken from me and I plan on getting rid of any and everyone involved”. His words were so calm, so matter of fact, as if he expected Suga to just comply and accept his fate.

You shut your eyes, hearing the voices of many other characters approaching like piranhas to an injured animal. Except instead of working together, they planned to tear anyone apart just to have you, and no matter the outcome you didn’t want to see just who the victor would be.

(-Mommabean, please leave comments or tell me what you think! Helps motivate me and to see where I need to work on more!)

[smutandfluffohmy]

His Sweater

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairings: George X Slytherin!reader A/N: This is written a bit weird? Uuu tell me what you think of the writing I’m trying something out. Summary: Slytherin! reader wonders around the castle and comes across George and Fred.

Read Part 2 here

I had a nightmare that night. I’m sure it was a horrible dream but I didn’t remember or perhaps I didn’t want to remember once I woke up.  The morning was not there yet but I could feel it, it was not early enough for others to be awake nor was it late enough to go back to sleep. I rose my head looking around the room hoping my roommates would for some miracle be awake; but everyone was still fast asleep. 

I got myself out of bed slipping my feet in the slippers. My pajamas bundled awkwardly around my thigh and knee, using my foot to tug it back in place. The dorms were warm but so quiet, I felt that this is what it must feel like to be the only person in the world. 

Walking out of my dorm and making my way into the common room I expected to bump into someone at any second, but I didn’t. I was the only one awake me, the kraken and the fire. 

Making my way out of the Slytherin common room I looked around the stretched out halls.I wondered who was awake at this time, why they were awake and what they were up to. Perhaps they were always early rises and they will be surprised to see me.

The usually loud halls were deadly quiet. I wonder if I’m dead, a curious thing it would be if I was because I don't remember dying.Looking around the halls, watching all the sleeping paintings that framed the tall halls. Despite walking down these halls hundreds of times they felt too big, too old and my bunny slippers felt too out of place. 

My mind started to wander, not enough that I didn't know it was wondering but enough to not keep my wits about me. 

Someone bumped into me , making me stumble backwards before a hand reached over and kept me on my feet. Looking up at who it could possibly be that bumped into me with the entire hall free. I looked up to see George Weasley’s eyes that were filled with worry and confusion as to who would be awake at this hour as if he himself wasn't awake at this hour as well.“Jesus Weasley you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“If you want I could finish off the job.” Fred sneered appearing from behind his brother.

Shooting him a glare I tried ignoring the burning spot growing where George was touching me “Haha very funny. What are you guys doing up.” I said straightening my already straight pajamas, cursing myself for wearing my green pajamas and white bunny slippers, I looked like a walking Slytherin banner.

George looked from me to his brother to my slippers before speaking “Could ask you the same thing.” he said.

“I asked first.” I retorted, scrunching my eyebrows together.

“Shame you’re outnumbered.” Fred shrugged hiding something behind his back. Technically they’re outnumbered if they would only count my bunny slippers.

Shrugging my shoulders I looked between them “Had a bad dream.”

“So you got out of bed to wonder the halls.” Fred said scrunching his nose at me.

“Your turn.” I said 

“Counting the paintings wanted to make sure they hadn’t hopped off the walls.” George said with a face splitting smile that seemed too bright and too happy for an hour when the sun wasn't even out.

“Fine I’ll just follow you two around if you’re going to be like that.” I said, maybe I’ll get another smile from George even if I had to put up with Fred.

“No.” Fred said spinning around walking in front of me, his hands still behind his back hiding water it was.

“You can’t stop me.” I answered confidently, as confidently as someone with no wand and no socks could sound.

George snickered beside me “We can.” he said. But his threat was empty, a sweet empty like an empty sweets wrapper.

Fred seemed to catch on to the tone in his brothers voice because he rolled his eyes before saying “Whatever hurry up we have lots to do, places to be”

George shifted uncomfortable besides me, Fred rhythmically tapped the thing in his hand, the silence too loud for us to ignore.I shivered from the cold and the awkwardness.

Fred laughs “Did you think Hogwarts was warm at 3am? In the winter? A bit dense aren't we.” he says stretching his arms over his head, my embarrassment spread across my face.

George broke my silent embarrassment “Don’t mind him he’s upset were awake this early.Here you can borrow my jumper” he said tugging the jumper off, messing his hair in the process. 

The color returned to my face, was it possible for someone to be attractive with bed head? Apparently it was. I just wish I realized this in a less compromising moment “Are you sure? Aren’t you going to be cold?” I said hesitant to take the offered jumper.

George smiled “I’m sure. I hardly get cold” he said putting my head through the jumper, the flappy arms hanging off my shoulders.

My thoughts left my head, I couldn't even remember what it felt like to have any. “Thank you I re-” I mustered out

Fred sighed making George and I jump, forgetting he was there at all “Barf. Can we hurry up.” He said. Putting my arms through the sweaters arms, smoothing out my hair trying to get rid of the static.

“What are you guys doing.You never said” I said speed walking trying to keep up with their long strides.

“Feeding the narwals the live around the castle I reckoned they were a bit peckish.” Fred said pointing at deep dark corners in the hallways.

“Narwhals live in the ocean.” I said, far too serious and far too matter a factly that made me wince inside.

“It doesn't matter they’re not real.” George said with a laugh tugging at his shirt collar.

“Mate...” Fred said with a mix of bemusement and a horrified look before laughing, shaking his head and continued making his way to wherever they were going.

“What?” George said looking from his brother to me, trying to figure out the punchline he felt we’ve hidden from him.

“George narwhals are real animals.” I said quietly to him.

“Oh.” George murmured his face getting as red as his hair, a task I didn't know was possible.

“Besides can’t tell you, you might go on and tell your boyfriend Malfoy.” Fred said waving me off. Now it was my turn to turn red.

“Yea can’t say we can trust a Slytherin with our plan.” George said with a hint of something in his voice and a different spring in his step.

“First of all Malfoy isn’t my boyfriend. Second I love a good laugh come on Weasleys spill.” I said, excitement running through me at the thought that I could be part of one of their pranks.

“I still don't think we can trust them.” Fred said looking over my head to talk to George.

“I don't think so either, feel like she’s a secret spy sent out.” George said pretending to whisper.

“Just tell me.” I said looking up at them, as they averted their eyes up to the ceiling. 

George let out a laugh “Slytherin and Gryffindor quidditch game today so we’re hexing Slytherins area to turn into-” he said

“Gryffindor colors.” Fred said finishing the sentence his brother had started. 

“Hmm brillant but-” I said cracking my fingers, wincing at the loud sound promptly dropping my hand.

“But?” Fred said cocking his eyebrow at me, wanting and not wanting to hear what I had to say.

George mimicked his brothers expression looking down at me “I don’t think it gets more brilliant than that.” he shrugged.

“BUT.” I said poking both of the on the arms. “What if you changed our horns to cheer for Gryffindor instead.” I said, unsure if it could work or not but I’m sure if it could be pulled off the people to come to was the Weasley twins.

“Well take it into consideration.” George said, side eyeing me perhaps sizing me up or perhaps a bit crossed he didn’t pitch the idea first. I could feel myself beam at the thought I might have possibly contributed to a great Weasley prank.

Steps echoed through the empty halls. Stiffing at the sound the three of us froze, too unsure or afraid of the volume of our own voices afraid they might come out too loud and give us all away.

“Fucking hell someones coming.” George said barely above an audible whisper but it felt like he was shouting at the top of his lungs in that moment.

“Told you they’re was a mole” Fred scoffed at his brother eyeing me with fake anger and trying to hold back a laugh. Or perhaps he was in fact a bit crossed with me.

“Shut up. Go on I’ll take care of it.” I said stepping in front of them, shooing them away to continue on. Offering myself as a sacrifice, I only wonder if I was going to be a eye rolling encounter or an after class eraser dusting sacrifice.

“I knew they weren't a mole.” George smiled from me to his brother.

“Perhaps.” Fred said dragging out his s, not believing me until I proved it.

Rolling my eyes I took a step backwards “Go on carrot tops.” I smiled up at them.

“Oi no need to come after the hair.” Fred said in moving his hands up in defense, a laugh threatening to leave his mouth and running his aloof demeanor.

“I’ll be cheering for you Wesley. Even if you don't hex the horns.” I said smiling at George, I wondered what smile wouldn't give my crush on George but it didn't matter because I couldn't see it.

“Thanks glad to see I’m finally being appreciated.” Fred said puffing his chest out pretending to throw a bludger, a faint smile spreading on your face.

“Oh guess I’ll cheer for you too carrot top. Now go hurry” I said shoving them as I started running towards the source of the sound, my bunny slippers ears bouncing in different direction with each step.

Harshly stopping, and turning around “Wait George your jumper.” I shouted, a shouted only above a whisper but still too loud.

“Give it to me later!” George whisper shouted towards me a lopsided smile on his face, a smile I don't think I’ve seen on others.

“Earth to George hurry up.” Fred said slapping his brothers arms to get his attention that I’m sure he had as soon as he said his name.George turned to his brother as they ran side by side. “I think you’re carrot top and I’m Wealsey.”

“Ha whatever makes you feel better.” George laughed shoving his brother before running towards the Quiditch field.

[pretoriafics]

Therapy Sessions with the Devil - Part II

You guys requested me about this one so much! I'm glad all of you liked part one. Now, prepare yourself for your worst nightmare being Homelander's therapist.

Word count: 1.683 Contain: Therapist!Reader x Homelander Warnings: Mental disorders, sexual harassment, stalking and regurgitation. +16 only Versão em português aqui PART 1 THE BOYS MASTERLIST

If hell really exists, for you, it sure would be Friday mornings. Of course, that was a very contradictory thought for most people. Friday was usually associated with a fun day where, after work, you could go out with your friends in the evening and return home whenever you wanted. That was the advantage of Fridays: The fact that you know you don't have to wake up early the next day to go to work. Knowing that the week was coming to an end was like a cool breeze, as well as knowing that the next day would be pure rest. That didn't exactly apply to you. Okay, it was great to know that you wouldn't have to work the other day. That was the only good point on Fridays for you because on that specific day of the week you have Homelander as a patient. Your attempt to get rid of him on leaving Vought had been successfully thwarted because you were apparently a good professional. And you've never hated yourself so much for being good at what you did as a job. It turns out that, lately, things had started to get a little strange in the consultations with him. Homelander always mentioned a girl, whom he said he was starting to see differently. He filled her with compliments when he spoke of her, always reinforcing how much he loved the color of her eyes, her calm voice, and the way her hair moved with her graceful walk. Of course, according to him, if she were a Supe she would be perfect. But that's okay because he said he really accepted her "with that imperfection". You started to suspect that he was talking about you but avoided thinking about it. It not only made you sick with dread, but it completely perturbs you. A Homelander in love with you would be a great way to make it even worse than it was going. That morning on a Friday the 13th, when you arrived at the office, you saw that on your table was a sumptuous bouquet with the most beautiful reddish roses you had seen. Despite the beauty of those flowers, you took that as confirmation of your worst nightmare. Terrified, you let your bag hit the floor and ran to the bathroom. There, you knelt in front of the toilet and put all your breakfast out. Tears were wetting your face, your hands were shaking in pure fear. And then, you felt a hand touch your shoulder. “Yes, put everything out. Everything will be fine, it will be over… ” It was him. Homelander's voice flooded your ears, and you had to take a deep breath to try to take some control over yourself. “Okay, I'm already better. It must have been something I ate for breakfast. Can you excuse me and wait for me on the couch, please? ” He nodded, his blue eyes filled with concern. "Sure." As soon as he left, you closed the door. You took the toothbrush and the paste you kept there, brushed your teeth, and wiped away your tears. Then, you left the bathroom ready to get it over with. So, you sat in your chair while Homelander directed his worried blue eyes to you. You have started the query. "Well, let's get started then." “Don't feel pressured to make our session today. We can do it tomorrow, you are not feeling well. ” You forced a slight smile. “I'm better, thanks. And I don't work on weekends. ” Not least because you weren't willing to let Homelander ruin your Saturday. "I bought these flowers for you when I was coming here." He got up from the couch and took the bouquet from the table, handing it to you with a tender look. Homelander was beaming and even looked so anxious as a teenager in front of their crush. You, however, froze. You clenched your jaw and forced another smile, holding the flowers. “I appreciate it, John. I'm flattered, but I need you to know that we need to keep our relationship strictly professional and impersonal. I can have my therapist register canceled with this type of relationship with a patient because it is unethical, and I don't want to end up harming myself. ” Those words made you realize how brave you were. You had fought an internal battle to say that. "But I will put the flowers in a vase after the consultation." His expression became austere and you froze with it. Homelander nodded and lay down on the couch while you put the flowers back on your table. Fortunately, at that meeting, he hadn't mentioned you or anything you might suspect was about you. The subjects of that consultation were merely concerned with the Seven, about their suspicions about Starlight, and how angry he was with the team. You were with your head on the clouds. You couldn't stop thinking about what you would do now that your worst nightmare had become real. You were so disturbed, you didn't even see that appointment go by. It seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye, unlike the others that seemed to be an eternity. And then you were finally able to rest. Being Homelander's therapist also brought other burdens: No therapist could maintain consultations with you, because it was too heavy for anyone to hear you talk about Homelander. Until then, you hadn't been able to find anyone who could help you support the weight you carried on your shoulders. You even thought of writing everything you felt in a diary as a way to try to get out and put out what you felt. However, the fear that Homelander might read outweighed everything. That was another point: You felt, at times, that you were being followed and observed. The curtains in your house always remained closed, although you knew that if Homelander was really stalking you, curtains would not help. That was enough for you to start developing a little paranoia. But that Saturday had been unlike anything. As usual, you woke up with the feeling of being watched. However, it looked different that time. It was almost as if you were feeling that Homelander was also on the sumptuous penthouse where you lived. Knowing that hiding in any room in the house could be worse, you simply chose to go out with a friend. Your circle of friends didn't recognize you anymore, and they even seemed to be concerned about you. While you and your friend were walking through Central Park, while she was telling some random gossip from someone in your social circle, you couldn't stop looking around. Homelander was there, somewhere, watching you. You were quite sure of that! Night soon came, and that feeling of being watched did not go away. You had the impression that Homelander, when he came to watch you, never stayed that long. His maximum was three hours. But on that Saturday, he seemed to be on your heels all day. You chose to wear your worst pajamas that night, the one that best hid your body, since you never had the feeling of being watched at that time. You were certain that you would not be able to sleep, and you could already feel that your emotions were extremely drained. Trying to act as naturally as you could, you lay down in your King Size bed. You covered yourself with the blankets and turned off the lights. You were lying in a sideways so that you could see the door that went into your corridor. It was like you were waiting to hear Homelander's footsteps there. But then you saw, through the reflection of the mirror, the door to your closet - the only door you were facing away from. You saw the reason for all your dread. The mirror reflected the image of a Homelander with slightly red eyes, watching you through the crack in the door. His uniform pants were slumped under his feet, and despite the low light, you could see what he was doing - explained mainly by the movement of one of his arms. His eyes were on you as he touched himself, and that seemed to be the main reason he didn't notice that you saw him. Your heart sped up, and you had to contain a weeping of fear and the nausea you felt when you noticed that grotesque scene. Tears flooded your face so that your vision was completely blurred, and panic made your entire body stop functioning. Homelander was completely obsessed with you, and that would bring you to complete ruin. You didn't sleep the rest of the night - even when you noticed that Homelander was no longer in the apartment. Still, on Sunday morning, you only managed to get out of bed at seven. You had been crying all night, completely stunned by the surreal situation that had happened. Apathetic, there were no more tears, no energy to cry or be afraid. You were just an empty shell, an inanimate object - the Homelander's favorite one. So you walked slowly to the closet to change clothes. And there was proof that what had happened last night was real. It was everywhere. The pearly liquid present on the door, on the floor, and at some points on the wall proved that he had not touched himself just once that night. You staggered backward, feeling that sudden wave of nausea again. That scene was enough for you to stride to the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet while your body tried to expel something through your mouth, without success. Suddenly, you felt your heart racing. Panic enveloped you, and you leaned against the bathroom wall, your breathing as fast as your heart. Sweeping heat shot through your body, and you started to feel sweaty. The air seemed to start to drain from your lungs and you thought you were about to die. And if your time to die had indeed come, fine. Homelander would no longer torment you anymore.

[dweetwise]

some fluffy adamkate for @neilusgrey because this ship is adorable <3 i used some prompts from this post while writing. it fit them too well!

word count: 3320

Adam X Kate: Turn your face to the sun

“So? What do you think?” Kate asked.

Adam looked around their surroundings. They were attending a folk concert held in Kate’s hometown, and even though it wasn’t Adam’s usual scene, he’d been quick to accept when Kate had invited him.

The sun was shining bright in the sky and nearly everyone was smiling, the sound of music getting louder but nowhere near unbearable as they approached the small stage in the middle of the park. There weren’t as many people as Adam had feared, only a small crowd forming in front of the stage.

“It looks nice,” Adam said. “I’m glad you asked me to come.”

“Of course!” Kate said. “It’s about time we—”

“Kate! Over here!” someone shouted from behind them, effectively interrupting their conversation.

Adam watched as Kate turned around to face a group of people, her face cracking into a brilliant smile once she seemed to recognize them.

“Hey, y’all!” Kate beamed, hugging one of the women. “Long time, no see.”

It was strange to see Kate so in her element. Just walking across the park and to the event area, they’d been stopped several times as people wanted to catch up with Kate and a few even asked for her autograph.

“It’s so good to see you! Where have you been?” one of Kate’s current admirers asked.

“Oh, I did a bit of soul-searching,” Kate explained. “Kinda needed to drop off the grid for a while.”

Adam could tell Kate was struggling with the lie. It had been a couple months since their escape from the Entity and they were only just now getting used to the normalcy of the real world. Standing here, being alive and well and surrounded by happy people with the sun shining down on them was almost too good to be true.

“This is my date, Adam!” Kate introduced him.

But the best thing about the situation was that Adam was here with the most incredible woman he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

“Nice to meet you,” Adam said, giving a polite nod to the group.

“Likewise!” one of Kate’s friends said. “We’ll leave you to it, but let’s catch up sometime, okay?”

“That sounds lovely!” Kate agreed, before turning to Adam. “Come on, let’s find a good spot!”

Adam followed Kate closer to the stage, almost transfixed on the way her long dress swayed in the gentle breeze. With her flowy sundress and the daisies in her hair, Kate looked like a personification of summer, and Adam was honored to be allowed to bask in her warmth.

It also reminded Adam how overdressed he was for the occasion. He’d chosen to wear a suffocating button-up and stiff chinos that already felt too warm for the weather. Hopefully he’d manage a few hours in the Pennsylvanian summer.

“You wanna stay farther away from the stage?” Kate asked.

“Yes, please,” Adam said with a grateful smile.

Kate knew how much of an introvert he was and she had never appeared to see it as a big deal. The concert was already out of Adam’s comfort zone, so getting some relative privacy would be very welcome.

They found a spot away from the commotion but with a relatively unobstructed view of the stage and Adam pulled out the picnic blanket he’d packed earlier and spread it over the soft grass. All the while Kate kept looking at him in intrigue, making Adam wonder whether he’d done something wrong.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“You have a really good smile, you know that?” Kate said, making Adam realize he’d been smiling the entire time.

“Oh. Thank you,” Adam said, scratching at his neck self-consciously. “I guess I don’t tend to smile that much. Especially after…”

He didn’t need to explain further. Kate nodded in understanding, knowing they all had their own demons to battle after their capture and subsequent escape from the creature that still haunted their nightmares.

“Let’s make some better memories together,” Kate said with an adorable, soft smile.

Adam felt his face heat up and he merely offered a stiff “yes” as they started unpacking their bags.

They’d never officially decided what this was between them. For what felt like years, they’d been closer than friends but not quite lovers. None of the other survivors had batted an eye when Kate sought comfort in Adam’s arms by the campfire every time the trials became too much. There were jokes about them being a couple, sure, but to this day nothing had actually happened between them. Adam had never wanted to push and regardless, a world of violence and death wasn’t exactly the best setting for romance.

But now they were free and Kate had wasted no time in asking him on a date. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he was certain that it had to mean something.

“I brought snacks!” Kate's triumphant grin snapped Adam out of his thoughts.

Adam watched as she retrieved a small box of strawberries as well as a packet of cookies from her beach bag.

“I wanted to have a picnic but didn’t know what you liked, so…” Kate explained.

“That was very thoughtful of you,” Adam said. “I didn’t realize to bring anything…”

“And I didn’t expect you to!” Kate reassured. “Come on, have some!”

They sat down to enjoy the snacks together, catching up on the brief period of time they’d been apart. Adam had been busy with a pile of paperwork about his disappearance in Japan and Kate had temporarily moved in with her parents. It became clear that neither of them were certain what the future would bring.

“There’s so many opportunities!” Kate said. “We can do whatever we want. The freedom is amazing.”

“It is,” Adam agreed. “But also a little overwhelming.”

He had no idea what he would do or where he would even go. All he knew was that he wanted to be near Kate; she was his rock and no matter what happened, he was sure he’d be okay as long as they were together.

Of course, he couldn’t say that out loud. They weren’t a couple and it was a little too intense to place so much importance on their friendship.

“We’ll figure something out,” Kate said, and just her smile was almost enough to reassure Adam.

They sat together and finished the snacks while enjoying the music, until the crowd seemed to get even more invigorated as people got up to dance. Adam watched a small group form in front of the stage with people twirling, jumping and laughing as they danced to the upbeat music.

"Let's join them!" Kate suggested almost immediately.

Adam shouldn’t have been surprised. Kate’s love for music knew no bounds, and even now she was nearly shaking with the boundless energy she always seemed to possess.

"We can't just leave our things," Adam tried to reason. "You go on, I'll stay here."

"Aw, you can’t get rid of me that easily! I wanna dance with you!” Kate said. “Nobody's gonna take anything.”

"I'm not much of a dancer," Adam protested, abruptly feeling the nervousness start to kick in.

"You'll be fine, hun—I promise!" Kate smiled at him and extended her bracelet-clad hand. 

Before the fog had swallowed him all those years ago, Adam would have declined in a heartbeat. But he wanted to believe he had changed. During the last few years, he’d learned he was much more capable than he could have ever imagined—a little dancing surely wouldn’t kill him.

So he grabbed Kate’s hand and let himself be briefly pulled into her world of sunshine and spontaneity.

While they approached the stage, Adam tried his best to learn the choreography by observing people dancing. To his mortification, there didn’t seem to be choreography, all of the dancers seemingly able to effortlessly improvise a professional-looking routine.

By the time they reached their destination, Adam’s hand was sweating where it was holding Kate’s. She didn’t seem to care, only turning to him with a bright smile before settling closer to him in a dance position.

"Don't worry hun, just follow my lead!" Kate said.

Kate started leading him into a dance and Adam followed the best he could. He stared at her feet to try to get the hang of her movements, focusing too hard and completely ignoring the beat—

It was only a matter of time before his foot landed on Kate’s much smaller sandal-covered one.

"Sorry!" Adam apologized, embarrassed over his mistake. “Did I hurt you?”

"Don't worry so much," Kate said. "Look at me and just go with the flow."

Adam lifted his gaze to Kate's face and some of his tension melted away under her familiar smile.

Gradually, he got the hang of it. The song changed but the rhythm of Kate's movements stayed the same, and eventually Adam's clumsy steps got more confident and mirrored the spring in Kate's. He learned to read her ques, changing directions when she did and twirling her around when she wanted to. Kate laughed and giggled while they danced, the smile never leaving her face, like this is what she was made to do.

Adam realized she might not have gotten the chance to dance with anyone before this, not since their escape. Kate was never meant for the dull grey world of the Entity; she was meant for this, sun and music and dancing without a care in the world. And Adam was honored to be able to give it to her.

He lost count of how many songs they danced to. Previously, he might have been embarrassed of letting Kate lead, but any worries about arbitrary gender roles had disappeared during the years where their lives were nothing but survival.

Worrying about the past was the last thing on Adam’s mind as he followed his ray of sunshine into another dance. He was sweating something fierce but he didn't care, absently popping a few buttons on his shirt and rolling up the sleeves to try to cool down. Kate seemingly didn’t tire of dancing, but Adam spotted the redness on her cheeks and the more pronounced breaths she took as they picked up the pace and the exertion started to kick in.

At some point, people started forming a ring in some sort of group dance, and Kate didn’t hesitate to guide them to join in. The choreography was easy to understand this time, Adam effortlessly keeping up as everyone danced in a ring, before partnering up and switching every so often. Even though he stumbled a few times, Adam had always prided himself on being a fast learner.

When Kate twirled herself into being his partner for the finale, Adam found himself laughing. He was having fun.

"See? I knew you'd like it!" Kate said.

“Only you could convince me to do something like this,” Adam said.

Kate laughed with him, the sound radiant and inviting. She was beautiful and so full of light, turning heads even on the makeshift dance floor. He didn’t think he’d ever quite understand what she saw in a nerd like him.

Once the song ended, Kate let out a sigh.

"Whew, I'm beat!" she said.

Adam couldn't agree more. No matter how much he enjoyed the dancing, he was starting to get winded and his shirt was now drenched in sweat.

"Let's go drink some water," Adam suggested.

They returned to their spot and, to Adam's surprise, everything seemed to be exactly the way they left it. He'd completely forgotten about his worries while they danced.

Adam got out his water bottle from his backpack, when Kate's voice interrupted him.

"Aww, no!" Kate said, clearly disappointed when she peered into her bag.

"What's wrong?" Adam asked.

"I didn't close my bottle properly," Kate said, pulling out her wet, empty water bottle. "It's leaked all over."

She showed her bag that contained some now-soaked cookie crumbs and her keys bathing in water.

"I'm so sorry," Adam said. "We should hang it to dry somewhere—"

"It's not a big deal," Kate said with a smile. "It's just gonna smell like soggy cookies for a bit. That's what I get for being a klutz."

Adam's full water bottle felt heavy in his hands.

"Here, have some of mine," he said, extending the item.

"Are you sure?" Kate asked.

"Absolutely," Adam said. "We need to stay hydrated in this weather."

"You're the sweetest," Kate said and Adam felt his face heat up from the compliment.

Kate accepted the bottle, and only took one prim, small sip before holding it out for him.

"Come on, take a proper drink," Adam encouraged. "We’ll split it in half."

Kate gave him a sheepish smile, before tipping her head back and taking big gulps of the beverage, drinking nearly half of the bottle.

"Whew, that was refreshing," Kate said with a happy sigh. "Thanks, doll."

"My pleasure," Adam said.

He followed Kate's lead and emptied the bottle with similar gusto. The water felt heavenly in his dry throat and overheated body.

Afterwards, Adam insisted on setting up Kate's bag to dry in the sun.

"It should dry in no time," Adam said. "It's really hot today. I wish I was dressed for the weather."

"But you look so snazzy," Kate smiled. "Feels like I'm with royalty."

"I don't know about that. You look incredible today. I mean—err, you always do, but..." Adam floundered. "Your dress is beautiful."

"Thank you," Kate said with a shy smile, doing a little twirl. "It's good for dancing."

"I still can't believe you got me to dance," Adam said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Admit it. You had fun back there!” Kate was positively beaming at him.

"I did," Adam admitted. "And I never would have tried it on my own. Thank you."

"Thank you for doing it for me," Kate said. “I know this ain’t your thing, and I didn’t wanna push too hard. But I knew you’d be great, and…”

Kate trailed off, and Adam followed her gaze to an ice cream booth at the foot of the hill.

"Do you want to get ice cream?" Adam asked.

"I was just about to ask!" Kate grinned.

They walked to the kiosk, only standing in a short line as most people were still busy dancing. Adam took some time to browse the list of available flavors while they waited.

"Do you know what you're getting?" Adam asked.

"Not yet—there's so many to choose from!" Kate said, almost as in awe.

Adam hummed in agreement and focused back on the list. He was a little disappointed to not find matcha flavor on the menu, as it was his favorite from his time in Japan. Most of the options looked sickly sweet, and Adam skimmed over the cookie and candy flavors until eventually settling onto pistachio.

He glanced over at Kate who was still staring at the menu. If Adam had to guess, she was choosing between some of the more strange flavors—maybe even thinking about mixing them into a daring combination.

"Okay, I'm done!" Kate said once it was their turn to order. "You go first."

"One pistachio, please," Adam said.

"And for the lady?" the vendor asked.

"Chocolate," Kate said.

Adam turned to look at Kate in surprise.

"I ain't that adventurous with food," Kate explained with a sheepish grin.

After Kate's usual spontaneity and boldness, it was incredibly endearing to find out that she was a picky eater. Adam was suddenly eager for an opportunity to introduce her to Japanese and Jamaican flavors in the future.

"You can't go wrong with the classics," Adam assured.

"Here you go," the vendor said, handing over their orders. "That’s $3 a piece."

Kate started fishing out her wallet, but Adam beat her to it.

"It's on me," Adam said, already paying for their orders. “I owe you for the snacks.”

"Well, ain't you a gentleman," Kate said with a mischievous smirk.

Rather than stay closer to the stage, they returned to their spot to enjoy their ice creams.

"How is it?" Adam asked.

"Love it!" Kate beamed. "Do you wanna try?"

Butterflies danced in Adam's gut when Kate extended the treat to him. He nodded and carefully took a bite out of the ice cream. The chocolate flavor was not as rich as he'd normally like, but the texture was creamy and it didn’t taste too sweet.

"It's really good," Adam said. "Do you want to try mine?"

Kate regarded his green ice cream skeptically.

"Sure!" she eventually decided.

Kate hesitantly tasted the ice cream with the very tip of her tongue, before her face twisted into a grimace and Adam found himself laughing.

"Not for you, huh?" he teased.

"No, sorry, it's…" Kate said. "It tastes weird. Why is it salty?"

"Different strokes, I suppose," Adam smiled, digging back into his strange-tasting dessert.

They ate in companionable silence, watching the music performance and the people dancing to it.

"Thanks for coming with me today," Kate broke the silence.

"Thank you for inviting me," Adam said. "It's not my usual type of event, so I hope I didn't make too much of a fool of myself."

"What are you talking about? If anything, you're too cool for a place like this," Kate said.

"That's definitely not true," Adam protested. "I am not ‘cool’ in the slightest."

"Yeah you are," Kate insisted with a smile. "You're always so calm and polite and know exactly what to do. It feels like I'm just a dumb country girl in the presence of a prince or something."

Adam couldn't believe his ears. All this time, he’d thought Kate was too good for him, and she’d felt the exact same way about him?

"You are anything but dumb, Kate," Adam said. "To be honest, your charisma and talent sometimes overwhelms me. I often wonder what you see in me."

Kate laughed; not a mocking one, but a laugh that told Adam he was being absurd.

"Guess we're both kinda dumb, then," Kate smiled.

Adam returned the smile, feeling immense relief. He now knew that—for some crazy reason—Kate was just as fond of him as he was of her. Neither of them broke eye contact, and for a while they merely looked into each other’s eyes while their ice creams slowly melted.

"Can I kiss you?" Adam found himself asking.

It was barely above a whisper, finally having the courage to ask the words he hadn’t been able to during all these years.

"Thought you'd never ask," Kate said just as softly.

They both leaned into the kiss, and feelings of affection for this woman bloomed in Adam's chest when their lips met. Kate's lips were chilly from the ice cream but there was an underlying warmth in them that spread through Adam's body, like he was basking in the glow of the sun.

Their lips moved slowly against each other’s, hesitant at first and then finding a shared rhythm; just like when they danced together earlier.

When they pulled away, Adam was breathless, but it wasn’t not from a lack of air; it was from everything that was Kate.

"Hmm," Kate said conversationally.

"Hmm?” Adam repeated.

"Guess I don't mind pistachio flavor when it's mixed with Adam flavor," Kate smirked.

Adam threw his head back and laughed, and Kate did too.

They finished their half-melted ice creams while listening to the last songs of the concert. They talked about anything and everything, Adam no longer feeling like he had to hold back or keep up appearances. He placed his hand on Kate's and Kate insisted on trying some more ice cream from his lips.

It was the best date of Adam's life and he couldn't wait to see what their future might bring, knowing that Kate would be right by his side.

[all1e23]

Tricks & Treats

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Orion’s Halloween is quickly turning rotten until someone helps to turn her day around with a few sweet treats. 

Warnings:  N/A Unless you count a disgusting amount of fluff to be a warning.

A/N:   A new Astrophile drabble! This is set in the very far future, Halloween 2042. Orion is 27 and it’s just the kiddos. No Beck or Bucky. This does have some bits (okay a lot of bits) of the the shared Price of Astrophile universe collab with Tara and if you haven’t read The Price of Gold you need to! Thank you to my beautiful @moonbeambucky​ for looking it over for me. If you have not read the series Astrophile, THERE WLL BE MAJOR SPOILERS.  

Catch up on the series here!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!*

Halloween 2042

Today has been a disaster. A complete and utter nightmare. It started with spilling hot tea all over her copy of Star Lore and down the front of her favorite skirt, which forced Ori to settle for the little black number Cassie bought her as a Halloween costume. It’s supposed to be a cat but it’s really a dress accompanied by cat ears. It’s not that it’s awful, it’s not her usual taste. It’s a simple spaghetti strap dress, sweetheart necklace that doesn’t dip too low and cut just above her knee. As far as Halloween costumes go it’s fairly modest but it’s a little tight compared to the rest of Ori’s closet. 

Little did she know that was just the beginning to her terrible day. This was the first day in months that Ori was running the store on her own. No mom to fall back on. Not that it hasn’t happened before. At fourteen Ori was working the floor by herself so none of this was new but, today has been a nightmare from the moment the doors opened. It was unusually busy for a holiday, especially Halloween. It wasn’t often that the store was packed with customers on a day like today and there were moments when Ori began to feel claustrophobic with the amount of people filling the tiny shop.  

Half of the morning was spent on decorating the window display for a new series that was set to be released at the beginning of November. The copies were scheduled to be delivered today, but they never showed and when Ori called to check on their status, the man she was unlucky enough to be put in contact with screamed at her, explaining that it was a holiday and not everyone spent their lives working. 

It was one of those days where she wished she was ten years old again and Bucky could swoop in and save the day. 

By some miracle, there was a lull, and she was able to slip behind the counter where her phone is kept when she’s working the floor alone. She swiped away the missed calls from Cassie and ignored the texts from Leo. There was only one person who knew how to calm the swirling mess in her head right now and she knows how pathetic she looks, twenty-seven, and tears swimming in her eyes. She didn’t care because just hearing his voice would help settle her. Theo’s voice rang her ear and as happy as she was to hear it, part of her wished it wasn’t his voicemail. 

“H-hey,” Ori’s voice cracked, she cleared her throat ridding it of the tears choking her. “I know you’re at work. I’m sorry I’m calling. Please tell me I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m so sorry if I did. I just… I needed to hear your voice. I’m having a really awful day. That party with Cassie is tonight. I don’t want to go even though Cassie says it will be fun. And this new series. This stupid dumb shipment. They said they would be here today and I spent all morning doing the window display between the mad rush of customers by the way, they never showed. When I called to check in they said they can’t get here because it’s a holiday and well, they yelled at me. Now, I have to find something to replace the window display and spend another hour fixing what I did this morning. The store is so incredibly busy. I haven’t even stopped for lunch. I’m hungry and tired and I hate this day. Great. Now, I’m whining. Did I mention that I miss you? Well, I do and-” 

“Ma'am?” A deep voice grabs Ori’s attention and she turns around to find a man in a UPS shirt standing behind the counter, she smiles as kindly as she can and pulls the phone away from her mouth to answer him, “I’m so sorry. Can I help you?”  

“We have your delivery.”

Ori can feel the color drain from her face. She shouldn’t have that many boxes and the publisher on the clipboard being handed to her isn’t right. 

“Wait… No. No, I didn’t order that. That’s not mine-”

“Orion Barnes?” 

“Well, yes that’s me but,” She sighs, holding back the whimper that’s threatening to escape her. “Can you hold on just one second?" 

Ori didn’t wait for his okay like she normally would have, she stepped towards her office and put the phone back up to her ear, “I guess my terrible, awful, no good day isn’t over. Talk to you soon? I hope.”

Orion had her eyes glued to a stack of invoices in front of her when the bell above the shop door rang. Thankfully, she was able to clear up the whole shipping mixup, but dealing with that set her even further behind inventory. It didn’t matter much. She knew who it was without having to raise her head. Ori didn’t have to look up to know her sister had arrived. Cassie skipped nearly everywhere, she has since she was old enough to walk and between the jingling of the bracelets on her wrist, the massive keyring on her purse, and the bells on her shoes (that had nothing to do with Halloween) it was easy to know when she arrived. The jingling came to a stop next to Ori, and a slight nudge to her hip that made Ori look up from the papers in her hand to find Cassie handing over a small brown paper bag from the bakery next door. Ori narrows her eyes at the gesture. Is she trying to butter her up about the party tonight? 

“What’s this?”

“Cinnamon bagel from next door,” Cassie said with a certain self-satisfied taunt to her voice. “A certain boy texted me and said you hadn’t eaten today and asked if I could bring you something when I come by to pick you up for tonight." 

Ori beams brightly as she peeks in the bag, avoiding her baby sister'’ suspicious and slightly giddy gaze.

“Question. Why is Theo texting me about your food needs and how does he know about tonight?” 

She doesn’t answer, but this isn’t unusual. Like Bucky, Ori’s softer, gentler when it comes to revealing things close to her heart. There are some secrets she’s not ready for the world (or herself) to know yet. Cassie on the other hand is loud, in all things, but especially with what’s written on her heart. She loves just as deeply as Ori does but she’s quick to shout it from the rooftops, without a hint of fear.

Ori wishes she could be like that sometimes. 

“Something is up. I can tell by the smile you’re trying to hide!”

"I’m smiling because I was hungry and it was very thoughtful of you both.”  

Ori finally gets a look at Cassie’s costume when Cassie sheds her coat and she can’t help the surprised laugh that slips out. She’s in a white cotton dress that looked like it was made from one of those adult onesies, covered in glitter from head to toe and the rainbow leggings she has on matches the tail sticking out of the bottom of her coat and the mane on her hood she has pushed down. 

“What are you wearing?!” 

“What? I’m a sparkly unicorn. I look adorable!” 

Ori grins. 

“Yes, you do. You look beautiful.” 

The bell chimes again and Ori greets her brother without looking, he’s never far behind Cassie after all. Leo looked pretty much like he always does, slacks and a button-up white collared shirt under his coat but he was wearing black square-frame glasses. He leans over the mahogany counter and presses a kiss on Ori’s cheek. Whatever Cassie was hoping to get out of Ori would never happen now that Leo was present. Ori laughed at the pout on Cassie’s face, picking at the bagel as she scans over the invoice in front of her. 

“Ready for tonight?” Leo asks as he steals a piece of her bagel.

Ori shrugs a little, glancing at the clock and sighed when she saw it was nearing six. They would be pushing her out the door soon. It’s not that she didn’t like going out, she did. Things have been off lately and she hasn’t felt much like socializing, which is why her siblings insisted they have a party. If it turns out to be as terrible as she predicts it’s going to be, she can always call Bucky to pick her up because no matter what Bucky still drops everything to come to her rescue whenever she needs it. 

“It’s going to be fun!” 

“I guess. I’m not really a party person.”

“I know but you make the cutest cat ever.” 

Leo’s brow furrows and the worry on his face has him looking so much like Bucky it almost makes Ori laugh. 

“You’ve been working a lot. Skipping family stuff. When was the last time you came to family dinner and didn’t rush out the door? Mom said you’re working more hours than she is-”

“I should! She deserves time with dad and it’s not like I have a life waiting on me right now.” 

It’s been a little over a year since she called off her wedding and ended things with Cole and while she’s happy that relationship has ended, she’s nowhere near where she thought she would be at her age. She had plans and lists, milestones she promised herself she would hit by a certain age and now she’s… floating. No purpose. No real path. Simply riding her mother’s coattails, managing a store she wouldn’t have without her mother and she has no idea where she’s going or what her future is going to look like. It’s terrifying. So maybe she’s been spending a little more time at work to keep her mind busy. Sometimes it doesn't quite calm the chaos in her head, but staying busy helps. 

“That’s not true. You have us and, yeah, mom deserves a break but so do you. We thought it would be good to get out of the house. If you hate it I’ll bring you home.” 

Ori smiles. Leo has always been their protector, ready to jump in and save his mom and sisters from anything that could cause them the slightest bit of discomfort. She couldn't be aggravated with him for wanting to help, he’s only following in Bucky’s footsteps. 

“Yeah, okay. Today has been a mess. Give me a few minutes to wrap things up, okay?” 

She’s barely had time for her eyes to focus on the words in front of her when Cassie chirps from her side, “The window display is a mess. What happened there?” 

“Cassie!”

“I’m just saying. Want me to help you fix it tomorrow?”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Ori snatches the brown bag with her bagel resting on top and heads back towards the office in hopes she will be able to focus there, “and yes. I would like help. Thank you.”

“I’ll watch the desk!” Cassie shouts behind her, getting an appreciative smile from Ori. The quiet doesn’t last long. The shop bell is ringing and Cassie is yelling for her before she’s managed to make it through one invoice.  

“Ori! Get out here. There’s a delivery.” Cassie’s shouts are piercing her ears and she’s certain  the entire bakery next door can hear her clear as day. Ori steps back out onto the sales floor, frowning and having every intention of reminding Cassie not to scream in the store, but she can’t because she’s staring at the largest bundle of lavender she’s ever seen. 

“I-- this. What is this?” 

“They are for you!” Cassie squeals but quickly stops smiling and looks at the older gentleman who is wearing a warm smile when he confirms that they are indeed for her sister. 

“Yes, ma’am,” The man says with a chuckle, “If you’re Orion Barnes. These are for you.” 

He passes the delicate bundle wrapped in brown paper in her arm and passes over a pen for her signature. She quickly scribbles her name and pulls the small white card out of the twine, grinning foolishly at what’s written. 

“Who are they from?” Cassie begs, jumping up and down. “I already know but I need to see the card myself.” 

Ori presses the card to her chest to keep Cassie from sneaking a peek, she’s not willing to share a bit of the sweetness written there. Cassie quickly gives up on the card and snatches the receipt before Ori can grab it, finding exactly what she was looking for. 

“Theo Tucker! I knew it!” 

The thin paper is pulled from Cassie’s hand by Leo, who is staring at the receipt with a deep frown as if he can’t process what he is seeing. 

“Why is Theo sending you flowers? Where did he find a place that delivers lavender like that? More importantly… why is Theo sending you flowers?" 

Ori can’t answer her brother, she’s too busy grinning like a fool and hiding her blushing cheeks behind the soft purple sprigs in her arms. 

“What do you mean ‘Why is Theo sending her flowers?’ Because he loves her. Am I the only that’s been paying attention?” 

"He loves you. It's the same thing and you don’t get flowers.”

“It is a hundred percent not the same thing, Leo.”

There’s the faint sound of the twins arguing in the background, “How is it different?” “Leo you can’t be serious. You’ve seen the way he looks at her!” She should probably stop their bickering but she can’t. She can’t focus on anything, not while she’s daydreaming about California. 

Maybe it wasn’t the worst day, after all. 

“So, are you going to wear a sprig of lavender as your catnip? Seems like it added a little spring in your step.”  

“Cassie!” 

Cassie had squealed when Ori asked her to draw a cat nose and whiskers on her face. If she was going to dress as a cat she had to go all out. The ears, while cute, weren’t enough to satisfy the perfectionist in her. Before they left her apartment, she sent Theo a thank you text and a picture of her all dressed up. The simple response, you look beautiful, makes her stomach flip and leaves her head spinning. It drops a fraction when Leo asks why she’s smiling at her phone with such a goofy grin. 

No one is ready for that answer, so she tucked her phone in her purse for now. 

The minute they arrived, Leo stepped through the front door and pulled his shirt open to reveal a giant S stitched onto his blue undershirt and he proceeded to do several more times throughout the night. Despite her reservations about the party, it wasn’t so bad. Or maybe she was simply in a better mood. She spent a better part of the night hanging around Cassie and Ariel, who was dressed as Tinker Bell and her lovesick Peter Pan never strayed from her side for long. Ori didn’t know a lot of the people currently filling Leo and Ollie’s apartment, so it felt safer to stick by family. 

At some point a small group of people broke off from the larger party and started playing spin the bottle. It was strange to watch twenty year olds play a childhood game. There was bobbing for apples which didn’t seem all that sanitary if you asked Ori, which is why she declined rather emphatically when asked if she wanted to try. 

Halfway through the night their mom texted asking for pictures, so she took a few with Cassie and Ariel, some of her and Leo and of course all of them posing together. She even sent the few of Ariel and Ollie off to the Tuckers. Another text comes in but it’s not a response from her parents, a very handsome Indiana Jones pops up and she can’t help the huge smile that forms. He looks adorable with that hat and playful smirk and she tells him so. Ori peered over her phone to find Cassie and Ariel smiling, she cleared her throat and quickly hid her phone back in her purse. 

“Oh, look. There are some mummy cupcakes left. I better go grab one before they disappear,” Ori had muttered as she quickly tried to divert attention off of her. 

There was every Halloween themed treat you could think of. The chocolate covered strawberries dressed up as ghosts, bloody s’mores, and candy corn rice krispy treats were gone first. When Ori asked how they managed to do all this, Leo admitted with a sheepish grin that their mom had done most of the baking and Cassie and Ariel had decorated. She should have known Ariel had a hand in the planning, it was too well organized for Leo and Ollie to handle on their own. 

The party started to die down a little after one in the morning, Leo offered his bed but Cassie was already fast asleep and there was no way she was sharing with that human koala. After refusing to take Leo’s spot on the couch, Leo brought her back home with the promise to text him the minute he got back. There’s no way he would let her catch a cab back to her place all by herself. 

It’s nearly three by the time Ori trudges up the stairs to her apartment. She’s tired, but it’s a good kind of tired. Not that she will ever admit this to Cassie but tonight was fun. It wasn’t exactly where she wanted to be, and a very important someone was missing but it wasn’t as bad as she envisioned. She slips out of her heels and drops her purse on the table by the front door, she can clean up tomorrow when she’s not struggling to keep her eyes open. Right as she reaches kitchen island where her bouquet is sitting in her mother’s chipped mint green vase, her phone rings in her hand and she can’t help but grin at the name staring back at her. 

“Hey, you.”

Ori grins, dusting a finger over a stray sprig and she’s suddenly not feeling as tired.

“My day? You know, it wasn't so bad actually. It got better there at the end. Even better now.” 

[sparkandwolf]

I Know You (read on ao3)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale Rating: General Summary: “I thought I’d find you here,” Derek said, placing a gentle kiss on Stiles’ temple. He could barely feel Derek’s lips through the thick hair he had let grow during his senior year. He was never expecting to rid himself of his signature buzz cut, but it wasn’t exactly a priority when battling the danger they so often faced.

“Am I that obvious?” Stiles asked.

“To me,” Derek said simply, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder.

For @sterekvalentineweek day one: Hopeless Romantic

Stiles sat on the hood of his jeep, staring up at the school that had been both his nightmare and his home for the last four years. There were so many memories that surged through his mind when he read the bold letters that had been fixed too many times for him to count. 

Beacon Hills High School.

He thought back to the first day he had attended, still harboring a ridiculous crush on a girl way out of his league and ready for four years of being no one with his best friend. He never realized how much his life would change. He no longer loved Lydia - not in the obsessive way he had when he was a kid, at least - and he and Scott were no longer nobodies to anyone who mattered. 

And there were more people who mattered to Stiles than when he started his high school adventure. As if on cue, soft footsteps crushed the pavement behind him. He would usually jump to the ready, grab his trusty baseball bat for protection, but he recognized the cool cologne wafting toward him and the warm body that slid beside him that fit as perfectly as it always had. 

“Derek,” Stiles sighed happily, leaning into the arm that found its way around his shoulder. He breathed in Derek’s scent but didn’t look over at him, still taking in the building in front of him. 

“I thought I’d find you here,” Derek said, placing a gentle kiss on Stiles’ temple. He could barely feel Derek’s lips through the thick hair he had let grow during his senior year. He was never expecting to rid himself of his signature buzz cut, but it wasn’t exactly a priority when battling the danger they so often faced. 

“Am I that obvious?” Stiles asked. 

“To me,” Derek said simply, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles found himself blushing at the admission. Derek had been the biggest surprise to come out of his four crazy years. His best friend turned into a werewolf, he had seen multiple dead bodies and defeated the evilest creatures he couldn’t even believe existed, and still, falling in love with Derek was something he never thought would happen. 

“Yeah?” Stiles whispered, leaning his cheek against the leather jacket he still hadn’t gotten Derek to stop wearing. Not that he really minded. He pulled it off better than anyone else really could. 

“In fact, I know a lot about you, Stiles,” Derek began, sliding off the front of the jeep until he stood face to face with Stiles. “I know that graduating is something you should be celebrating with the pack instead of sitting here on your own. I know that you’re probably worried to be at your house because your dad is gonna be a sentimental mess after today. I know that when you come to the school, it’s because you’re trying to remember every single thing you can because deep down you worry about losing it all.” 

Stiles shook his head, prepared to argue, “That’s not--” He stopped himself, though, seeing a seriousness in Derek’s eyes he didn’t expect. “Is everything okay?” Derek nodded and took Stiles’ hands in his, licking his lips as he huffed out a nervous laugh. 

“I come here sometimes, too. I go to that spot in the preserve where I first met you and Scott, I go to the police station to check in with your dad so we can both keep an eye on you.” Stiles raised his eyebrows but stayed silent. As much as he wanted to argue against that, too, Derek seemed like he had something to get off of his chest. “I go to your house and sneak in your window like I used to before you realized how ridiculously in love with you I was, and I come here. This place that kept you marginally safe during the day so that I had time to sleep and try not to focus on you.” 

“I kept myself safe just fine, thank you very much,” Stiles said, but there was no heat in it. His heart was too full and his stomach tumbling with nerves as Derek stared over at him with so much love in his eyes, he couldn’t find it in myself to be angry. 

“You did, didn’t you?” Derek considered, rubbing his palms on Stiles’ thighs before holding onto the edges of his jacket like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. 

“What’s up with you?” Stiles asked, reaching up to cup Derek’s face softly. He leaned into Stiles’ touch and his eyes settled closed before he took a deep breath.

“I know you have plans. Big plans that mean moving away from here, from the pack. I don’t want to-- I would never want you to change those. You have proven to yourself and everyone around you that you’re so much more than this town has to offer and--” Derek gulped and reached into his pocket blindly, never taking his eyes away from Stiles’ that widened with every passing second. 

“What are you doing?” Stiles whispered, momentarily stunned as Derek knelt down on one knee, gazing up at Stiles with such passion in his eyes, Stiles almost gasped with the emotion behind it. “Derek��” 

“I talked to your dad. I mean, I talk to your dad often, but I-- I asked him when I could propose to you. He suggested - well, more like threatened me within an inch of my life - to wait until after graduation or at least until after you turned 18.” He pulled out a bright red box from his pocket and opened it slowly, revealing the most stunning ring Stiles had ever seen. There were two black bands surrounding a dark wooden center and the style of it matched both of them perfectly. 

“You’re serious?” Stiles asked from where he sat unmoving on the hood of the jeep. He was torn between launching at Derek and kissing the life out of him and staying frozen in place until he was sure Derek wasn’t playing a disastrously unfunny joke on him. 

“I had this whole plan to do up the loft with these fancy lights and bouquets of roses or some other romantic flower and have soft country music in the background--” 

“You hate country music,” Stiles interrupted. Derek beamed at him. 

“I do. But you love it, right?” Derek pointed out and Stiles could only nod. “We know each other, Stiles, and I knew that you wouldn’t want some ridiculously cheesy proposal that probably would’ve been destroyed by something with our luck.” Stiles let out a surprising laugh that brought him out of his shocked stupor. 

“And what did you decide on instead?” Stiles asked slowly, sliding off of the jeep so he stood in front of Derek, resting a hand on his shoulder to urge him to continue only so Stiles could say yes. 

“Well, I went to Scott’s, thinking you would be there and he said you had left about an hour ago. Then I went to your dad’s and he talked me out of panic after he got over blubbering about you graduating and then said that you hadn’t come home. I knew you had to be here,” Derek explained. Stiles saw his fingers trembling and it was so out of the ordinary, he wasn’t sure what to say. “I wasn’t going to do this here, at a place where more bad things happened than good, but--” 

“It makes sense for us,” Stiles chimed in again, glancing over Derek’s head to stare at the broken sign he would never have to see again if he didn’t want to. “Every place in this town is filled with horrible memories, Derek. I would literally bet you to find a place that one of us hasn’t gotten hurt or someone hasn’t died,” Stiles huffed out a laugh and gazed back down at Derek. “This makes sense because this is the best memory we could possibly make at the place where the worst possible things have happened.” Stiles took a deep breath in and pulled Derek to standing so they were eye to eye and he could see the happiness on Stiles’ face. “Ask me, Derek,” he demanded. 

Derek let out a choked laugh that Stiles thought held unshed tears and whispered, “Will you marry me, Stiles? Make me the happiest man in Beacon Hills?” 

“Before I say yes, I’m gonna make fun of you for being such a hopeless romantic for the rest of our lives, you know that right?” Derek rolled his eyes and playfully smacked Stiles’ cheek before the gravity of Stiles’ words seemed to register in his brain. 

“But there’s a yes in there?” Derek asked, his smile breaking through any annoyance he might have felt for Stiles as it usually did. 

“There’s an emphatic yes in there, you idiot,” Stiles said and before he could speak any more, he surged into Derek’s arms and captured Derek’s lips in his. They had kissed hundreds of times before and each one had his heart stuttering more than the last but Stiles wasn’t sure if any would ever top that one. When they finally pulled away to breathe, Derek grabbed Stiles’ hand and slid the ring onto his finger. Stiles held his hand out to take it all in and felt his own tears spring into his eyes. 

“Now who’s the hopeless romantic?” Derek asked, wiping the one stray tear that escaped from Stiles’ cheek. Stiles shoved at his shoulder but grabbed his jacket to pull him closer before he could stray too far. 

“Still you, buddy, because I bet if we go to your loft to secure this engagement, there’s gonna be lights and roses decorating the entire place.” Derek flushed and stared up at the sky for a moment before leveling his eyes with Stiles’. 

“And how do you know that, Stiles?” Derek asked, holding Stiles delicately in his arms as if afraid the moment would be broken if they weren’t attached. 

“Because I know you, Derek, and I love you.” The words were far too simple, but Stiles didn’t know what else to say. Derek was right; they knew each other and loved each other more than Stiles had ever imagined. He glanced up at the school that had haunted him and for the first time in four years, he smiled. 

[statticscribbles]

Reset

Summary: Sweet Pea/Reader Request: reader was sexually assaulted by a friend of hers, & she distances herself from the friends, because they tell her that she’s lying & she opens up to sweet pea, maybe he comforts her? I just could use some comfort even in the form of sweet pea TW: Sexual Assault, Gaslighting, Verbal Abuse, Abusive Relationships/Friendships -Thoughts-  ~flashback~

You’re not sure what you were expecting when you’d gathered your friends at your usual hang out spot. You no longer shook at his presence but you weren’t expecting him to show up. Still you’d told them you had something important to say; with him there, his hand around your best friends waist had you shutting down. “Y/N, come onnnnnn you drag us all out here in the middle of the night for what? Is it about what happened at that party again? You know  Lance didn’t actually do anything, it was a dream is all.” -They were friends with him first, why would they believe you. Of course you were lying.- “I’m moving.” You shrug a little; not surprised when their faces don’t crumble. You’d barely been spending time with them after the party, after the incident as they’d called it. “When?” Lance tilts his head leering at you as he always seems to do now. “Three days.” “Where?” You shake your head.

“Close by apparently, job transfers and all.” You nod, they understand two of then had moved to the other side of town because of their parents getting job transfers. –Might as well lie about this, they think you’re lying about everything- Your parents hadn’t had any problem buying the trailer for you. They seemed relieved, being able to send you out of town to get away from your nightmares, your whining, -your lies- You’d discussed it with them, and they’d given you an ultimatum when you’d come home.

~~~You’re trying to sneak through your back window, of course your parents are awake, and of course Lance had called them saying how drunk you were, how high you’d gotten at the party. They don’t bother asking what happened, launching into a tirade about how irresponsible you are, how childish and immature. How you’re destroying any chance of a future for yourself. Your father spouts off about expecting you to end up knocked up from one of ‘these parties’. Your mother take a gentler approach compared to him. “How about this, there’s a nice covenant in Riverdale and-“ “I’ll go, but not to the sisters.” Your mother’s surprised at your agreement, your father beams. “We can get you one of those trailers, in that trailer park, we’ll pay for it, just keep your grades up. Three days to pack what you want.” He leaves after that, your mother does as well, you can hear them moving in their room and as you walk upstairs, head swimming and heart racing you catch yourself in the mirror. –Doesn’t even look like anything happened, just that you fell, you really did just get drunk and dreamed the whole thing up- You wake up the next morning, looking back in the mirror, you can’t help but cry, you’re shaking and dry heaving occasionally looking back into the mirror to catalogue the bruises and imprints he left against your skin. You decide about telling your friend, grabbing your first box and starting to pack your books.~~~

It’d taken you four days to move everything over and settle yourself in the trailer your parents had gotten; it’s in the back of the lot, barely still in the trailer park. You avoid any of your neighbors, trying your best to not panic as you make your way towards Riverdale High. You’re keeping your eyes on the floor. –They’re looking at you cause they know what you’ve done. You’re that liar that got thrown out from Centerville.- You cringe at your internal monologue, trying your best to shake it off, freezing when you crash into someone. “ You okay?” You look up, brushing yourself off and nodding, not looking at whomever you bummed into. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s no problem, where are you trying to find?” You look up into the boy’s face, hoping you’re not blushing, or if you are you can brush it off as the embarrassment from the fall. “Math, with-“ His hand nudges the schedule and you offer it to him. “Huh, you have almost all your classes with me, I can walk you to most of them, the only class you don’t have is science, but you have that with Fangs so-“ “Fangs?” You question and he beams. “My friend Fangs, I’m Sweet Pea, you are?” He holds his hand you for you to shake, handing you back your schedule. “Y/N.” “Did you just move here?”

“Yes, from Centerville.” “Centerville, Jesus, you glad you got out?” He whistles slightly and you sag in relief. “Yes, it was awful.” You relax, comforted by his similar reaction. “I can’t imagine, actually I don’t want to. Is it true that half of the main school have been in the corrections center?” “No, that would mean they got caught.” You offer a wry smile and Sweet Pea smiles back. “Well then, let’s hope none of them follow you here.” You laugh nervously nodding.

You’re thankful that Sweet Pea seems to keep you in his sights. It not hard considering you share all your classes so far. “So we can eat lunch with my friends if you want?” “Sure, sounds good.” –Don’t freak out. They’re not like yours were.- You follow Sweet Pea outside, toward a table with a group of guys in black leather; they’re joined by another group. You watch as they turn nodding to Sweet Pea. “Alright introductions then, everyone, this is Y/N. She moved from Centerville a few days ago.” You wave and the entire group at you.

“This is Toni and Cheryl, Cheryl’s Captain of the River Vixen’s, which feature, Veronica, Josie, and Betty; Betty’s dating Jughead, who’s leader of the Serpents, which includes Toni, Fangs, and me.” He gestures to each person as he names them. You wave to each of them and they wave back. “Is it a dumb question to ask what the Serpent’s are?” You’d heard whispers of them in Centerville but the rumors varied from an after school club to a prison run gang. “We’re a gang.” Fangs states and you nod, relieved at the open answer.

Sweet Pea had been the one to invite you to his trailer, you were nervous, but followed him in surprised when no one else was in. “You live alone?” “Yeah, it’s just easier, my parent’s have their own place I just wanted to stay.” He nods to the couch and you sit down watching him as he moves around his home. “Out of curiosity why did you move here of all places? Can’t have been for the ‘pep’ can it?” –Lie- “I uh, my parents were going to send me to the Sisters and-“You cringe at his frown. “Why?” -Lie to him. Lie to him.- “They thought it would be better for me.” –They didn’t want to deal with you; they were tired of the lies. Like your friends, like Sweet Pea will become.-

“Better how? Or is that one of those, not allowed to talk about it.” You shrug. “I just; I made some bad choices, got on the wrong track.” He drops the thread of the conversation instead asking how you’re finding Riverdale and how you feel about living in Sunnyside. He talks about himself telling you about chaining himself to his old school, and protesting about Riverdale trying to get rid of the Serpents.

It’s not long before Cheryl decides to throw a party for some reason or other, everyone is excited and you hope the terror you feel can be interpreted as the same. You arrive with the Serpent’s, specifically Sweet Pea, he’d insisted it was easier for everyone to carpool, and he had an extra helmet for his bike so it wouldn’t be a problem for you to ride with him. “Come on Y/N Cheryl’s parties get crazy it’ll be-“ Whatever he’s saying fades out, as you step forward.

~~~ “Seriously Y/N, it’ll be fine! No one will care you weren’t invited. Seriously just come in and have some fun!!” You offer a strained smile as you follow your friends stepping through the door to hear music blasting. You’re moving around the main room, cringing at the sound, you can’t hear your own thoughts, let alone anyone saying anything so when Lance appears holding out drinks for everyone, you think nothing of taking it. Everyone else is drinking why shouldn’t you.~~~

Sweet Pea holds something out to you and you recognize it as a water bottle. –Don’t take drinks from anyone, always watch your drink- You hesitate, but take it anyways, surprised when it’s sealed as you open it. “Come on everyone’s this way.” Sweet Pea herds you further in and you wait for his hand you touch your shoulder, to steer you where he wants you. –Upstairs to the bedrooms, god knows this place must have extra rooms no one will check in- He walks with you, hand hovering behind your back as you turn past the stairs and back through the kitchen to the backyard. You stare fearfully at the pool for a moment, stepping back, bumping into Sweet Pea’s arm.

“You okay?” –Lie.- “Fine.” You take a swig from the water bottle and notice how everyone’s gathered in a circle eating pizza. “Hey you two made it! Sorry about the secrecy Y/N, we usually do an inner circle party once a month!” Cheryl nods to you and you tilt your head. “Inner circle?”

“Yeah we’re all really close, we went through a lot together, you’re part of that now.” -They know, they know, they know.- “So, as usual Sins and Secrets time!! It’ll be interesting now since we have Y/N to confess to, and we get to hear her deepest secrets.” Toni laughs as Fangs explains the rules; Sweet Pea sits next to you. “Cheryl can go first to show you. Since it’s her party.” Toni nods. “I slapped Jughead when I thought his dad killed my brother.” You turn to the rest of them and they shrug. “That’s not that dark Cheryl..”

“I don’t want to scare her off. Come on Y/N confess.” –Lie, Lie Lie, if you tell the truth they’ll never talk to you again. You don’t have anywhere left to run, lie, lie lie.- “ I uh, I moved from Centerville because- I just-“ You swallow; you don’t realize someone’s arm is around you until they’ll pulling you closer. “Hey it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” You shake your head. “No you guys should know I’m a liar, get over with the realization you don’t want to be friends with me.” You swallow, shaking still as you look around at everyone.

“I left Centerville cause I lied about a lot of stuff, happening to me.” You can see Cheryl frowning, as do Veronica and Betty. “You lied about being sexually assaulted?” they guess and you nod, still shaking. “Why would you lie about that?” They sound upset, angry even. –You did it now, they’re going to hate you, might as well spill all of it.- “Well I mean we were dating so it’s not like it counted cause we were dating and even then I didn’t say no or anything I didn’t even try to leave.” –You tried to run he just was too fast, he didn’t want you to move, he gave you too much to drink, it wasn’t drugs they flushed out of your system too fast to be tested anyways.- “My, his friends agreed with him, it makes sense, I was just wanting attention cause he broke up with me, it wasn’t anything serious either way we just-“ You fade off watching everyone staring at you.

“Sorry, I just, I can leave it’s no problem for me to-“ “Fucking hell I can see why you left Centerville, full of rapists and people who look the other way.” You freeze. “What?” –No you’re supposed to hate me, I lied, I lied.- “That must have been horrible, I’m so sorry that happened to you.” “No, but it didn’t like everyone said I was just making it up, it wasn’t real so-“ –They’re angry for you. They want to hurt him as much as you do.- You quiet as they all seem to crowd you in comfort, Betty and Cheryl taking your hands and Toni awkwardly hugging you as Veronica nudges Sweet Pea away, you turn gripping for what you now know was his arm.

You’re not one hundred percent sure what the look they share is, but it flashes across all their faces and Sweet Pea offers to take you home moments later, you nervously grab a slice of pizza eating it as he leads you back out of the house and to his bike. “Hey, listen Y/N, I’m sorry all that happened to you.” You shrug. “I’m sure there’s been worse.” Sweet Pea sighs kicking the ground. “Just because there’s been worse doesn’t make what you went through okay.” You nod to him and he pulls you into a hug as he holds the helmet out to you.

You swing your leg over getting off as he pulls up to his trailer. “Sweet Pea, I, I didn’t tell them everything.” “Hey it’s okay, you don’t have to. It’s your choice to talk about it. “I, can I tell you?” He nods opening his door and sighing as you sit on the couch. He sits next you and you burrow under the blanket and into his side. He chuckles slightly and you smile up at him. “I’m here, you can tell me whatever you want.” You nod closing your eyes.

~Lance had brought you upstairs before leaving you to sit in the room for what felt like hours. You’d been confused, sluggish to respond when you’d felt the zip tie sliding against your wrist. “So you don’t run off and say anything.” His voice is distorted and you sit, sliding against the side of the bed trying to snap the tie off the post. You manage to dig it into your skin enough where you know it’ll leave a scar. Your knees are also bruised a product of trying to pull yourself free, using your own body as a counter weight. Lance returns laughing at you. His voice is echoing and you don’t realize its because he’s not alone. When he shoves you, jerking the tie back against your wrist and almost throwing you onto the bed is when you fall back into unconsciousness, whatever sedative combining with the drinks to knock you out.~

“What’s his last name?” Sweet Pea growls out and you shake your head. “Sweet Pea, please don’t he’ll know it was me.” “He’s going to need to answer for that, one way or the other. Serpent’s protect their own.” “That extends to friends?” You ask surprised, unsure how the Serpent’s manage to protect so many people. “Relationships.” “We’re not in a relationship.” You state confused when Sweet Pea seems shocked. “Sorry right, still, he’s going to pay for that.” “There’s more.” You reach for the water bottle on the table and Sweet Pea pulls it to you, you place it back on the table after drinking from it, shifting away from him slightly. “Y/N, come back, you don’t need to move away from me; I don’t think less of you.” You sigh shakily.

“You don’t need to tell me right now, take a break sweetheart, come here, come here.” He slowly reaches for you and you fold into his arms, as he tucks the blanket around both of you, you curl into him shaking as you sob. “They thought I was lying, they said they knew him best, they said-“ “Shhh, shhh love, it’s alright, it’s over, it’s over. You’re safe now.” You don’t bother nodding just sighing and laying your head on his chest. “Thank you.” You say as you start to drift off.

When you wake up you haven’t moved. Sweet Pea hasn’t either and you watch him for a moment trying his best to stretch his arm to grab at his phone, you reason his other hand would be far closer but it’s currently wrapped around you, you nudge him with your forehead and he turns. “You can move your arm, if you want.” “No.” He states and you frown. “It’s literally easier for you to do it with this arm, just move it.” You tug at the arm wrapped around you and he just tightens his grip.

“Just let got of me and I’ll grab it for you if you want.” Sweet Pea shakes his head pulling you back to his chest as you half struggle to get up. This causes you both to tip off the couch, you’re waiting for your head to smack against the floor but you open your eyes to see Sweet Pea smirking at you, your head cushioned by his arm. ‘See that’s why I didn’t want to move it.” “So it could get crushed by my head?” “No so it could protect you.” “Oh that’s dumb. I’m not-“ You close your mouth as he glares.

“If you say you’re not worth protecting I’m never letting you go.” “I’m not worth protecting.” You smile shyly, face flushed. “Was that serious or do you just want to mess with me?” “It’s semi-serious.” You counter and Sweet Pea shakes his head moving back to the couch nodding at you to do the same. “Semi-serious meaning.” “I’d very much like you to not let me go, but that’s just my preference.” Sweet Pea nods thoughtfully. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” “Pop’s, it’s good one of our preference’s lined up, but now we have to see if others do.” “Pop’s the diner right?” He nods and you swing your leg over on his bike. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to judge me on my order.” “No just pay for it.” He shouts of the roar of his engine.

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[themadlostgirl]

Abandoned (3)

*Finals are almost over! That has nothing to do with this chapter I’m just happy.*

~~~

It had been several days since Pan had left me with that sack of food and the news that my father had traded me away for freedom. I refused to believe it though. It was a lie. It was a lie to get me to stop believing in papa.

The music from Pan’s pipes could take my memories but that didn’t mean I was going to let them go without a fight. I wrote down everything I could remember. I sang shanties every night over the sound of Pan’s music. Tonight was no different. What I sang wasn’t a shanty though. It was something much softer.

“My young love said to me, "My mother won't mind, and my father won't slight you for your lack of kind." And she stepped away from me, and this she did say,” I struggled with the next line, it was right there on the tip of my tongue, “And this she did say...she did say…”

“Ugh!” I flopped back against the sand, “What did she say?”

Papa sang this to me every night when I was little. Or was it every time I had a nightmare? Everything is getting so hard to remember. Did papa sing it to me at all or was it a song one of the others on the ship sang? Or maybe it was a song I had heard at a festival or maybe a tavern?

It feels useless. I can’t even remember the next line of a song!

I pulled the pocketwatch from my pocket and stared at the unmoving hands. Pan’s unwanted words started to echo in my head.

You really do not want to face the truth do you?

No.

You wanna know how I know that he isn’t coming back for you? How I know he abandoned you here?

It’s another lie. Another trick.

He left because I told him to.

Papa wouldn’t abandon me. Papa wouldn’t trade me away!

Adults are so disappointing, especially parents. Selfish enough to sell their own children off to make their lives easier.

“Papa, please,” I whispered to the night air, “Please come back. I know you didn’t leave me here on purpose. You’re gonna come back but it needs to be soon. Please papa...I miss you.”

A soft melody broke through my quiet sobs. I turned around and stared into the jungle. I could practically see the notes floating out from the darkness and wrapping around me. I stood to my feet. Letting the music take me closer to the jungle’s edge.

I followed the song into the jungle. It was trance like but not in the way it had been before. I was more conscious of what I was doing. Choosing to follow it instead of letting myself slip completely under its spell.

After a while I could make out the glow of the bonfire in the distance. The music was coming from the camp as I knew it would be. I could just walk in. Pan had said that I would be welcome. I could join the boys dancing around the fire. I could sit and listen to their stories. We could play games. We could have fun. We could be a family…

Family.

I don’t remember much about about my family. I do remember one thing though. Papa taking me above deck the day after mama died. We stood before the crew and he said that though one of us had fallen it did not mean we were alone. We were a family by more than just blood. We were a family by choice. That was a bond stronger than blood.

Where was that bond now? Where was my family now?

The warmth drained out of me all at once and I stepped away from the camp. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from here!

I started running back through the darkness to get to my camp. I caught a movement out of place among the shadows and stumbled to a stop. There, calmly sitting under a tree and illuminated by a beam of moonlight was Pan. His eyes closed. Was he asleep? Why so far from camp? Why was he out here by himself? He had just been at the camp, hadn’t he?

This was my chance! I crept closer keeping as quiet as I could as I came up behind him. He did not stir. His even measured breaths assuring me he was fast asleep. The music ended tonight. Keeping my grip tight I knocked him on the head as hard as I could with the hilt of my sword. Papa or maybe it was mama always did that to knock people out when they were down.

I kicked him lightly with my foot to make sure he was really out of it then went about looking for his pipes or anything else useful. There was nothing. No pipes. No beans. Not even lint in his pocket!

Fine. If I can’t get rid of the music I can at least get rid of him! I grabbed his arms and started dragging him back to my camp. I silently prayed that he’d stay unconscious long enough for me to get him back which by some miracle he did. I grabbed a length of rope and tied his hands behind his back and bound his legs together. I also wrapped a scarf around his mouth for some personal satisfaction. No big words were coming out of his mouth now.

After I was sure he was secure I hauled him into the rowboat and took either oar in hand. My single person rowing was not the best and the added weight didn’t make it any easier but I had already come too far. I rowed us out until we were in deeper waters. Being out here at night with the mermaids wasn’t the smartest decision I had ever made but I wasn’t in the mood for making smart decisions.

I sat there in the rocking boat staring at the unconscious demon across from me. The moon was bright and full casting everything in pale light. I could make out mermaids bobbing in and out of the water closer to shore. They didn’t seem to be moving any closer. Perhaps they were waiting to see what would happen. So was I.

What was I supposed to do now? Killing him would be the obvious thing to do after all the grief he has put me through. Running him through while he was still unconscious wasn’t right though. Bad form. He deserved to look his death in the eye.

I cupped some water and tossed it in his face to wake him up. He groaned as his eyes cracked open. Then they widened some more as his situation became more clear. He pulled at the ropes binding him but to no avail. He glared at me and tried to talk around his gag.

“Sorry? Have something to say?” I asked, enjoying the irritation on his face.

He continued to grumble until I decided to let him have some final words. I pulled the gag down out of his mouth.

“Why thank you,” He rolled his eyes, “I haven’t been bound and gagged in so long. What’s the occasion?”

“To victory.”

“Mine or yours.” He quirked an eyebrow up at me.

“Isn’t it obvious,” I gestured to the situation, “Out of the two of us which one isn’t being held prisoner?”

“Prisoner? Is that what you think of me, swordfish? I thought this was a bit of fun between friends.”

“We’re not friends. We never have been and we never will be.”

“Never is an awfully long time. You sure you can resist me for that long? I am a lot of fun when you get to know me.”

“I think I know you well enough. Also, I won’t have to resist much longer since I can kill you at any moment. The mermaids are wading nearby and I’m sure they’d love a late night snack.”

“You brought chum for them? That’s awfully sweet for a hoard of bloodthirsty half-fish.”

“Will you stop.” I pointed my dagger at him, “Stop acting like you don’t care. I understand wanting to go to your death with dignity but you can’t be so flippant about it. Look at the situation. This is where you will die. Don’t you care?”

“Oh no, I do care. I care very much and I am impressed by this whole scene you’ve created. Job well done. I’d clap if my hands weren’t tied behind my back.”

“You are really just an ass, aren’t you?”

“Part of my charm.” he winked at me, “Please, proceed, I wanna hear where you’re gonna take this next.”

“I said to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Denying your situation. This cannot be having no impact on you.” I grabbed him by the collar, “So stop making fun of me!”

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

“Tied up and at my mercy?”

“Obviously. Did you really think it would have been this easy? To sneak up on me and subdue me so easily? To drag me out here without any of my boys noticing?”

“You’re saying that you let me kidnap you?”

“How else would we have gotten here?”

“No. No! I beat you! You’re just trying to turn the situation around so it looks like you have the upperhand when you know I have you cornered! I beat you!”

“Of course you did. You beat me entirely. Here I am, tied up and at your complete mercy. There’s no conceivable way this could be in my favor.”

“Then why are you talking like it is?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“Pan!”

“Let’s look at the facts here, spitfire. You snuck up on me, knocked me unconscious, dragged my limp unconscious body through the jungle back to your camp, tied me up, put me in a boat, rowed me out into the middle of the ocean, and then woke me up to lord your victory over me.”

“And?”

“Do you not see the game you’re playing. I told you once before you don’t want to kill me and here is the proof.”

“All I have to do is stab you through the heart.”

“Yes. So why haven’t you done it yet?”

The realization rocked through me like a tidal wave.

“You had multiple opportunities to. You could have run me through back in the jungle. But then you dragged me through the jungle. You could have killed me when we got back to your camp. You could have thrown me over the side of the boat to drown after you hauled me all tied up in here. You could stab me any moment you choose but still your blade stays holstered. Why do you think that is? You’re bored, swordfish. You are so utterly bored and this game between us is the only thing keeping you from hurling yourself off Dead Man’s Peak. We both know it. You won’t kill me because I am the most fun you’ve had in years! You may not like it but the truth can be hard to swallow.”

I grabbed my dagger and poised it over his heart. “I am going to kill you. I am going to stab this blade through your heart and watch the life drain out of your eyes!”

“Do it then!” He shouted, “Do it! Kill me!”

“I will!” My grip on the handle tightened.

“Come on, do it.” He urged, “Do it! Do it!”

“I--I--” My hand started to shake. “AH!” I stabbed the blade into the wood of the boat.

I couldn’t do it. Why couldn’t I do it?

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, precious.” I felt a hand run through my hair. The ropes binding Pan had fallen away and he had inched forward to pet my head. “It was a good effort. You certainly kept me on my toes and I can say that this has been the most fun I’ve had in ages. But really, do not worry about not being able to kill me. It’s a big thing taking someone’s life, especially for the first time. Although, I would have been very happy to be your first victim if you had the courage to go through with it.”

“Don’t patronize me.” I slapped his hand away. “You could get out the entire time. Why didn’t you?”

“Because I was having fun. Have you not listened to a word I’ve said?”

“What kind of pirate am I that I can’t kill the one person who has given me the most grief?”

“You’re not a pirate, Lady Jones. You’re a Lost Girl.” He held out a hand, “And I am not the one who has caused you your greatest grief. We both know who is really to blame for that.”

I stared at the hand stretched out towards me. A ball of emotion caught in my throat. “He really left me...didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

I took a deep breath and pulled the pocketwatch papa had gifted me so long ago. I opened it up and stared at the inscription. Those unwilling to fight for what they want deserve what they get. “So much of a fight you put up for me.”

I snapped it closed and threw it into the ocean as far as I could.

“I’ll row us back to shore, shall I?” Pan said after a long lapse of silence.

I sat back down staring numbly at my toes as Pan rowed us back to shore. Not a word was uttered. When we got back to shore I sat down at my camp. The only place I felt safe for I don’t even remember how long anymore. It didn’t bring me any calm this time though. All around were reminders. Mementos of a life I was forced out of by the one person I trusted most.

“Precious,” Pan knelt next to me, “You don’t have to stay out here alone anymore. Come back to camp with me.”

I turned to look at him and saw the way he almost flinched when he stared into my eyes. “If it’s all the same to you, I would much rather be alone right now.”

“Of course…” He stood up again, “You know where to go if you change your mind.”

It felt like there was something more he wanted to say but he kept it to himself. I waited until long after he left before any composure I had left me and I sunk into the sand huddling in on myself. Short muffled sobs escaping me as the last dregs of my hope were drowned.

Papa wasn’t coming back for me.

---

(Previous) (Next)

[redqueen-hypothesis]

heartsick ➳ lucien (mlqc)

➳ PAIRING: reader x lucien xu (mlqc)

➳ WORD COUNT: 1706

➳ GENRE: fluff, soft angst

➳ SYNOPSIS: lucien hasn’t been home for a week and you miss him.

It feels like forever since you’ve last seen him.

You consider whether the behavior you’ve adopted has started to toe the line between concerned and downright stalkerish as you find yourself outside your neighbor's door for the third time this week, nervously pacing about the hallway. Then, gathering up your courage, you raise your hand to the door and knock three times.

No reply.

“Is he out again?” You mutter to yourself, confused. This is an entire week he hasn’t been back to his apartment (unless he’s been slinking back and forth the building like a cat burglar in the middle of the night), and you’re honestly starting to get worried about him.

You’ve given up staying awake at night trying to figure if he’s just returning in the ungodly hours of twilight when you’re awake, reminiscing the one time you had tried to play detective with the man and ended up with an upturned sleep cycle for three nights after.

Your handsome neighbor, resident neuro-scientist, the tender helping hand that is always extended to you... you wonder if Lucien is doing okay.

Of course, he had told you that he would be very busy with a new breakthrough in a research project he’d been invested in for a long time, and that he would probably stay over at his research center to focus on his work, but still, it had been a week. Apart from the occasional call and text, you haven’t seen hide nor hair of him... and you’re worried.

Has he been sleeping enough? Has he been eating well? Has he been taking care of himself? Knowing the silly scientist, he probably hasn’t in the least, you think fondly.

With a sigh, you pull your hand away from the door, with no little measure of reluctance. Well, as much as you worry and miss him, you still can’t bring yourself to disturb his work at the research center - surely, he must be buried under a mountain of tasks already, and you have no wish to burden him with your concern.

Looking down at the still warm taiyaki in their paper bags (you had bought them on a whim on your way back from work, hoping that tonight you might finally run into him), you resign yourself to finishing them all on your own and turn around, intending to head back to your own apartment when you bump into someone hard.

With a yelp, you lose your balance, arms flailing and your mind going blank for a second. In that one second, however, a strong but gentle grip wraps around your wrist, pulling you against a firm chest and your nose is immediately flooded by the scent of warm, clean fabric softener.

Gasping in surprise, your face remains pressed against the person who’d caught you, hands steadying you by the arms. Then you feel it, a warm chuckle that you feel vibrating against your cheek, reminiscent of a cat’s purr, and you look up into tender violet eyes with a playfully teasing edge to them.

“Lucien!”

“That’s my name,” he says, unrelentingly holding you close, infallible smile still positioned perfectly in place. He doesn’t look like he has any intentions to move any time soon, completely comfortable right where he is. “And what might you be doing outside my door at this time of the night? Surely you didn’t lose the way to your own unit?”

You stutter, still trying to gather the scattered pieces of your mind that seem to be evading you at the sight of that familiar, gentle smile you’ve missed so much. Act dumb, you find your mind howling at you, and words tumble from your mouth before you can so much as run them past a mental filter.

“I was... feeling unwell! I wanted to see if you were home to give me any advice, that’s all!”

Not that dumb... your rational thought sobs in despair. Lucien’s eyes widen imperceptibly, before they curve beautifully in a smile, like a pair of crescent moons. “Feeling unwell?” He repeats, a distinctively sly note in his voice. One of his hands reaches up to press against your forehead, and you instantly feel heat rushing to your cheeks at the warm touch of his skin on yours. “You do seem like you might be running a hint of a temperature.”

This is all your fault, you want to scream, but end up nodding mutely, unable to say anything without outright exposing your own lie. At your response, Lucien’s smile deepens, and he pulls you closer into his embrace. “Since I don’t have a thermometer, this will have to do.”

Before you can react, Lucien leans down, and then all you see are his eyelashes fluttering along his cheeks, the weight of his forehead pressing against yours, so close, too close!

He barely has time to hum, “hmm, you do feel a little warm-” before you’re springing backwards, mind screaming in several different languages and wondering why you haven’t spontaneously combusted into flames and fireworks yet.

“Professor Lucien!” is all your traitorous mouth allows you to utter in protest, but Lucien’s amused chuckle has you going weak at the knees, warmth blooming in your chest. Stepping forward, as if unwilling to let you wander too far from him, the professor angles your head up with his fingers to look deep into your eyes, smile easy and clearly enjoying himself.

“Your cheeks are flushed. Your pupils are dilated.” He murmurs, the soft lilt of a butterfly’s wings, warm breath ghosting over your ear. “Any more symptoms you have to report to me before I diagnose you, my dear?”

Your head is spinning at his proximity and you feel far too warm on what’s supposed to be a chilly night, but you still manage to croak out something. “Well... it hurts here.” You point at your chest, right over where your heart thumps a ragged beat against your rib cage, your stomach seemingly filled with a million butterflies. “It’s been hurting for a while now.”

At that, Lucien’s eyes widen ever so slightly with a hint of concern, the smile on his face slipping into something more akin to worry. “Your chest? Where does it hurt? How long has it been hurting? Does it fluctuate?”

“Well...” You roll the word on your tongue for a moment, pondering this question thoughtfully. “More specifically, my heart is the one that hurts. It’s like a throbbing ache that keeps lingering and I can’t get rid of it, and it only started about last week. As for fluctuations...” you look back into his gentle gaze, “it's stopped for now.”

Lucien takes a moment to process what you’ve just said before an impossibly tender look comes over his face, as if he sees the entirety of everything precious to him lying in your eyes. With a soft, amused huff, he raises a hand to the back of your head, tucking you against his chest more securely, folding you so tight in his arms you feel like he won’t ever let go.

“Silly girl...” He murmurs into your hair, so gentle and familiar that it nearly brings tears to your eyes. “You don’t need to worry about me, really...”

“That’s not up to you. I missed you.” You finally say the three words you’ve been repeating non stop for the last few lonely days to yourself. The second they leave your lips, it’s as if a suffocating weight has been lifted off your chest. “I missed you so much, Lucien.”

“I made you worry, didn’t I?” There’s a trace of fond self deprecation in his voice as he strokes your hair gently. You nod vigorously, unable to say a word, afraid that your voice might crack. Why are you getting so choked up? “Did you have those nightmares again?”

You nod again, weaker this time. So many times has the same dream repeated itself again and again that it lingers in your mind like an illness that refuses to be cured, poison ivy rooted in your heart. “You were walking down a long, dark hallway, an endless one. I kept chasing after you, but you kept walking even though I called your name so many times, and in the end I lost sight of you. There were times...” you swallow the painful lump that seems to have formed in your throat, watching Lucien’s gentle eyes fixated on you and you alone, “that I knocked on your door, only to get no reply and I thought... that you might never come back.”

Lucien gently swipes away the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes with the pad of his thumb, gaze soft. “Crybaby. Why didn’t you call me? I would have listened, no matter how late or how silly the dream.”

You sniff, rubbing at your own eyes. “I didn’t want to bother you when you were so busy.” When had the tears started to fall? “I wanted you to concentrate on your work so you’d come back to me faster.”

“Silly girl.” He repeats again, bopping you on the nose so affectionately you could cry all over again. “Call me when you want to. Come see me when you want to. You can do whatever you want. Ask me anything, and I’ll give it to you.”

You nod again, wiping the tears from your eyes. The man in front of you, so gentle and tender, would never leave you behind. A warmth, so deep that it nearly burns and consumes you like a white hot flame nestles in your chest, inexorably light. “I want to... eat taiyaki together with you.”

Lucien beams at your request and takes the bag from your hands. “We can do that.”

A few minutes later, your head is resting on Lucien’s shoulder and your feet tucked under a soft woolen blanket as the two of you watch the screening of yet another classic movie, him blowing on your piping hot taiyaki before he feeds you bite sized pieces. And as you fall asleep like that, to the sound of his heartbeat and the tender security of his arms around you, you smile, in the certainty that all those nightmares can’t be anything more than dreams.

[willowaudreykeyes]

Prompt: myths and chaos with Logan with the line “so apparently microwaving this ancient manuscript isn’t a good way to find out its secrets.”

Remus’ Puzzle Temple Of Friendship And Chaos

Warnings: Baby eldritch thing, tentacles, one eye, vague sexual reference that’s from a song

Platonic Logince, brotherly-and-on-good-terms Creativitwins and Intrulogical of whatever relationship interpretation that you want.

------------------------------------------------------

Roman

“Remind me to thank your brother at dinner tonight.”

“That’s if we make it to dinner. And you all call me extra; he made an entire temple for us to explore within a week!” He spent a lot of energy on it too. I still remember the shaky finger he pointed at me after the second day of working on this Incan-like temple; slurring tiredly about not going into the space between our Kingdoms and ruining the surprise. He also forced me to carry him to his room as he dangerously swayed on his feet. I’ll have to thank him by working just as hard for his and Logan’s adventure after the two of us finish this one.

“I know; yet I’ve yet to thank him for doing so. And I must ask how long it took to make this language.” Taking my first glance at said language, I recognise it immediately as the first language that Remus and I had known. We had known it better than English at one point, until Patton insisted that we make English our main language so that we wouldn’t confuse Thomas. 

“Oh, we’ve always known it. We used to speak it in front of Patton as kids to confuse him and we still use it occasionally whenever we send a letter, or in his case a slab of mysterious leather, between our Kingdoms.”

“So you can translate this?”

“Of course!” I hold the slightly chipped black and red tablet out at arms length, quickly noticing that everything on the tablet makes no sense. No wonder he was so tired after every day in the Imagination; he even made us a puzzle. “It’s encrypted though, so we have to figure out what the cypher is first. And knowing Remus, it could be anything.”

He takes it from my hands and adjusts his glasses for the fiftieth time today before tapping his chin. I doubt Logan realises that he has so many visual tells when he becomes passionate and interested. “He would leave a clue somewhere where we could find it. He’s chaotic, not unfair.”

“Aha!” In a spark of inspiration, I rough up my hair and gain a huff of defeat from the neighbourhood nerd as I do the same to his own. It had dust from the temple in it anyway. “We just have to think like Remus! Now what’s the most logical place to put a cypher for this thing?”

“Where we found it.”

“Okay. Now what’s the opposite of that?”

His eyebrows do that cute thing where they pinch down a bit when he’s confused. I don’t bother hiding my smile as his eyes shift around, taking in invisible words as he tries to find my line of thinking. “I’m… not following. The opposite of where we found it is every room that we didn’t find it in, and we went through forty-three rooms and eight hallways; perhaps half or less of the entire temple judging by the size and spacing between each room.”

“And only twelve not-too-tough traps, which is less then his usual quota…” Probably because of the exhaustion, but I should have figured that out earlier. I’ll up the level of hazards in his next one as a double thank you for his hard work. “Anyway, we must think chaotically if we are to beat the chaotic one!”

With a silent nod, he attempts to fix his hair as I take in our camp and the temple before us. It’s very reminiscent of an Incan temple in design yet is mainly made out of pitch black obsidian; with intricate wall carvings engraved with pure ruby, emerald, moonstone and diamond; and a whole lot of animal and human skulls that are packed tightly into every ceiling. And I must say, adding the creatures from both of our Kingdoms as the wall carvings is a nice touch. 

Except I won’t say it out loud because the majority of them are of naked people, naked cannibals and of naked murders. 

At least our camp has some more class to it! Logan wished for something realistic, but was soon swayed by my enchanted Harry Potter tent that’s magically large enough to have a working bathroom and still look like a ‘regular’ camping tent from the outside. I do like regular camping, but I prefer to have a shower after a tub of Thomas-knows-what is dropped over us and getting into every uncomfortable crevasse. Just thinking about that disgusting concoction makes me shudder.

“... Perhaps our microwave?”

I snap my gaze back to him, beaming at his rather shy sounding remark. He always sounds shy when he says something that deviates from his path of logic. At least he’s opening up a little more. “Perfect! I knew you’d think of something!”

“It was the first usable thing that I saw. Were you daydreaming again?”

“Nope- Using the microwave to solve a cypher sounds like something Remus’ mind would think up. He did mix sardines, lettuce and one of your ties in the blender before drinking it once.” I mumble the last half -I probably shouldn’t out Remus just yet for drinking Logan’s tie a few months ago- and put the tablet in the microwave and set it to three minutes. Three is the magic number after all.

“Did you say something?” 

“Mumbling ideas to myself is all!”

The microwave suddenly glows a bright purple and I manage to drag Logan in close before blocking something from hitting the both of us with my summoned shield. With a pop, crackle, fizz and several loud noises that sound like tearing metal; I risk peeking over it in perfect sync with Logan. The sight of three large tentacles wiggling out of the new holes in the camp's microwave brings out a sigh from me. A very loud sigh. Remus could probably hear it and currently giggling to himself from the comfort of his bedroom.

“It may be best not to touch those. Or the microwave.”

“But the tablet!” Logan pushes by my shield and barely escapes my reach before I am able to pull him away. With a straight posture and a quick slick back of his hair, he opens it and nearly jumps into my arms Scooby-Doo style from the loud pop that occurs. I’m in front of him again within a moment, but the usual feeling of hostility that Remus puts on his dangerous creatures as a warning is lacking. At least this thing won’t try and face-hug me like that faceless chicken that guarded the temple did.

Inside was a brown-black-blue ball of tentacles, with three longer than the others that retract out of the newly-made holes in the microwave. My heart stutters as a singular, goat-like, boysenberry coloured eye opens from one of the many seams in the creature; just to quickly dart it’s vision between the two of us before landing it’s creepy gaze on Logan. “Huh. So apparently, microwaving the ancient manuscript isn’t a good way to find it’s secrets- but a great way to hatch an eldritch abomination.”

“If you’d hand me a blanket, perhaps bringing it with us would be advantageous in future explorations.” Of course he wants to bring the nightmare creature; he always does. I hand him the nearby dish towel instead as I don’t feel like leaving this thing alone with Logan would end nicely.

“As long as you're carrying it.”

“Of course; you’re the one with the sword and shield.” I’m rather sure that that means that he would make me carry the disgusting creature if I wasn’t the one with our only ways of defending ourselves; and I don’t know if I should dramatically put my hand to my chest in horror or just pout.

I go for the pout.

Only for it to be rather rudely ignored as he cradles the little beast in its new home, wrapping it’s longer tentacles around Logan’s hands and attempting to remove his watch for a moment before I manage to grab it before they do. Logan’s too busy holding it in one hand and going through his cue cards to notice though. “And I shall name it as randomly as I can; since Remus seems to name all of his creations.” 

“Why?”

“It’s only polite to follow custom; and the custom for Remus is to name his creatures.” I hate everything about this -plus the tablet is just full on missing or destroyed now too- but Logan seems enraptured by the little thing. I roll my eyes and put on my backpack as Logan already begins walking up the temple steps. We just had lunch, so we have a chance of leaving before dinner, but I highly doubt it.

Despite not being able to see, the creature manages to grab out one of the cue cards from Logan’s hand before letting him snatch it back. With a quick smile after reading it, he pockets them all again before getting a better hold of the thing before it runs away and eats a whole deer or something. “It’s name shall be Anaconda-Do-Not.”

God-fucking-dammit Remus. I frown at the thing as we enter the fire-lit entrance, glad that its eye is hidden under the dish towel. Sheep eyes have always kind of creeped me out; especially on things that aren’t sheep. “You’re not allowed to hang out with Remus, Virgil or Janus anymore if they keep giving you those weirder cue cards.”

“This one’s from Remus. It’s a metaphor about-”

“I KNOW WHAT IT IS!” A light pain follows my facepalm, but I ignore it and march onwards. Hoping to get rid of this thing as quickly as possible. “Let’s just… go shove it into a keyhole or something already.”

------------------------------------------------------ 

By the way, I really hate that stupid Anaconda song and so I know that it’d be perfect for Remus. Hopefully the ending is alright because it was the only bit I really had issues with ^^’

Oh and Remus definitely fell in love with the new Eldritch creatures name.

@ladyedwina @5am-the-foxing-hour @sparrowofsong

[brax-was-here]

Scarlet Briar: The Seeds of Life Chapter 5

Written by: Braxxus

Chapter 5: We Thought You Had Perished

Sometimes plans don’t go as planned 

Sounds of the jungle’s inhabitants buzzed all around Ceara as she travelled through the unforgiving terrain, evading sparce groups of mordrem as she followed the roughly cut path.

“A relic of Mordremoth?” she thought to herself. The vegetation of the jungle slowly diminished giving away to an open area shattered by Mordremoth’s vines

“Why can’t I be rid of him?”  she muttered to herself as she passed by inert thorn covered vines jutting everywhere from the ground. The plateau eventually narrowed to a point overlooking a chasm.

“Well…” She muttered as she looked over the edge of the cliff into the canyon below. “I guess this is the moment of truth.” The breeze whipped past her as she mulled over her choices. “It’s either risking death or…” she turned, looking back the way she came. “Or finding the longest way around.” She placed her goggles over her eyes and looked out over the canyon. She opened a panel on one of her gauntlets, focusing on a ridge on the far wall.

“Feh, not there.” She spat as a small reading came up indicating it was too far to reach by teleportation. She looked at the canyon floor. The same reading came up.

“Thorns.” She tried one other ridge that was closer, but it too was too far away.

“Well…I have my answer.” She reluctantly resigned herself to using the glider Zuma had given her. She breathed in deep as she stepped a few yards away from the ledge, deploying the wings. She pressed a switch on her gauntlet. “Hopefully if I fall, I’ll be able to teleport somewhere to a safe spot…maybe. Anyway, here we go…” She raced to the canyon edge and leapt. She started falling at first, until the wind caught her and carried her away from the canyon wall.

“AAAAAH HAHAHAHA!!!” she screamed as she realized she as gliding down the canyon, her heart racing with excitement. “I’M FLYING!” She hadn’t felt this excited since the first time she jumped through one of her steam portals.

“Cian…” The terrain passed below her as her thoughts briefly drifted back to the sylvari from long ago and how he dreamed of flying with the birds. “I’m sorry…” she smiled as she watched the canyon pass by. “Well, no time to dwell on such things now.” She thought as she slowly descended to the ground. Once again, she stumbled slightly upon landing.

“I’m going to have to practice that landing part.” She muttered as she got to her feet. She turned and looked back the way she came to see how far she had travelled.

“Wow.” She lightly gasped, smiling. “Who knew it was possible? Anyway, no time to waste.” She closed the glider wings and continued her journey through the canyon.

“Mordremoth…” she whispered as she looked up the canyon walls. Giant vines protruded along the route, twisting and threading through the canyon. Her anger simmered at the memories of what he had done to her.

“I wish I could have delivered the death knell myself.” Her lips twisted in disgust as she looked down at the canyon floor in front of her. “That bastard…” she hissed. Drawing a deep breath, she tried to push the memories from her thoughts. Travelling around a bend, she spied the wreckage of a pact airship in the distance, crushed within the coil of a slew of vines. The air was deathly still as she cautiously approached the area, readying her rifle. Only the sounds of far-off jungle birds made any sounds. The debris field around the smashed ship was large, with nothing recognizable, save for a couple makeshift cannons set up on ramshackle supports. There were signs of a hastily built camp, but she could tell it had not been inhabited in a long time. Makeshift weapons were strewn about the area.

She knelt, grabbing a piece of sharpen metal fitted with a hastily carved wooden handle. “They used whatever they could to fend off the dragon’s minions.” She thought to herself looking over the weapon. A slight squeak in the wreckage pulled her attention away. Dropping the knife, she readied her rifle, catching movement through the hull of the airship. She could hear the sounds of scarp metal rattling as something was moving quickly through the wreck.  

“Skritt? Are you skritt? Come out. Now!” A small lizard hopped onto a top of an open container, peeping at her.

“Oh…” a small sigh of relief as she lowered her weapon. Just then more appeared from the wreckage. They wasted no time charging at her.

“GAH!” she gasped as she instinctively dropped her rifle and activated her force shield just as they surrounded her.

“I definitely don’t have time for this nonsense!” she spat as she unhooked the handle of a beam saber from her belt. Igniting the blade, she dispatched the small creatures quickly.

“I’m not your dinner!” She growled as she sliced the last of the small reptiles. “Wonderful. Something else to watch for in the place.” She snarled as she hooked the hilt back to her belt before picking up her rifle.

“Ok, this has got to go for now.” She removed the glider and set it against a pile of twisted metal. “As useful as this glider is, it’s quite cumbersome.” She cautiously climbed through the hull. “Empty containers, improvised weapons…and blood everywhere.” she noted as she looked at a dried patch of what appeared to be blood smeared across a panel of the airship.

“And no remains of the pact members anywhere. Hmm…” she spied a small book laying under a piece of twisted flooring.

“What have we here…A journal of sorts.” She leaned her rifle against a piece of debris as she started flipping through the pages. “It belonged to an asura named Gledde.” She continued paging through it, stopping at an entry.

“Twenty-four hours have passed since we were yanked from the sky by Mordremoth. Half of our sylvari comrades have abandoned us, running off into the jungle following a “call”. The ones that have stayed are doing their best to stay focused. We’ve done our best to fortify the wreck site and set up a camp. We’ve managed to salvage enough supplies from the storage lockers to last a few days, maybe a week, and made some extra weapons out of parts of the ship. Also, we were able to get a couple cannons set up for defense.”

She turned the page. “The mordrem are everywhere. We can feel them watching from the trees. Their attacks are sporadic, and when they withdrawal, they drag the bodies of the fallen with them. It’s a little unnerving to say the least. Are they eating the dead? It’s something I’d rather not think about. Hopefully we’ll be rescued soon.”

“Five days have now passed. Our supplies are dwindling, our numbers are shrinking. We can only light the signal fires for a short time before we have to extinguish them for fear of attracting the enemy. I fear we may not make it back to Tyria.” She paused as a small light blink on one of her gauntlets. “Hmm?”

“Someone’s behind me…” she thought. In an instant she unholstered her pistol and spun around to find another pistol pointed at her face.  She glared at the individual clad in brown leather armor, a scarf and bandana concealing his face, leaving only bright blue eyes staring at her. She glanced at the uncovered arm holding the pistol, blue sylvari skin revealing the identity of her assailant.

“Well…” she spoke slyly. “This is particularly interesting…” she smiled. She dropped the journal, smacking her assailants pistol aside with her own. She pulled the trigger, firing a shot but the blue sylvari was able to sidestep her. He grabbed her arm, locking it in position. Planting his foot behind her, he grabbed her around the neck and tossed her to the ground. She brought her pistol around, but he kicked it away, planting one foot on her right arm and a knee on her left, pinning her down.

“Oooooh, how did you know I like it rough!?” she mockingly squealed. “Just be warned…I never kiss on the first date.” He pointed his pistol at her. She smiled.

“So why don’t you tell me who you are before you have your way with me?” she asked slyly.

“Scarlet Briar…” a deep voice spoke behind the scarf.

Ceara sighed, rolling her eyes. “No, that’s me. I asked you who you are...Harbinger!”

Her assailant paused a moment before pulling his scarf away, revealing the face of a sylvari she had read about in Amaranda’s book.

“Malyck…how nice to finally make your acquaintance.” she smiled.

“Why are you in this jungle?” he asked, his tone very serious.

“Why, I’ve come to pick flowers.” She replied sarcastically. He pointed his pistol at her forehead.

“I know what you have done to Tyria, woman. Do not provoke me.”

“You mean what Mordremoth did to Tyria.” She spat back.

“Mordremoth? It was you who awoke him.”

“He controlled me.” She said, her anger starting to rise. “Now, unless you plan to ravish me, would you be so kind as to remove your pistol and let me up?”

“You are-“ he was cut off by voices nearby.

“I’m sure the shot came from near this wreckage. Probably inside.”

“Ok, you check inside. I’ll stand guard out here and keep an eye out.”

They both looked out and saw two sylvari approaching.

“Nightmare courtiers.” Ceara whispered recognizing their armor. Malyck rolled off her ducking behind a pile of scrap metal. Ceara pushed a switch on her gauntlet, activating her stealth field. She ducked behind a large piece of metal plating.

“Thorns…” she spat as she watched one of the courtiers picked up the glider.

“Someone was definitely here. Look at this.”

“That’s one of those gliding things the frogs had.” The other spoke. “Do you think it’s still here?”

“Not sure. Be on your guard.” They watched as the courtier entered the hull of the ship, his sword drawn. His gaze settled upon Ceara’s rifle. “Whoa…” he gasped, picking it up from its resting place. “What kind of weapon is this?” he turned and hurried out of the wreckage. “Hey, look at this!” he shouted.

“Whoa. That thing is…that is impressive. What kind of rifle is that? It looks like something the rats would make at Rata Sum.”

Ceara’s field faded. Malyck glanced at her before turning his attention back to the courtiers.

“We could kill them easily.” he whispered. Ceara nodded, bringing her pistol up.

“I’m sure Nafiona would love to have this in her arsenal.” One of the courtiers spoke.

“Nafiona?” Ceara whispered. She looked at Malyck, who was bringing his own pistol to bear on them.

“Wait!” she whispered. He looked at her confused. “I have a plan.” She slowly reached into one of her satchels, pulling out two small devices. She pressed a button each, attaching on the inside of the skirt of her armor. She tossed the other to Malyck, who looked at her puzzled.

“What are you doing?” He asked looking at the device.

“It’s a tracking device...” She whispered. “So you can find me.”

“What? Why would I want to do that?”

“There is a frog village to the east with an acquaintance that is looking for this group of courtiers. Head there to get her and some help.”

“Why should I help you?” he protested.

“Because they are both our enemy, and this Nafiona wants some powerful relic of Mordremoth that is in this jungle somewhere.”

“Relic of Mordremoth? What is that?”

“I don’t know, but I have the feeling it’s going to be bad for all of us if she finds it. So please, go to the village and get help.”

“What are you going to do?” he muttered as she pulled her hood up and stood quietly.  

“I’m going with them. To find their camp. Just be ready in case this goes south quickly.” She started moving towards the courtiers.

“Wait…what? Are you mad?” he asked. She gave him a disgusted look.

“Your words hurt, harbinger.”

“Don’t call me that. I am not some harbinger of doom.” He replied back. She started towards the opening in the hull.

“Would you be as so kind to return my weapon to me?” she commanded loudly as she moved through the wreckage, her hand resting on her pistol under her cloak.

“Who’s there!?” the courtiers turned, one drawing her bow, the other pointing the rifle. “Show yourself!” Ceara exited through the hole in the wrecked ship.

“Do you not know me?” Ceara asked, removing her hood. The faces of the courtiers dropped.

“M…Madam Scarlet!?” one asked disbelievingly. Ceara, stifled her gasp, trying her best to hide her surprise at the name.

“You…you’re dead!” the other added.

“Well obviously I’m not! I seem to be very much alive! Now why are you courtiers out here in the jungle!?” she asked coyly.

The duo looked at each other.

“Well!?” Ceara acted agitated.

“Uh…Madam Scarlet, we’re here with Nafiona. She’s on the hunt for something powerful. Something she could use to unite the Nightmare Court.”

Ceara brought her hand up to her face, resting her elbow on her other arm, acting as if she was pondering the Courtiers comment. “What is your name, boy?” She finally asked him.

“Caelan…madam.” He replied, somewhat sheepishly.

“Caelan?” She paused a moment, narrowing her eyes at him. “You were at the nightmare tower…” she muttered.

“Yes, Madam.”

“Are you still catching flies with your mouth?”

“Uh?” Caelan reached up and found his mouth hanging slightly open.

“That’s what I thought.” Ceara snarled at him. “My rifle…now!” Caelan quickly held the rifle out, kneeling before her. She pulled the clip out looking inside of it.

“Hmm…” she raised a hand in the air in front of her, causing a small holographic panel to appear. She tapped a few keys in sequence and another clip appeared in her hand. Plugging it into the rifle, she activated it. The rifle powered up, extending its barrel and projecting holograms around it giving readings. The coutiers were seemingly amazed at it.

“That…that is an impressive piece of equipment, Madam.” The woman said.

Ceara glanced at her with a sly smile, deactivating her weapon and slinging it over her shoulder.

“So, what is your name, girl?”

“Orla, madam.” The sylvari bowed.

“Orla…I do not know you.” Ceara looked at her. “How many more of you are there?”

“Madam, a little over twenty.”

“Twenty? Well, the court seems to have shrunken these days without Faolain to guide it.”

“The court still exists, Madam. It’s just…” Caelan paused. “just that some traitors felt the need to try to control it. Nafiona will make them see the error of their ways.”

“Oooh, so…it’s fractured, you say?” Ceara mockingly pondered the thought. “It seems the warlords are thirsty for power. Where is Nafiona now?”

“She is with the main group, Madam.” Orla replied.

“Take me to her.”

The duo looked at each other before responding. “Yes, Madam.” Ceara glanced over her shoulder towards where Malyck was hiding and gave a slight nod.

“So, I’ll finally meet this Nafiona.” She thought to herself.

Malyck watched the trio leave the wreck site, soon joined by a third courtier member that was hiding in the vegetation. He cautiously made his way to opening, peering out to make sure there was no one else there.

“Relic of Mordremoth…” he spoke quietly to himself as he looked at the tracking device Scarlet Briar had given him.

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Liathlas slowly stirred as Mabli applied more extract to her wound.

“Ceara, what happen-“ Liathlas’s eyes went wide as she opened them and gazed upon the visage of a giant frog staring at her. “Um..hello” she stammered as she froze.

“Don’t be afraid. I am applying medicine to helping you.”

“Medicine?”

“Yes, you were afflicted by poison from the mordrem. I was able to save you before it was too late.”

“The mordrem? Where’s Ceara?”

“Your friend travelled ahead towards the west into the jungle in search of others of your kind.” Mabli answered, wiping her hands.

“Of my kind? What are…ow…” Trying to sit up Liathlas grimaced as her whole body ached.

“Lay down. You must rest until the poison is removed completely.” Mabli stated.

“I…can’t…Ceara is out there in the jungle and I need to catch up to her.” Liathlas stood up, shakily leaning against her staff as the room seem to wobble.

“you are too weak to travel. Especially with the sun setting. The mordrem are more active at night.” Mabli moved to the entrance to her hut. “Look, the villagers are locking down the village as we speak for the evening.” Liathlas slowly hobbled next to her and looked out over the trees.”

“Oh..my…” she gasped as the realization hit her that the village was suspended high in the canopy of the jungle. Villagers were steadily taking up rope bridges and walkways that lead down to the surface below.

“So we’re trapped here? Until morning?” Liathlas asked. Mabli nodded her head.

“But why are these mordrem still hostile? There were others…other modrem that we met in the wastes that were not hostile. They seemed…remorseful.”

“Not all the mordrem have relented the call of the jungle dragon.” Mabli turned and walked over to a small lantern. “Their minds gone. They still follow what he called them to do.” She reached into a small pouch, pulling out a pinch of a powder that she rubbed in between her fingers, sprinkling it into the lantern flame. She clapped her hands together, causing an ethereal image to appear.

“Your kind fell to the dragon in droves.” Mabli spoke. Liathlas watched as various sylvari were slowly transformed into the mordrem guard, thick plates of rough bark-like skin growing over their bodies, their faces twisting into hideous monstrous forms. Liathlas moved closer.

“Not all of your kind were so easily swayed by the dragons call. These heroes arrived here to defeat the jungle dragon.” Images of battle appeared in the fog.

“Is that…Trahearne? And Faolain?” Liathlas asked. Images of the members of Destiny’s Edge fighting the sylvari filled the cloud. Caithe being chased by a great beast bearing Faolain’s image. Trahearne and others being taken into the jungle by mordrem. Members of the pact fighting, being slain by the sylvari.

“All hope seemed lost, save for the timely arrival of another group of heroes.” The fog shifted, revealing a small group that Liathlas did not recognize, but for two. The Pact Commander and the sylvari Canach. “This group traversed the jungle and found a way to stop the jungle dragon.” The image changed again, showing the mordrem guard. Some dropping their weapons, some screaming in agony, others turning on their own kind.

“Without the call of Mordremoth…” Liathlas started.

“They were lost.” Mabli finished. “Some accepted what they had become. Others still cling to their masters call.”

“And still others try to return to the Grove…” Liathlas spoke softly. The mist faded. Liathlas sighed turning to the doorway. “I’ve got to fin-WHAAAAA!!” She found a blue skinned sylvari standing in the entry way to the hut.

“If you are looking for Scarlet Briar…” Malyck started, holding up the small tracking device. “This will lead us to her.”

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Ceara followed the group of courtiers through the rocky ravines and ravaged terrain. Giant vines of the jungle dragon towered over head, coiling around wreckage of the pact fleet, holding the twisted shells of the airships aloft high in the air.

“With Mordremoth dead, you would think these vines would weaken and come crashing down.” She muttered.

“It would seem so.” Caelan replied.

“Madam, how did you survive the Lion’s Arch battle?” Orla asked over her shoulder.

“Quick thinking and planning.” Ceara smirked, glancing at the courtier next to her. “I knew they would attack the Breachmaker. I knew I had limited time to do what I needed to do and get out.”

“But the rumors said you were stabbed and killed.”

“Holograms are wonderful things, aren’t they? When used properly, they can fool anyone.” She said slyly, grabbing a mordrem vine and snapping the end off. It crumbled to pieces, disintegrating in her hand.

“The sun is setting.” The third coutier mentioned. “We need to hurry to the camp.”

“Oh my! You do speak!” Ceara quipped. “And here I thought you were mute. What is your name?”

“Odhran.” He replied sharply, keeping his gaze looking forward.

“Odhran.” Ceara repeated. “Well, Odhran, what are you about?”

The courtier cut his eyes at Ceara briefly before setting his gaze forward, never answering.

“It’s ok, courtier. You don’t have to be shy.” Ceara snarked.

“Can we kill this one?” Odhran asked, a hint of agitation in his voice. Ceara stopped, her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “Her constant rabble is very irritating.” He continued.

Ceara placed her hand on her pistol under her cloak. “I’d watch your tongue, if I were you, boy.”

Ordhran stopped, turning quickly to face Ceara, his hand on his sword. Ceara stared him in the eyes, a slight smirk on her face.

Orla and Caedan both turned to see the standoff.

“What is it, boy? Do you think your sword is good enough to take me?” Ceara asked whimsically, her smile broadening.

“Ordhran, stop this nonsense. Madam Scarlet is just talkative!” Orla stood between them, shaking her finger in Ordhran’s face.

“Orla, you do that again and I’ll be sure to bite it off.” Ordhran glanced at Ceara again before turning to continue along the path. His quickly moved to the front of the group.

“I’m sorry, Madam.” Orla bowed to Ceara.

“Next time, I won’t wait.” Ceara replied to her.

The group continued on, the rocky terrain eventually changing to more of the lush forest. Every so often, the Ceara would spot a marker on a tree along the path.

“You seem to know this area fairly well. Have you been here for a while?” Ceara asked.

“We’ve scouted the area.” Caedan replied. “The camp is on that plateau.” He pointed to ridge not far in the distance. Reaching the crest, Ceara saw the Nightmare Court camp in the distance.

“Aren’t you afraid of the mordrem attacking?” she asked.

“We have ways of keeping them at bay.” Orla said to her.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Mmhmm.” She nodded her head.

Ceara reached under the lip of the skirt of her armor and pulled out the small device. She pressed a small switch on it and placed it against a tree as she walked by. As they approached, she looked over the encampment. Numerous small tents were set up, along with hastily constructed barriers built from the trees near the camp. Various sylvari were busy at work setting up more defenses. Ceara noticed some machinery set along the perimeter of the camp.

“What are those machines?” she asked inquisitively.

“Part of our defense against the mordrem, and anything else that happens that tries to make it to the camp.” Caedan spoke.

“I see.”

The group entered the camp. Ordhran quickly left the group, marching to a nearby tent. The other two took Ceara to a small fire pit near the center of the compound.

“Ordhran is getting the duchess now. I think she’ll be happy to see you!” Orla eyes were bright as she looked at Ceara.

“Activate the field!” a voice called out.

“Activating!” another replied. Ceara watched as the camp was quickly covered in a dome of energy before it faded.

“Was that what I think it was?” Ceara asked.

“An illusion field, like the one that hid the tower in Kessex.” Caedan said to her. “We thought you might like that.” he smiled.

“Interesting…” Ceara looked around the camp.

“Part of our protection from the predators of the jungle.” He added. Ceara lightly nodded, a feeling of uncertainty filling her stomach.

“Something isn’t right here.” She thought to herself.

“Well…if it isn’t Madam Scarlet Briar herself.” A sultry voice spoke from behind. Ceara turned to see a purple skinned sylvari female in dark robes approaching.

“Toxic alliance…” Ceara muttered to herself, noticing the shoulder pauldrons, gauntlets, and boots the woman was wearing. Ceara thinned her eyes at her.

“And here we all thought you had perished.” She spoke slyly.

“I assume you must be Nafiona.” Ceara said sharply.

“You assume correctly. So, tell me, Madam…” Nafiona said in a mocking tone.  “What magic was used to raise you from the depths of the harbor? And without a single blemish.” Nafiona smiled. “I’m sure you tasted rather bitter to the sea life down there.”

“Planning and preparedness is what kept me alive.” Ceara smiled.

“Is that so?” Plans within plans. Always prepared.” Nafiona spoke softly. “Even at the nightmare tower. You had a plan to escape.”

“I’m always ready.” Ceara smirked. “Now what are you doing all the way out here in the jungle. Surely you aren’t here to follow Mordremoth?”

“Of course not. We have you to thank for nearly destroying our people. That was your game plan all along. To awaken the jungle dragon and force the sylvari into slavery. Having that damn voice in our heads nearly drove us insane.”

“You don’t say!” Ceara quipped. “Please tell me about it! Tell me how it took all your willpower to keep focused as Mordremoth filled your head with thoughts that you couldn’t tell were actually your own or not. That something was residing within you. Trying to take control.” Ceara gritted her teeth. Anger showed on Nafiona’s face. Tension was in the air. Ceara steadied her hand by her pistol as she noticed she was being flanked by courtiers.

“They’re up to something.” She thought. Nafiona raised her head slightly, looking down her nose at Ceara. “Now, why don’t you call off your courtiers and maybe we can talk about-“

“Seize her.” Nafiona commanded, cutting Ceara off. The group of courtiers tackled Ceara to the ground. Ceara didn’t fight back, allowing herself to be picked up and held in a kneeling position in front of Nafiona. Her weapons were removed as a courtier grabbed her by her foilage and held her face towards the glaring Nafiona. Nafiona stepped in front of her, grabbing Ceara firmly by the chin.

“You left us there. You promised us power and glory in the new world, and you left us to the mercy of the Lionguard and Seraph. And not just them. The krait also turned against us.” She threw Ceara’s head to the side, scratching her cheek in the process. Ceara paused for a moment, her eyes closed. Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened her eyes, cutting them at Nafiona.

“So now you want your revenge?” Ceara asked coyly. “What are you going to do? Feed me to the mordrem?”

Nafiona smiled. “You are a bright one.”

“Well, I did embarrass all those stiffs in Rata Sum.”

“Heh.” Nafiona smirked as she snapped her fingers. Ceara felt something heavy hit the back of her head before blacking out.

“Strip her, cage her. We’ll get her strung up in the morning before we head off to the corpse grove.” Nafiona ordered. “Are the canisters ready?”

“Yes, m’lady.” Ordhran replied. “Loaded up and ready to be armed once we get there.”

“Excellent.” She turned her head slowly, looking down at the unconscious Ceara.

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“We can’t just sit here while Ceara is out there with the Nightmare Court. She’s in trouble!” Liathlas protested.

“Travelling through the jungle is too risky. If we go now, we would be overwhelmed by the mordrem. We must wait until morning.” Mabli insisted.

“Hmph!” Liathlas turned to the door agitated. The night sky had fallen and most of the village’s torches had been extinguished.

“If she is as resourceful as I have heard, then this Ceara should be able to handle the Court with little problems.” Malyck spoke. “We can’t run after them unprepared.” He turned to Mabli.  “How many arrived in this village?”

“A group of five. They were asking for information about the land, and certain locations throughout the jungle. They asked about the ‘corpse grove’.”

“Corpse grove?” Liathlas turned away from the door.

“Yes, it is a place of death. Many mordrem are there. We stay away from the area, never venturing close.”

“I’ve seen it from afar.” Malyck stated.

“What is it?” Liathlas inquired.

“It is a tree, grown from Mordremoth. A place where the mordrem are created and grown. Akin to your Pale Tree and her sylvari.” Malyck responded to her.

“Hmm…she is looking for an item of great power. Do you think whatever she is looking for is there?” Liathlas asked.

“That is hard to say. Who knows what the mordrem are holding in their possession?” Mabli stated.

Liathlas sighed deeply. She plopped down next to the wall of the hut, resting her head against the mud and wooden structure before looking at Malyck. “So, Malyck. What is your story? From what I have heard in the past, you aren’t one of us.”

“No, I’m not.” He glared at her. “I came from a different tree. One that no longer exists.”

Liathlas looked at him inquisitively. “What happened?”

He sat down across the hut from her. “When I returned to the jungle, I searched a long time for my home and my patience rewarded me. I was lucky enough to find it. A grand tree, not as tall as your Pale Tree, but majestic none the less. I told my people that there were others of our kind and that we should rise up to help fight the dragons. Then Mordremoth awakened. When he rose, his creatures attacked my home. He enslaved those that were captured, killed those that resisted. He turned them into his mordrem. I do not know how many of us were able to escape. I watched as my home whithered and perished.”

“I’m sorry.” Liathlas said softly as she turned her gaze to the floor of the hut.

“We should get some sleep. We’ll need to be well rested before going after the Nightmare Court in the morning.” He said to her.