#like he was so shocked and disgusted when i told him about my own SA

[bwayruinedme]

This is very very personal on main but I need to shout into the void for a sec

In the tags though obviously

[radiant-reid]

Do you remember the season 4 ep where spencer is convinced his dad murdered the little boy. Well I’ve had so many people convince me that his dad did SA cause there’s so much evidence in that episode. So maybe spencer finally telling the reader about it or the reader protecting him against his dad and when Rossi and Morgan try and convince him it’s all in his head. Obviously if you are uncomfortable writing this I completely understand 💗💗

TW: descriptive childhood SA, please do not read if this might trigger you <333

You first found out six months ago. You were late getting into bed, having been finishing some paperwork in the office, and you walked into the darkened room, put your pajamas on, and did your skincare routine in the bathroom before walking back into the bedroom.

Checking if Spencer was awake, you squeezed his leg. Quickly he freaked out, sitting upright and moving as far away from you as he possibly could.

You flicked the light on, in shock about what was happening as his breathing quickened and he tried to calm himself down from having a major panic attack.

He looks terrified, ghost white, more scared than you've ever seen him.

Your voice got him through it. "Spencer, hey, it's me. It's okay." You comforted him.

You didn't make a move to touch him until he held out his hand, asking for it. You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back even tighter.

"It's just me." You assured him again. "No one can hurt you."

Then he started crying, bursting into tears. It was equally shocking, and you wrapped your arms around him to hold him. He cried into your neck for what felt like an hour.

You cupped his cheek when he finally pulled back. "You're safe, Spencer. I promise you."

"I'm so sorry." He quickly apologized.

You shook your head, holding your index finger to your lips. "Spencer, you have nothing to be sorry about. Do you want to talk about it?"

"You should sleep, or you'll be tired tomorrow." He answered, moving to get out of bed.

"No, baby." You told him. "I'm not leaving you awake and this upset."

He hesitantly nodded. "Tea?"

You agreed, insisting on making it while he sat on the couch, all the lights in the living room turned on.

You handed him his mug when it was ready, not resting your hand on his thigh like you usually would. "What happened, baby?"

"Are you sure?" He asked hesitantly. What he needed to say was the type of thing he couldn't ever unsay.

"Whatever is bothering you is my privilege to help you deal with." You reminded him.

He sighed deeply. "When I was little, like right after my mom's diagnosis, my parents started fighting a lot." He started. "My dad... he, uh, he'd come in my room late at night."

Your heart sunk in your chest in an instant, stomach churned. You knew where this was going, you saw it in your line of work, but you never thought Spencer had gone through something like that. Your first assumption- that it had to do with Tobias Hankel -is horribly wrong.

You wished it was right as he continued. "He used to put his hand on my leg. And it was so dark, Y/n." Spencer's voice cracked as tears started to trail down his cheek. You cried with him, unable to help it at your boyfriend's pain and the heartbreaking story. "He touched me, and he made me touch him." He sobbed more at the memory. "I hated it, and it was so dark. I couldn't see anything, Y/n."

"Spencer." You cooed, still crying your own tears and not sure what to say. "You are so brave." You reminded him. "You never deserved any of that. What he did to you, to his child, is disgusting, and he's an awful person because of it." He nods, hearing the words he's told himself coming out of your mouth. "You never told anyone?"

He shook his head. "Not until just now. I didn't- my mom was sick so it wasn't im-"

You cut him off, shaking your head. "It was important, Spencer. You're important." It's heartbreaking to think of Spencer as a little kid, weighing his own needs below everyone else's.

"Thank you." He said softly.

"You don't have to thank me. I'll always be here for you." You assured him. "Can I ask you something?"

He nodded, meekly. "Sure."

"Is there anything else that triggers you?" You asked. "Besides the dark."

He couldn't believe anyone could care so much, but you did. "Orange juice." He answered. "He'd let me have some afterward in bed."

You nodded. "Do you want a hug?" He melted forward into your arms, letting you hold him tightly. "I'm with you, Spencer. Always."

[michaelasworlds-blog]

Daddy’s Girl (A Hazbin OC Fanfic)

~~~~~~

Ch.9: Him

~~~~~~

🚨TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT, MENTIONS OF SA & ALCOHOL/DRUG ABUSE🚨

“What are you doing?” Zeke’s voice was heard through the phone.

“Uh..” Bean didn’t know what to say. How could she tell him that she was currently sitting on the tv demon’s bed, rubbing his back. “Nothin..”

“You’re with him aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” She said, Vox groaned, “Shh..” Bean continued rubbing.

“Bean, you were supposed to drop him off then leave,” He sighed.

“I know, but he kept turning on his back and I was worried that he’d choke on his own vomit and I didn’t wanna be responsible for-”

“Okay okay, I got it, just be careful” Zeke interrupted her. “Don’t bring up anything about the book.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” She rolled her eyes. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Uh..ok?”

“What is the worst thing you did when you were alive?” Bean asked.

It was silent for a moment then Zeke sighed, “Um..well, I was working with the wrong kind of people; I was like a spy in a way. I would get information from rivals and give it to the people I worked for, one day I was surrounded by the rivals and abducted, they abducted my brother. They wanted me to confirm if he was the spy, apparently the people I worked for told them it was him and not me.”

“And you confirmed, didn't you?” Bean asked sadly.

“Yeah,” Zeke responded. “They killed him right in front of me.”

“I’m sorry, that must’ve been awful,”

Bean sat in the dark feeling conflicted, that’s all she felt these days. Well, to be fair she was always confused, she wished she knew what was going on half the time. She laid next to Vox looking at her reflection in his dark screen.

What was she doing?

Who was she?

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

Chicago,1990s

Ruby wasn’t used to possession, she hadn’t gotten far with the last two; she wanted to help them but it only drove them to insanity. She wanted to help her children, but they wouldn’t help her. Bean wanted to help her but it was hard, she wouldn’t let Ruby take full control.

Ruby knew why.

It was because of him.

Bean was petrified of him, Ruby found him disgusting. Ruby had suggested ignoring him but he retaliated by taking away food for Bean, which in turn was food that Ruby wasn’t getting. If her child wasn’t healthy, she couldn’t be either. Ruby couldn’t return to full power if Bean wasn’t eating..So they resorted to eating while he wasn’t around, which wasn’t often or doing things Bean’s way; which was eating raw meat. Ruby didn’t mind, until today.

He had come home unexpectedly, leaving Bean in a state of shock; this gave Ruby the chance to take over. She watched him walk into the kitchen and sit right next to her, Ruby could feel Bean’s heart start to race. She swallowed her fear down glaring at the man.

“How’s my Beanie Baby doin?” He caressed her face, giving her a sick grin. Ruby snatched away, still glaring into his eyes, the man laughed. “Ya know I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I like this new you,” he bit his lip. “Like that you started putting up a fight.”

She stayed silent. Not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

He frowned, “You shouldn’t be eating raw meat,” the man threw food she had in front of her, in the trash. “It’s not good for you,” he whispered in her ear before leaving.

Ruby stared at the trash can, feeling the anger rise in her chest, she dug her nails into the wooden table.

“Don’t worry..mother will deal with him..”

Present Day, Hell

“What are you doing here?” Ruby glared at him.

“Now now, I thought we were friends,” the man grinned. She could only see half his face, the other half was hidden in his hood, “After all you knew my daughter’s body more than I did.”

Ruby stood up, looking the man directly in the eye. She didn’t want to cause a scene in her own establishment, “Shall we talk in the back?”

He chuckled, “No.”

“What do you want, Stefan?” She whispered, almost forcing the name out of her mouth like vomit.

He stepped closer to her, “Where is she?”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” Ruby smirked.

“Sure I can start breaking everyone’s necks in here, starting with her,” he pointed at Trixie. “Is that specific enough for you?” He leaned into her.

Ruby looked at her children, she couldn’t risk their lives for one, it wouldn’t be fair. She’d be alone again, she didn’t want to be alone.. “I don’t know where Bean is, but I can get her to come here,” She lied. She just needed to stall until she thought of something.

Stefan started slowly backing her into the wall behind her, she could see the other half of his face; which looked nothing but static and a glowing red eye that Ruby couldn’t help but stare at,“If you’re lying to me, I will burn this building down with everyone in it, do you understand what I’m saying?” She slowly nodded, “Good,” he grinned, before leaving.

Once he was gone Ruby let out a sigh of relief.

“Mother? Is everything okay?” One of her children asked. She nodded, she was so angry that she had no words for anyone.

“Tell Ty to start closing up,” She said before storming off. “I need to make a call.”

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

“Help..help me…please,” Bean heard a weak voice coming from down a dark hall. She slowly and quietly walked towards it.

Making it a dimly lit basement stairwell she stopped, hoping the voice wasn’t coming from there. “Is someone there?” Crap, Bean rolled her eyes.

She walked down the stairs, trying to stay away from the blood prints on the walls. The door was opened ajar, Bean slid into the very cold basement. She turned on the light, jumping back against the wall at the sight in front of her. There was a blue creature in the middle of the floor, with one leg and had stab wounds all over its body. It reached out to Bean with its bloody hand, “Help..” it was throwing up blood.

Bean walked towards it, “Who did this?”

“Please, it hurts,” it cried.

Bean picked it up, putting it on her back before exiting the basement, however the house had changed. Instead of a cold dreary old house, it was a cozy house; like one of those houses she had seen in a Christmas catalog. It was warm and quiet, it was even snowing outside. Bean walked into the living room to see a light skinned girl with curly hair sitting on the couch, she was covered in dirt, staring at static on the tv

“Excuse me?” Bean tapped the girl. She turned her head towards her looking annoyed.

“If you’re looking for him he isn’t done yet,” the girl snapped at Bean.

“I just need a phone, this person is hurt-” Bean realized the creature was no longer there. “What?”

The girl stood up, “He’s my dad too! It’s not fair! Why do you get all the nice stuff and I don’t!” She screamed.

Bean backed away in shock, “What do you-” she threw up a yellow liquid, she covered her mouth; but the closer the girl got the more liquid came out. She ran upstairs as the girl kept shouting.

Now she was in a long seemingly endless hallway. She was panting, she stopped to breathe. However Bean couldn’t rest for long, a monstrous screech came from where she had come from. “Hello?!” She started banging on doors. “Please help! There’s something after me!” She cried.

🚨TRIGGER WARNING: THIS PART CONTAINS SOUNDS OF SA🚨 (skip bold font if uncomfortable)

“For fuck sake Gee! I said let me finish!” A familiar voice came from one of the doors. Bean stopped frozen in fear. There were grunts and moans coming from it, “I love you so much Beanie, fuck you’re so beautiful,” the voice continued. There were small whimpering noises coming from the room.

Bean stared at the door, she wanted to stop listening, to keep running, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move. The longer she stayed the louder the noises became, the more noises she heard.

She noticed a sign on the door, it was written in terrible but familiar handwriting,

“DO NOT ENTER! THIS IS A ROCKER ZONE!”

“This is..mine,” she took the sign, finally backing away from the door.

Bean bumped into something making her turn around. It was her, but with yellow liquid coming from her eyes and mouth.

Before Bean could scream she threw up yellow liquid.

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

Bean woke up gagging. She looked around, she sighed in relief remembering she was in V-Tower, in Vox’s bedroom? It looked like he worked in here too, there were multiple tvs on the ceilings and a desk that went around the room filled with papers. She looked down also realizing she was in the same dress from last night.

Vox wasn’t in bed. Maybe he was in the bathroom? Wherever it was in here. Or the closet? There was no one in the closet. Maybe the bathroom, since she could hear humming coming from it.

There was a light knock at the door, “Um sir?” A voice came from the other side. “Zestial wants to know if you’ll be advertising his herb brand, at least that’s what I think it says..I’m not very good at old English-“ Bean opened the door, startling the assistant.

“Hi!” She smiled.

He jumped back, “Um hi, is Mr. Vox-”

“Is that for him?” She took the stack of papers, “Wow these are heavy, you carried these by yourself?” Bean was amazed.

“Yeah actually, I like to get my daily walk in so I usually take the stairs,” he smiled, flattered.

“Well don’t work too hard, I can give these to him if you want,” She offered. “I’m Bean, what’s your name?”

“Well Mr. Vox told me my name was Papermint so..”

“What was your name when you were alive?”

“Colin.”

“Hi Colin, I’m Beatrice,” she waved.

“But didn’t you say your name was-” before he could finish there was a loud thud from the bathroom.

The sinners rushed inside seeing Vox on the floor, a low battery sign flashed on his screen. They looked at each other then back at the overlord.

“There wouldn’t happen to be a charger in here right?” Bean asked Colin, hoping she wouldn’t have to drag this 7 foot tall man down a flight of stairs.

He shook his head, Bean groaned.

After 45 minutes of dragging Vox down the hall to the elevator and trying to get the password for the elevator, they finally got him to his charging port in the tv room.

“How do you plug this shit in?” Bean struggled to plug the charger into Vox, he fell over on the sofa. She looked at his ass then back at the charger smirking, getting dirty ideas.

Colin pushed him back in the upright position, “It doesn’t go there,” he took the charger from her, sticking it in the back of Vox’s head. His screen started loading, “Well I’m going now, don’t touch anything.” He left her alone.

“Ugh!” She was already bored. What the hell was she supposed to do?

Bean did the exact opposite of everything she was told, tapping the shark tank, to turning on and off cameras. “I am very confused on why this camera is right outside Voe’s bedroom,” she turned the camera off. “Oops.” She turned to Vox who was on 95%. She went over to him, sitting on his lap. Bean tapped his screen. “You’re not nice,” she poked his chest then kissed the side of his face before leaning against him, “What’s wrong with me?”

At that moment Vox woke up, he looked down in annoyance, “Why are you sitting on me?” Bean yelped startled. She fell onto the floor.

“Ow..” she stood up rubbing her back. “I was trying to see if you were awake.”

“Uh huh sure,” Vox pulled the charger out. “Is that why you were sleeping in my bed?” He crossed his arms.

“YOU asked ME to stay with you,” Bean put her hands on her hips. “You would not let go of me! then threatened to kill the limo driver!”

“I don’t remember that,” Vox waved her off.

“Yeah, you were drunk.”

“Whatever.”

Bean stared at him, it was obvious she was only annoying him. She sighed, “Fine, I’ll go.” She put her shoes on.

Vox groaned, “Wait, come back.” He pulled her back onto his lap, Bean had her arms crossed not looking at him. “Thank you, I appreciate you making sure I was okay,” She smiled at him. He blushed, rolling his eyes, “It wasn’t that big a deal, but thanks.”

“I appreciate you being nice, even if you were intoxicated,” she giggled.

He chuckled, embarrassed. Vox didn’t want anyone to see him like that, especially not Alastor or Voe..or Bean. “What did such a sweet doll like yourself do to end up down here?”

Bean leaned into him, seeing her reflection on his screen, “I killed my stepdad.”

“Interesting..” Vox was intrigued. “I guess that explains the strange behavior I’ve seen in the cameras.”

“Strange?” Bean tilted her head.

“Yeah,” He grinned. “The night after the nightmare wedding my cameras caught you ripping different sinners to shreds..all night.” Vox was excited just thinking about it, he had to admit it was hot.

Bean's eyes widened, “Are they okay?”

“Who cares?” Vox scoffed. “Val was super psyched, you got every sinner on his list; the bastard got over 1,200 souls back.”

Bean looked down, she had literally helped an abuser get his victims back. Is that why Angel went back? Was she really that scary? “I’m a failure..” she mumbled. “I don’t deserve redemption.”

“The princess got into your head didn’t she?” Vox rolled his eyes. “Redemption is a load of crap, I bet you those guys you killed probably ate babies in their lifetime! So if anything they deserved it! Not to be in heaven.”

“Do you think I deserve to go to heaven?” She looked at him shyly.

Vox pulled her closer to him, his hands resting on her waist, “My dear, you are heaven,” he winked at her.

She blushed, laughing, “Boo!”

“What? You don’t believe me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“ I don’t actually,” she smirked. “Which is ironic considering your motto is about ‘trust’.”

He laughed, his hand slowly moving from her waist to her hair, “Your hair, it’s long.” He looked at it.

She blushed even harder, the warmth from her cheeks were spreading to her entire body, “Yeah..I need to cut it.”

“Don’t,” Vox leaned forward. “I like it,” before Bean responded he kissed her, his hand still in her hair.

🚨TRIGGER WARNING: THIS PART CONTAINS SMUT🚨 (skip bold font if uncomfortable)

Bean kissed him back moaning into his mouth, she ripped his tie off tossing it aside deepening the kiss. He moved from her mouth to her neck, biting it, this only made the warmth in her body even hotter, “Vox..” She moaned, feeling the bulge in his pants graze her clit. She slowly started to grind into his crotch, her panties getting more and more soaked. Vox moaned, at one point biting into her neck, Bean screamed, “Fuck!”

“Did daddy hurt you?” He smirked, kissing the bite mark.

“Shut up,” she laughed, moaning as Vox slowly unzipped her dress. Bean pushed the dress down before Vox to kiss her cleavage, getting closer and closer to her nipple. One hand on her boob while he licked and played with her nipple through her bra.

Her tail wrapped around Vox’s leg, “Vox..fuck..” Bean could feel herself leaking through her panties as Vox pulled her closer to his boner, at this point they were grinding into each other. Her moans started becoming louder and louder the faster more they grinded.

Vox pulled one part of her bra down, licking her pierced nipple, Bean threw her head back, “Fuck Yes! Right there! Stay right there!” She was so close she could practically explode. When suddenly..

Vox’s phone rang, he pushed her off of him taking the call, “What? An overlord meeting? When?” He was listening while buttoning his shirt. Bean sat there covered in sweat and other fluids, feeling kind of silly. “You should go, I have a conference meeting in 5.”

“But it’s only 1,” Bean pouted.

“Minutes.”

“Oh, okay,” She pulled up her bra and dress disappointed before leaving.

Bean walked down the hallway feeling ashamed, even though there was no one there; she felt as though she had been some homewrecker who got shooed away because the wife was coming home.

“Boo.” She said sadly.

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

Eugenia took a deep breath before entering Donnie’s gallery, she was ready to face him. Ready to..honestly she didn’t know what she’d do. She stepped inside, the building was empty, there were no visitors. No workers.

Was Donnie even here?

She heard a loud crash coming from the back, Eugenia made her way over there cautiously.

“I knew it!” She heard a woman scream, she peeked through the door seeing Donnie and Ruby, she looked pissed. “I knew I couldn’t count on an idiot like you! And I chose to anyway!”

“Now Ruby, I don’t see what’s wrong with getting something from my daughter, you did,” he crossed his arms.

“You came to me because you wanted to protect your daughter, you wanted to see her again! You said that!” She raged on. “We made a deal back when she was alive! You just wanted to use her to play dick wars with the other overlords!”

“Now listen-”

“SHUT UP!” Ruby ripped the mask off of Donnie’s face. “You are useless!” She pushed him into a chair. All he could do was stare up in silence. “Because of you that man- your bff is comfortable enough to look down on me. ME!” Ruby slapped him with his mask. “Because of you! My child is in danger!”

Eugenia cringed hearing that. Her child was in danger, not this deranged woman.

Ruby cleared her throat, “I think it’d be better for you to spend some time in some silence,” Donnie’s eyes widened as she ripped the mask in half. “Take some time to listen to others.”

Eugenia backed up from the door bumping into someone, it was Alastor. “Funny, this doesn’t look like the Hell Mart,” he said sarcastically.

“I was just-”

“I don’t care,” he grabbed her arm before shadowing them both away.

They appeared in his radio station, “And what were you doing there?”

“I wanted to talk to him,” She shrugged.

“He seemed a bit preoccupied at the moment my dear, hope you weren’t going to ask for shared custody,” Alastor leaned on his cane.

“I need to protect my daughter-”

“If I recall correctly you wanted me to protect her,” he interrupted her.

“I know but-”

“And in return you do what I say.”

“I know! I just..I’m her mom, I want her to understand that I made mistakes but I did them for her,” she looked at the floor. If she could explain everything to Bean she’d understand.

The radio demon narrowed his eyes, “What are you saying?”

“I want to tell her, I know now that Donnie isn't the threat I thought he was, it’s..it’s my husband that’s the problem,” she sighed, then noticed Alastor looking at her still smiling, but his eyes looked at her like she was an idiot, “What?”

“It took you until you died and went to hell to realize that your husband was the issue? Is that what you’re going to tell her?”

“No- I don’t know, okay! My daughter is a very understanding person, I tell her things and she’ll listen.”

“Wow,” He slow clapped, “Mother of the year.”

She rolled her eyes, “Anyway I need to talk to Donnie, but he can’t talk at the moment.”

“Leave that to me my dear, and get back to work, will you, the residents want to see a friendly face when they come to the hotel, make sure to show off those beautiful pearly whites,” he gestured to his smile.

Eugenia rolled her eyes leaving the radio station, “I’m goin on break.”

After an hour break she went down to the front desk, “Where the hell were you?” Husk asked.

“On break,” Eugenia sat down.

“Break?! Who told you to- forget it I don’t care,” he went back to cleaning his bottles.

Eugenia took out a magazine and began reading it, “100 ways to tell a woman a bedtime story..hmm-”

“What are you doing?!” Someone yelled, making her drop her magazine. It was Voe, standing in front of her laughing.

“I’m working,” Eugenia picked up her magazine.

“Ah yes, reading ‘Sinful Stylez’ is definitely working,” Voe eyed the magazine. Eugenia quickly put it away. “Ya know I was actually on the cover a few months ago, don’t know if you saw that issue.”

She shook her head, “Sorry no..”

“Hm, anyway let’s talk!” The doe leaned on the desk.

“O..kay, what do you need?”

“You said you were a mom right?”

“I still consider myself one,” Eugenia thought of Bean. She honestly couldn’t wait to tell her that her mother was here and that she was sorry.

“Well, when you were alive, what was it like to be a mother,” Voe asked.

Eugenia had been asked that a lot when she was alive, she always told people “Raising girls were easy, at least until they become teens.” She could tell Voe probably didn’t want to hear that, she cleared her throat, “Well it’s scary, I guess you just never know what’s gonna happen with them; anything can happen but as long as you take care of them and love them you’ll always know what they need.”

“Hm, well shit I was just looking for if it’s easy or hard” Voe responded. “I got a ‘You basically give your soul to your children’.”

Eugenia laughed, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I asked. What about child birth is that-”

“Oh absolutely horrible! They say it gets easier the second time, it’s a fucking lie!” Eugenia said, making her laugh. She will never forget when she had Bean, She was fat for a baby so Eugenia was in a whole lot of pain, but having her was worth it

“I like you Gigi, you’re nice to talk to,” Voe smiled at her. Eugenia smiled back, thinking about also telling Voe the truth..

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

“And then she goes, you can be my first patient or whatever!” Angel says angrily. “What does that even mean?!” He drank from a bottle of liquor he was sharing with Cherri and Bean.

Cherri laughed, “Looks like Voe traded up!”

The three sinners were laying on the floor in the living room, they thought it’d be cool to not use the couch; well Cherri and Bean did. Not Angel though, he laid on the couch behind them.

“I’ve been doin drugs all my life! She was fine with it when we met, now she’s gone all..shit I don’t know Mother Teresa,” He laughed, drinking from the bottle.

“Don’t hog it!” Cherri took the bottle drumming from it.

“She thinks just because she’s married she knows everything now!” The spider rolls his eyes. He looks over at Bean who has been quiet, “What’s with you Latte? You wanna go to the shrink?”

The friends laughed, “No! I just never thought about it,” Bean drank from the bottle. “Therapy wasn’t a thing, though I did have a great aunt who killed her husband and married the family dog, she might’ve been a good test subject!” She drank from the bottle.

“Speakin of husbands, I heard you and Vox were playin house last night y’all left Club 666,” Angel smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Bean blushed, “No no no! It wasn’t like that,” Angel and Cherri looked at her, not convinced. “Like nothing happened- well, not that night but in the morning- it wasn’t- I was just trying to help!” She couldn’t bring herself to talk about the embarrassing moment, he had texted her “hi” to which she responded but that was it.

“Holy shit!” Cherri gasped, “Did you guys fuck?!”

“No, we almost did but- ugh,” Bean covered her burning red face. “He had a meeting and told me to leave.”

“Awe shit,” Cherri rubbed her back. “I’m sorry babes.”

“Did you at least get ANY dick action?” Angel asked.

“I mean, we were dry humping,” She said in a small voice.

“Did it feel how Voe described?” He sat up, curious.

Bean’s embarrassment faded and was replaced by shock, “What? Why would Voe know what Vox’s dick feels like?”

Angel looked at Cherri, regretting asking the question. Well it was too late now, “Voe had an orgy with the Vees, according to them it was the hottest time they ever had in bed.”

“Oh.” Bean looked into space, trying not to let whatever feeling consume her. Was it anger? Hate? Betrayal? Sadness? Envy? She took a deep breath “Well that’s fine,” she gave them a fake smile.

“Ugh, men are the worst,” Angel crossed his arms.

“They most certainly fuckin are,” Cherri glared at the thought of testosterone. “Glad I don’t date anymore.” She looked over at a silent Bean, her head was down and she was staring at her phone. The one eyed sinner snatched, “Ya know what we should do?”

“What the fuck?!” Bean tried reaching for her phone, but was pushed back by Cherri.

“We should go out! Get fucked and fucked up!”

“Eh..I can’t I got plans, promised Husk a rematch at blackjack,” Angel declined.

“Boo!” His friend punched his arm. “That’s fine, we don’t need a man to have fun, right Bean?” Cherri grinned at her.

“Give my phone back,” Bean held her hand out.

“Only if you say yes to the best night of your life!”

Bean sighed, she was really doing this. It’s not like she had anything to do, and she did want something to take her mind off Vox.

“What time should I be ready?”

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

Alastor hummed a tune, walking through “Cannibal Town”, he waved to a few cannibals on the street, giving them a friendly smile. With everything going on with Bean, it took his mind off Vera for a while. He didn’t know what was going on with her, he didn’t want to assume the worst. Which was her getting bored with him and deciding to go off with the king of Hell, the thought of it made him go haywire, sometimes he couldn’t get over the fact that Voe had fucked Vox.

He sighed, finally making it to “Rosie’s Emporium.” Alastor fixed himself before going inside, as usual there was a line out the door and as usual Alastor went right in. He walked forward when he almost tripped over something, the Radio Demon looked down to see a small cannibal child looking up at him, she looked to be about 4 or 5, “Daddy?” She circled him. The children in Cannibal Town were always playing around but not inside, they were outside; where was this young one’s parents?

The little girl reached up to him, Alastor picked her up, moving her to the side. “Careful my dear, you don’t want to get stepped on.” He chuckled to himself.

“Now I know I’m gettin a little old, but is the Alastor standin in front of me?” Rosie emerged from the crowd with her cheery smile.

“In the flesh,” he kissed her hand.

“Don’t you try and butter me up young man,” The overlord chuckled. “Come come! There’s someone I want you to meet, and before you ask, I heard her accent and immediately thought of you.”

Rosie guided Alastor to the tea room, sitting there was just the woman he was hoping to see. The woman that owned Bean’s soul, she looked much different than when they first met. She had gotten better clothes and didn’t look frail and skinny like before, the woman was curvier. “Alastor, this is Ruby, we met at the Cannibal Sweet Shop a few weeks ago.”

“We’ve actually met before,” Alastor looked at the woman, “I see you’ve regained your overlord status.”

“I did, thanks to my children, their mother can now provide for them,” Ruby smiled.

“Did I mention that she’s a mother figure to all?” Rosie smiled warmly. “I find it sweet.”

“Mama?!” The same little girl came running into the room. She ran up to Ruby. “Mama?”

“Annalise!” Rosie picked her up. “What have I told you about running back here?!”

Ruby stared up at the child, “How precious,” she smiled. Annalise smiled back.

“Where are her parents?” Alastor asked.

“They were murdered during the last extermination,” Rosie said sadly. “She keeps lookin for her parents hopin they’ll show up, sorry for the damp mood let me go sit her down somewhere with a snack, you guys get to chattin,” she left with Annalise. Ruby waved at her.

“Awe how sweet, How tragic,” Alastor leaned in his hand, being dramatic. “Now as much as I love my dear friend, I am a bit busy today so I’ll get to it, you have something that I need.”

Ruby raised an eyebrow, “Mo chagren?”

Translation: I’m sorry?

“You have something that belongs to a friend of mine,” he put his hand over half his face, to let Ruby know what he was talking about.

“Oo..no,” She responded.

“Come now, you can’t silence the man, he needs to express himself-”

“He disobeyed me! He had one job and he decided to make stupid decisions!” She said angrily before going off and ranting in a different language.

Alastor put up his hand to stop her, Ruby looked at him like he was out of his mind. “I know you’re upset sha but he needs it, I think not connecting with his child is punishment enough don’t you think?”

“Did Eugenia send you?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I won’t lie to you but yes, she wants to talk to Donnie about Bean, and can’t since you have his mask,” he honestly didn’t know why she didn’t come here herself, but he remembered Eugenia was a coward.

“She doesn’t deserve to be a mother, I’ve got the situation under control ,” she waved him off.

“Really? Do you know where she is now?” The radio demon leaned on the table. Ruby remained silent, rolling her eyes. “What kind of mother would you be if you allowed your child to get hurt because of petty squabble,” he looked her up and down.

“She’s not letting up,” Rosie came back holding Annalise.

“That’s fine, I could be going,” Ruby stood up.

“Okay love, travel safe,” Rosie smiled.

Ruby booped Annalise on the nose, “Adyeu.” She said before leaving.

Translation: Good bye.

“Such a sweet lady,” Rosie said. “Oh no! She left somethin.” There was something wrapped in cloth.

Alastor took it, opening it, it was Donnie’s mask sewn back together, “Hm,” he smirked. “I’ll return this to her.” He stands up to leave, thinking about Bean, how she doesn’t have anybody; at least Alastor had his mother when he was alive. There was no one she could go to for anything, they always seemed to steer her in the wrong direction.

“Rosie,” he turned around. “I need a favor from you.”

“Of course!” Rosie smiled.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.”

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

We’ve all heard the saying “Misery loves company”, have you ever heard of “A Partygoer loves a Playmate”?

No?

Neither had Bean until tonight, Cherri had shown her around to clubs that she didn’t know existed, each one was sicker than the last; it was even better since they were drunk and had taken at least 4 pills each and a 5th one for good luck.

They were at “Consent” dancing and laughing their asses off.

“Is it bad that I can’t feel my face?!” Bean screamed over the music.

“Your face should be falling off!” Cherri yelled, laughing. “Isn’t this better than sulkin into your phone?!”

“Fuck yeah!” She danced, accidentally dropping the drink in her hand. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry!”

“That’s alright babe, no need to cry over spilled milk, I’ll get you another one,” Cherri said before walking to the bar.

Bean watched her friend disappear into the crowd, she started twirling in circles feeling the music. She felt light as a feather, like she could fly without wings if she wanted to. For a moment she stopped dancing, looking at her phone, there were some texts from Angel, Voe, and Charlie; all of them basically saying to make good choices. There were none from Vox, only the “Hi” from earlier, she began to feel that empty feeling again; then all of a sudden she didn’t feel much like partying.

The music started to feel like it was playing through a tunnel, and everyone moved in slow motion. Where was Cherri? Bean tried looking through the crowd, but stopped when she had the most painful headache. She looked up, noticing a man standing in the crowd, he wasn’t dancing or drinking with the others; he was just standing there, staring at her. His aura felt familiar, it paralyzed her, made her feel hopeless and afraid. The more she looked at the hooded sinner she realized why he felt so familiar.. Bean was unable to breathe.

“You-” before Bean could even try to make words, she was grabbed by someone making her jump back. She turned seeing Cherri Bomb.

“Whoa! What’s wrong?” She asked a frightened Bean. She hugged Cherri crying and hyperventilating, Cherri held her, “Did someone do something to you?” She was ready to clock anyone who wanted to mess with her friend. However, Bean said nothing, she kept trying to breathe and wouldn’t stop sobbing and shaking. “Let’s get you out of here.”

The duo left the club and sat on a bench outside, Bean was finally able to breathe, “Sorry,” she finally said. “I thought I saw someone I used to know.”

“Don’t be, I know how that is,” Cherri smiled sadly. “When I broke up with my ex I couldn’t sleep for two months, still can’t sometimes. He used to scare the crap out of me.”

“He won’t leave me alone,” Bean held her head, it felt like it would explode at any moment.

“Who?”

She was silent for a moment, finding it too hard to even say the words, “My mom wouldn't stop him..I was alone.” Bean could feel herself slip out of consciousness but was shaken awake.

“Hey!” Cherri shook her. “Wake up! I can’t carry you!”

“Okay, let’s go home,” Bean stood up but immediately fell on the ground. “Ow..”

“Shit,” Cherri looked at the demon before taking her by the arms and dragging her.

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

“Thank you, so much,” Eugenia took the mask from Alastor. “She sewed it.”

Alastor shrugged, “Probably because she felt guilty or she wants Bean to be happy.”

“I do make her happy, I’M her mother!” She said loudly. “Ruby is a parasite that sticks to people because she can’t live with the reality that she can’t ACTUALLY be a mother.” She was tired of hearing how Ruby was her mother, that woman did not raise Bean, she did!

Eugenia realized that Alastor was staring past her at something, “What?”

“You have an audience member,” his grin widened. She turned around and froze seeing a shocked and drunk looking Bean leaning against the kitchen wall.

“You’re my what?”

[marcynomercy]

Happy holidays! It's your Secret Santa recipient! <3 Can I get Astarion/Tav with an extra large side of angst. Thank you!

TOOK TIME, BUT ARRIVED!! Again a thousand apologies for the delay, I decided to post without the drawing I was doing not to delay more. (when the drawing is ready I post and link with hc). Now please enjoy your reading.

You are free now.

Synopsis: Calamity and Astarion get closer between conversations and confidences, he discovers a little about her past and he comes trying to drag her back with chains.

Warning: Explicit violence, blood and SA measurements.

It was another calm night at the camp and Calamity was sitting by the fire leaning against the wooden log while hugging her knees, her eyes fixed on the flames and the tinkling of the embers. Her mind wandered in short and quick thoughts about everything that was happening. She stayed like that, until someone woke her up with a light cold touch that made her startle slightly.

“Relax, darling, it's me.” Calamity looked and saw her vampire companion with a superb smile on his lips, a bottle of wine in one hand. “How about a little distraction in the middle of this boring night?”

“It wouldn't be a bad idea. What do you have in mind?” Normally, she would deny or make any insinuation disguised as sarcasm, but tonight she was more inclined towards anything that would take her away from her own mind.

“You know.” Astarion sits on the log next to her, handing Calamity the cup and serving the wine immediately. “A little wine and a good conversation.Come on, don’t look at me like that!”  

The young woman narrowed her eyes, still suspicious, but with a heavy sigh leaving her lungs she gave up her probably well-founded suspicions about the elf.

“Okay…Where do we start?”

“Let's see... How about the beginning?”

“You want to know if I was a happy child, don’t you?” She chuckled in sarcasm as she took a sip of the wine.

“If you want.” He hummed in response.

Calamity thought a little and... Well, he had told her a little about his past so it was only fair to do the same.

“I don't remember everything about my childhood. One day I woke up somewhere near Baldur's Gate next to my brother, we didn't remember anything except our names and we assumed our parents were dead or abandoned us. So we started living on the streets of the city, my brother used to steal. Well,we lived like this until we were 16. Sometimes I sold flowers and other times I sang to get some gold. That day I stayed on the streets until night because I hadn't managed to sell all the flowers in my basket and that's when a man approached me…” Calamity shivered. “He said that he had already heard me singing and that he liked my voice and that he wanted me to sing more for him that night...

Astarion furrowed his eyebrows in disgust.

“AND? What happened?”

“An elf helped me, don't remember exactly what he said to that disgusting man, but it was enough for him to leave. I am a half-elf, and elves aren’t really fond of people like me, but he was so kind and I let my guard down and allowed him to accompany me. It was really fun and when I said “goodbye” I gave him the last flower I had as thanks.”

Something seemed strangely familiar to Astarion. And he remembered. A long time ago, he helped a girl in the same circumstances.”

“No fucking way. “It was you?”

“What?” Calamity looked at him, confused by his sudden reaction.

“The girl! Gods, that was 100 years ago, but I remember helping a girl because I felt compassion and…”

“No way…” Her eyes widened in disbelief and surprise. “Were you…”

They both remained silent for a while, both staring at each other in shock.

Astarion completely recovered the memory of that day in his mind. He was wandering the streets looking for victims, when by chance he saw that scene, a man full of wicked malice in his eyes cornering a scared girl. He was disgusted and furious, perhaps, because he saw his own tormentor reflected in that man and felt sorry for that child. Maybe he could do something good? No. He was going to take her to his Master, that's what he planned after “saving” her, but it made him feel horrible especially because she was so... kind.

And now here she was, all grown up and being his “target” again.

“Why did you help me?”

Astarion blinked, returning to reality. “I... Well, let's say, I just had a moment of “compassion.”

“And then?”

Shit... She already knew how he took poor souls to his Master, of course she would connect the dots.

“Don't look at me like that, dear, yes I thought it would be good to take you with me..., but I didn't.” Her look was uncertain, he couldn't decipher whether it was anger or hurt that she was feeling.  “But well, I didn't do that and it's in the past.”

“And yet here we are, drinking wine and talking in front of the fire 100 years later. How ironic.”  She mocked with a clearly fake smile on her lips as she turned the glass again. “Do you want to know something interesting?” She didn't look at him when she asked that question, but he was watching her.

Calamity stared at the flames intensely. Concentrated, as her mind wandered through memories of the past.

Astarion watched her while she was distracted by her own mind so he took the opportunity to analyze her better, her expression was that of someone lost. A person who was aimless, usually hopeless souls like her were such easy targets, all they want is a little compassion and comfort.

Some sweet and kind words... And they went down well, but strangely Calamity didn't seem like that kind of person. He still remembers how she retreated from his advances... How scared she looked at the slightest touch.

“Tell me…” He waited for the answer, while keeping his eyes fixed on her.

“The day after that night you helped me was when the Guild took us.”

He was speechless.

“How did this happen?”

“My brother killed a man to protect me, we ran away so he wouldn't be arrested and it was then that an elf who would be my “Master” approached us, he said he saw potential in my brother and that he would be of great value to His guild... That's how we were “recruited”, I didn't want my brother to go alone because this situation only happened because of me so it was only fair that I did the same.

Oh... That look he knew well.

“Darling... What exactly happened to you after that?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“They said they would train us, my brother was under the tutelage of an drow called Morana and I was under the tutelage of the elf who found us... The training was more like torture, I spent 6 years without seeing my brother, we were completely isolated and whenever I didn't obey he said that my brother would suffer for it.” She clenched  her fists. “At first it was just these psychological games and, of course, the infernal rigid training, but as I grew up things started to change... His manners changed and so did his touches... “Her breathing became heavier with each word as if the air was heavier. “Then…”

The parasite in his brain stirred, he felt that uncomfortable sensation and then their minds connected.

He saw Calamity on her knees against the ground facing a man who demanded submission.He demanded that she obey like a loyal “dog” she was, so he pulled a chain that was attached to the collar around her neck. She fell and was forced to crawl towards him, as soon as she got close enough he ordered her to open his pants and “relieve” him. She undid the ties of his pants and once his length was free she engulfed him with her mouth, sucking him skillfully as she was taught. The tightness of the collar made everything even more suffocating than it already was, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes as she was forced to maintain eye contact with him.

She wanted to die.

This abuse would only end when he felt satisfied and when he finally shot her throat that session had not ended. The man ordered her to sit on his lap and so she obeyed, while keeping the collar around her neck tight to the point that it was difficult to breathe, he slid his hand up her thigh slowly and cruelly, she had no choice. Except to endure that horrible touch that would only end when he wanted.

The connection was broken and Astarion woke up from that vision, he didn't dare say because he already imagined what she went through.

“We never had regular sex” She said suddenly. “He had this strange and twisted obsession with me being a “virgin”, of course, that didn't stop him from finding other creative ways to fuck me.”

Astarion glanced at her, she had her face buried in her knees while his hands hugged her legs.

“I'm sorry…” Was all he could say, still with the vivid feeling of that memory in his own throat. “But you are free now. Can I... Get a little closer to you?”

“Yes…”

He sat next to her and was careful to silently ask for permission to touch her, Calamity just rested her head on Astarion's shoulder in response. He wrapped his arm around her back, hugging her gently to comfort her.

“In the end I made that night depressing.”

“Well, not so much, we still have wine to make things better".

She laughed and agreed with him, taking the glass she had left aside and drinking it completely, in complete silence they completely drank the bottle together.

“I remembered a better story, do you want to hear it to improve this atmosphere?”

“Darling, I'm all ears.”

  After that night Astarion began to hover around Calamity in a different way, he was softer and of course he never stopped teasing her or gracing her with his typical sarcasm..., but he was more protective in a certain way. When the party with the tieflings took place at the camp, to Astarion's surprise, it was she who suggested that they spend the night together, he accepted, but in the end the vampire didn't have the courage to sleep with her. Instead of a night of passion, they just had another conversation filled with wine and sincerity, he listened to her and supported her.

After that night their conversations became more frequent even when they left the camp, sometimes they were so random and other times they were something that only the two of them knew which left their companions intrigued. Once while walking Astarion asked if Calamity liked red ribbons when she questioned him confused, his response was:

“I saw you last night with your hair tied up with a red ribbon and I remembered that when I met you when you were a girl you were also wearing a red bow in your hair.”

She was very surprised that he had noticed this detail.

Now she was with Shadowheart doing a reconnaissance on the westernmost road near the mountain pass, they were checking if everything was safe since they were going to cross the next day. They decided to split into pairs, it was no surprise that Astarion was upset when it was decided that he would investigate further east with Karlach.

“So... You and Astarion.”

“Me and Astarion what?”

“Don't be shy, it's impossible not to see how much closer you've become, he hovers around you like a shadow and your conversations are a bit intimate, I'd say. I see that the night you spent together was very pleasant.”

“You're very curious today, Shadowheart.” She joked, teasing her friend. Calamity and Shadowheart became very close as well, Shadowheart's appreciation and trust for her was clear.

“I'm just expressing my “interest” in what I see, I understand the appeal that it has, but be sure to be cautious.”

“ I appreciate your concern, Shadowheart.”  An exchange of sincere friendly smiles and the matter closed.

Everything seemed to be fine, but suddenly Calamity pushed her companion and got in front of her, it was so fast that Shadowheart could only understand what had happened when they both hid behind the rocks. The cleric saw the arrow stuck in the shoulder of her friend who had protected her without hesitation.

“Shit... Some bandits?” Shadowheart was ready to fight, but was stopped by her companion.

“Shadowheart, listen to me, I want you to get out of here and go after Karlach and Astarion while I hold them back... Understand?”

“ Are you crazy?! I won't leave you here alone!”

“I won't argue! They are not mere bandits... They are from my Guild.” The cleric swallowed hard upon hearing this. “It's a group of assassins who are after me, they won't kill me, but they will kill anyone who is with me. Just you and I won't take care of them, so please go after them and leave me here! I will buy time and in the worst case I will leave a trail for you to find me.”

“No! Are you really thinking about letting yourself be captured?!”

“GO FAST!! You are rational, Shadowheart, you know this is for the best.” The cleric wanted to disagree, but she knew that her companion had a shred of reason in this whole situation and had more knowledge and awareness of the dangers than she did. Even grudgingly, Shadowheart agreed, but before going she took the arrow from her companion's shoulder and handed her a healing potion.

“Hold tight! I'll be back soon.” Calamity just smiled and nodded and didn't look back as she went to face her former companions so her friend could escape.                                            

“Well, everything is clear here... Don't make that face fancy boy, we'll meet them soon.” Karlach joked when he saw how Astarion was grumbling with irritated looks.

“This is all a waste of time! Of course there's nothing around here, we killed those imposter paladins and there's been no sign of gnolls since we killed that bunch.”

“Come on, Astarion, stop complaining Soldier is just doing what she thinks is right so that we can all have a safe crossing.”

“I'm not complaining, just being realistic, it won't be from this side that any threat will come to our “happy group”.

“Gods, this is all because you just want to be close with Caly.”  He rolled his eyes as if that was the biggest nonsense ever said. “Oh come on, stop acting like that, you two have been a couple for a long time.”

Astarion was ready to protest when they saw Shadowheart running towards them in distress... And she was alone.

Immediately anxiety him and he ran to the half-elf.

“Where is Calamity?!” He asked impatiently, almost aggressively.

“She... She's in danger! She told me to come after you to ask for help…”

“AND YOU LEFT HER ALONE?!” He grabbed Shadowheart's shoulders in an aggressive grip and his red eyes glowed with anger.

“Hey, calm down! Shadowheart what exactly happened?”

“We don't have time for explanations! All you need to know is that we were attacked by a group from Calamity’s Guild and she stayed behind to buy time, we need to go help her!”

Astarion's blood boiled, he immediately ran in the direction the cleric came from and didn't listen to anything else. He ran as fast as he could hoping he wouldn't be too late, then he heard Calamity scream.

Soon he saw her fighting injured and alone against five other figures dressed in black, he did not hesitate to attack.

His blow was accurate, his target didn't even have the chance to understand what happened when he fell dead to the ground. Astarion tightened his grip on the handles of his daggers and when he turned his vision towards Calamity she was on the ground and the man in front of her picked up something and attached it to her neck... It was a collar.

“NO!! GET THIS OFF OF ME!! LET ME GO!!” Calamity screamed as She struggled to escape his captor's hands.

“Stop barking, bitch! Master wants you back.” The man dressed in black with his face covered by a hood grabbed the chain and pulled it violently. Astarion was furious to see that scene and set out to kill them all, Karlach and Shadowheart joining him.

“Hey, Fangs! We'll take care of them, go after the Soldier!” Karlach shouted while hitting one of them with her ax.

“You do not need to say another word!” He responded by throwing one of his daggers at another of those hooded men before running to catch up with his companion and her captor.

That scene drove him crazy with rage, seeing her struggling to free herself, struggling while that bastard grabbed her neck and suffocated her. He let himself be carried away by pure animalistic instinct and jumped at them, causing them to fall to the ground giving Calamity the chance to move away... But she didn't do it.

She was as overcome with anger as he was, Calamity climbed on top of her captor and bit him. Yes, she bit him, the man screamed in desperation, fighting, but it was in vain, she seemed to be twice as strong at that moment. She didn't have fangs like Astarion, but her teeth did as much damage as any fang. She sank her teeth into his flesh, chewed it and made blood flow. The man struggled until in a few moments he became motionless, inert and finally dead. When her mouth released the corpse's neck, the first thing she did was spit out the flesh and blood that were still in her mouth, she was all covered in blood, her mouth, body... Her previously braided hair was now a mess after all the fight, she remained on top of the body and Astarion saw everything, he watched the whole scene perplexed.

He was surprised by the way she acted, as wild as a bloodthirsty vampire and her eyes... Opaque, cold and distant as if she weren't there.

“Darling…” He called her and then the sparkle returned to her eyes as well as the panic.

“Take it away from me... Take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, TAKE IT OFF!!” She began to scream and desperately pull the collar around her neck, scratching her skin in panic.

Astarion noticed the runes carved into the metal around her neck and immediately grabbed her wrists holding her back, she continued to scream and struggle repeating the same line.

“Take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off TAKE IT OFF!!”

“Calamity look at me!” He held her more firmly. “Calm down, breathe... It's okay. It's over, they're dead.” She looked at him, still in panic, shaking and tears welling in her eyes.

“T-Take it off... Take it off my neck... It's suffocating, I can't breathe, please take it off. Astarion... Please, please, I beg you, take this away.” She begged in tears.

 “Caly... We'll get this out of you I promise, but you know it's under a spell and we don't want to risk it. Let's get out of here first, okay?” She agreed shakily and in tears.  “Shh, shh... It's okay, you did it. You are free.” He released her wrists and then hugged her, she returned the gesture in a strong burst of relief, still with her in his arms he carefully moved her, taking her off the corpse.

“Let's go to camp, I... well?”  He asked, looking at the long chain. “We don’t want this to drag on.” She nodded and then Astarion took the chain and rolled it up to get into her hands. “No one will have this in their hands except you from now on.”

She looked at him in surprise, tears still streaming from her eyes, but she thanked him silently, squeezing the chains in her hands. Astarion kissed her face and wiped away her tears with sweet, calm kisses.He put his  arm around her  back and legs to carry her, Calamity in turn didn't say anything, just rested her head on Astarion's shoulder and let him carry her. Soon Karlach and Shadowheart joined them and the group hurried back to camp.

When they arrived at the camp, Astarion didn't explain anything, he just walked past everyone and went towards Calamity's tent and let Karlach explain everything, Shadowheart followed them and waited for him to accommodate her.

“I'll take care of her…” She said calmly.

“Okay, I'll get some towels and water.” Astarion got up and left the tent, leaving them alone.

But before going to get what he had said he went to talk to Gale first, he talked about the runes and asked him to be on standby. The wizard didn't question it, he just agreed, the entire camp understood that it was something delicate and everyone mobilized on their own.

  Wyll and Lae’zel were in charge of making the rounds with Karlach, the others remained in the camp, but stayed alert. Halsin also showed her solidarity by preparing some medicine and tea so that Calamity would feel calmer and more relaxed, that was what she needed at the moment, calm and support. Astarion, after leaving the towels and water with Shadowheart, walked away but remained in sight.

 He was obviously worried and was still angry about what happened, he wanted to say that if they hadn't split up this wouldn't have happened... But now it wouldn't make any difference.

Time passed and then Shadowheart left the tent and walked towards Astarion.

“She wants to see you.” He looked at her in surprise, but agreed and walked towards Calamity's tent.

 He lifted the fabric from the entrance and saw her sitting there in her sleeping bag, she was clean with her wounds treated and seemed calmer. Calamity was still drinking the tea Halsin had made for her.

“How do you feel, my dear?” He sat next to her.

“As if I were anesthetized... I don't really know…” She lowered her gaze to look at her reflection in the tea in the mug in her hands.  “I wanted to thank you for everything…” 

“No need, dear, we agreed that we would take care of each other, remember? And... I'm sorry we haven't gotten that thing off your neck yet, but we will. Now don't worry about that. Can I brush your hair? Sorry Darling, Shadowheart did a great job cleaning you up, but your hair is still a mess.”  She laughed softly and agreed with a sweet smile on her lips.

“Make yourself comfortable, Astarion.” The elf took the hairbrush and little by little he combed and untangled the strands, carefully and delicately while she finished drinking her tea. “ Astarion... Could you come a little closer?” He complied with her request and was surprised by a kiss.

The kiss was calm, shy, but sweet. Very sweet and kind.

 “Darling, I would love more kisses like this in the future.”

THAT IS IT!! Thank you so much for reading and sorry for any grammatical errors… English is not my native language and I am still learning correctly. Soon I will post more HCs of Caly and her brother!

[starfinss]

Wingman — Akaashi Keiji

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Summary: Bokuto heard you like Akaashi and decides to be your wingman. It goes about as well as it sounds.

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Rating: Fluff, humor (SFW)

Word Count: 1,779

“Do you like Akaashi?”

You choked on your rice at Bokuto’s sudden question, sending you into a violent coughing fit as you pounded on your chest in an attempt to clear your throat.

“I’m sorry, what?!” You said once you could speak, taking a large swallow of water from your bottle.

Bokuto looked blankly at you, owlishly, which was sort of his default expression. “I asked if you liked Akaashi.”

You sent a glance to Yukie, who seemed to be trying her best to look innocent.

“Who,” you said pointedly, and you watched Yukie’s facade break, just a smidge, “told you something like that?”

Bokuto inclined his head in said girl’s direction. “Her.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yukie, I told you not to tell anyone. And you told him of all people?”

A pause, then offense flashed across Bokuto’s face. “Hey!”

Yukie made a pained noise. “I’m sorry! It kind of just… slipped out. We were talking about how Akaashi never seems to date anyone, and I remembered what you told me and I just… I couldn’t stop talking!”

“No offense, Yukie, but Bokuto isn’t the best at keeping secrets.”

“Hey hey, I can keep secrets!”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, hands flattened against your temples.

“Okay, prove it by keeping this one. I haven’t told Akaashi because I’ve never seen him ever show me any sign that he feels the same.”

Bokuto took a large bite of his sandwich. “Just tell ‘im anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You sighed. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgusting. And I dunno, he could reject me?”

Bokuto swallowed loudly, a splitting grin growing on his face.

“Well, what about this, (L/N). How about I be your wingman? Ey?”

Your mind flooded with all the ways that idea could go wrong, and the bad outweighed the good.

“No. No, Bokuto—“

“Come on, (L/N), let me help! I know Akaashi better than anyone, we’re best friends! I wanna do this for you, come on, let me!”

Bokuto was relentless on and off the court, and he was hard to argue with. He did know Akaashi the best, you’d give him that, even while you were friends with the quiet setter as well. Being team manager with Yukie really did have its perks.

And Akaashi really was too pretty for his own good.

You could benefit from Bokuto’s help, even if something would undoubtedly go terribly wrong in the process.

“Fine,” you relented, resulting in loud cheers, the sounds drawing the attention of the people eating lunch around you.

You exchanged a weary look with Yukie.

“I hate you,” you said, and she smiled.

“I know.”

Your eyes flicked back to Bokuto, who was bouncing in his seat.

“I have a plan.”

You put another bite of rice in your mouth. If this was going to be as insane as you thought it was going to be, you’d need a full stomach.

“Tell me.”

————————

Bokuto’s plan was horrible.

The first one he gave you involved you just walking up and kissing Akaashi, but your use of some choice language in response to that made Bokuto change tactics.

“Go into a closet—“

“No.”

“I could lock—“

“Bo!”

He groaned. “Let me talk!”

“Then stop giving me plans that could result in me being utterly humiliated!”

“Fine! Then try this. Just get him alone after practice and ask him to walk you home.”

You frowned. “We do that every day anyway. We live two houses apart.”

“Toss him some sets!”

Yukie made a frustrated noise. “I’m going to lock you in the club room.”

You gave her a fearful look. “Me?”

“No. Bokuto. But maybe you if we can’t come up with something.”

You closed your now empty lunch box. “So you’re in on this too, now?”

She grinned. “I’ve always been in on this.”

Anger simmered in the pit of your stomach. “Did you tell him on purpose?”

“What?” Yukie said, then paled. “No. That really was an accident. All I’m saying is I support you.”

“Well,” you sighed, “that’s something, I guess.”

“Lock you in the club room!” Bokuto cried, and the expression on his face coupled with the triumphant tone in his voice made it seem very much like he’d struck gold.

You paused. “What?”

“I was joking, Bo,” said Yukie.

“No, but it could work!”

It could. But you were pretty sure Akaashi had a key, so it would be kind of useless to put him in a situation he could easily get out of. And, to further this, you also had a key. Bokuto pouted when you relayed this to him.

“Come on, (L/N), let me be your wingman!”

You rolled your eyes. “Isn’t that what I’m doing? All you’re giving me is stuff like ‘lock yourself in a closet.’”

“It could work!”

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, and you stood up, stretching your arms above your head.

“I’ll see you guys at practice,” you said, “text me if you get any new ideas.”

————————

Practice was somewhat of a nightmare. Of course, it went as well as it usually did, the gym full of Bokuto’s victorious shouts and Akaashi and the other club member’s sarcastic quips. But that wasn’t the problem. Every time something needed to be fetched or the water needed to be refilled, either Yukie or Bokuto, usually with matching grins, suggested you go with Akaashi. Akaashi, of course, shut this down fairly quickly since he had no need to assist you with such menial tasks.

But Bokuto didn’t stop there, no. It was too much to hope a hurricane would stop in its path.

Because during a break, Akaashi approached you.

“Is there any reason why Bokuto is constantly asking me to compliment you?”  He said as he dried his face with a towel.

You furrowed your eyebrows, dread sinking into the pit of your stomach. “He’s doing what?!”

“Asking me to-“

“No, I heard you. I just can’t believe he’s doing that.”

Akaashi blinked, oblivious to the situation. “Is there a problem, (L/N)?”

You sighed. “Yeah. No, I don’t know. This is a mess.”

From what Akaashi told you, Bokuto had started showering you with random compliments, then asked Akaashi if he agreed.

“I just want to know why he’s doing that. Do you think he has a crush on you?”

You shook your head. “No. This is… It’s something else. I don’t really want to talk about it, sorry Akaashi.”

He looked worried all of a sudden. “Is there something wrong?”

Your eyes went wide. “No! I’m fine, really. I just— I can’t talk about it.”

“Why?” Bokuto said, strolling over, and you deflated, “do you not trust him?”

“Bo,” you warned, speaking between gritted teeth, “not. Now.”

“Isn’t this what winging is?”

Akaashi looked deeply confused. “Winging? What is that supposed to mean? Did you make up a word for spiking?”

Bokuto seemed affronted. “No! I’m her… Her man wing—“

“It’s called wingman, Bo,” you muttered.

He was going to give you away.

“Tell him, (L/N), he thinks you’re pretty, smart-“

Akaashi blinked. “You asked me what I thought about that, Bokuto.”

Bokuto faked shock. “So you don’t really think those things?”

“I never said I didn’t.”

Bokuto gave a squawk you could only assume was a cry of victory. “See? See, (L/N) Akaashi thinks you’re pretty! You gotta tell him, tell him now!”

You looked at Bokuto with pure murder in your eyes, and he seemed to falter.

“Tell me what?!”

“Akaashi!” You cried, “talk to me outside, would you?”

You looked sharply at Bokuto.

You buried your head in your hands once you were outside. “ I might as well just come out and say it, because we both know Bokuto isn’t about to quit. That massive meathead is trying to be my wingman because he found out I like you today.”

You sent Yukie a murderous look as she passed the open door, raising your voice a bit as you spoke. “Because someone told him.”

She looked sheepish.

You closed the door, only breaking eye contact with her when you couldn’t keep in anymore due to the new barrier between you.

“Well, that’s fine,” Akaashi said, “I like you, too.”

You worried your lip between your teeth. “I understand if— Wait what?”

Akaashi looked at you blankly. “I like you too, (L/N).”

You were at a loss for words. “You never gave me any signs that you liked me too.”

Akaashi leaned against the door. “I walk you home every night.”

You frowned. “We’re literally neighbors.”

“That’s beside the point. Why do you think I bring you breakfast to eat while we walk to school?”

You blushed. “I thought you were being nice.”

“No,” Akaashi stepped forward, letting his hands fall to your shoulders, “no, (L/N). I like you. You’re an incredible person, and I thought I was making myself clear with my advances.”

Well, you decided, you were a dumbass.

“Wanna… Go get something to eat sometime?” You asked, voice quiet, and Akaashi nodded.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He kissed you, and you swear you forgot how to breathe, that you forgot your own name. You sighed softly, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. Akaashi was an intense young man, and kissing him, even if it was simple and innocent, was just as intense. You felt him wrap his arms around your waist with a heartbreaking tenderness, nose brushing yours as his lips pressed and ghosted against your own.

It was cold outside, but you didn’t care, not when his lips were so soft and gentle.

The door opened abruptly and you heard a shout that could only have belonged to Bokuto. You felt Akaashi smile against your mouth before he pulled back.

“I am the best wingman!” He cried, “Hey, hey, hey!”

You laughed. It felt good to laugh, especially when Akaashi was still holding you so close.

“You are, Bo,” you confirmed, resulting in more cheering.

“Akaashi got a girlfriend!” He shouted as he ran inside, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Is that what you want to be?” Akaashi asked, and you nodded.

“Yes.” You were unable to hide your grin.

“Then it’s official.” Akaashi kissed your nose, then stepped back.

“I will hold your hand when we walk home.”

You blushed at his bluntness. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Nice pun!” You heard Yukie shout, and you groaned.

“I hate both of you!”

You didn’t. But the smile that ghosted Akaashi’s lips as you said the words was worth it.

So was the burning kiss he gave you after practice, and the feeling of his hand in yours as you walked home.

Maybe having Bokuto’s help, as disastrous as it had been, wasn’t so bad after all.

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 6)

(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4) (chapter 5)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: SMUT!!!! IT’S HAPPENING!!!!!! (oral f receiving and a creampie), other than that a touch of angst and some more flufffff

The sunset out the window had crossed the horizon; only its reflections on the darkening orange sky illuminated the room.  As you stepped around your bedroom, Sebastian following close behind, you were suddenly embarrassed by how messy you’d left it— oh god, had you left a bra strewn across a chair where he could see it?

However, when you looked over at him, he had focused on your nightstand.  Your wedding ring was there, discarded and lonely beside the lamp.

“Oh, that,” you sighed.

“Sunteți căsătorit?” he asked, picking it up and turning to look at you again.  You approached him, admiring how small the ring looked in his hand.

“I was married,” you explained, “my husband… he was having an affair.”

You felt so nervous to say this stuff out loud, even though you knew it would fall on deaf ears.  But that was the liberating part: you’d still never told anyone what happened, and now you could speak it aloud without worrying about his judgment.

“My husband was sleeping with my sister,” you clarified.  What a disgusting thing to have to say, but so nice to be able to say it to someone.

He looked at you with that look of silent incomprehension, waiting for an explanation he could understand.

You grabbed the ring from his hand and slipped it onto your ring finger.  You’d only just recently gotten used to how it felt to not wear it.

You showed off your ring-adorned hand and he nodded.  Then, you slipped it back off your finger and tossed it behind you onto the floor.  

“Make sense?” you asked him with a smile that barely stopped you from choking up.

“Da,” he nodded, “cred că am ideea.”

“I always wondered if she was prettier than me.  She was so jealous when I got married first…” you remembered, eyes beginning to water.

“Shhh,” he soothed, reaching up and running a thumb over your cheek.  “Soțul tău trebuie să fi fost un prost care să te dea drumul.”

“Hold me a little longer, won’t you?” you requested.

Without knowing what you said, he did it anyway, wrapping an arm around your waist.  The thumb on your cheek moved down and traced over your bottom lip.

“Esti perfect,” he mumbled.

You chuckled quietly, not sure what he was calling perfect— but if he meant this moment, you agreed.

“Sunt îndrăgostit de tine,” he added, quieter.

“I wanted to never fall in love again,” you admitted.  “You’re making it very difficult.”

He leaned in closer, very slowly; it was his way of asking permission without words.  You nodded and let your eyes flutter shut.  Finally, you felt his lips brush against yours, and all at once you were pulling him closer and kissing him back.

You couldn't think of the last time you had been kissed like this.  Mostly because you weren't really trying to.  All you wanted to think about was him.

It was so gentle at first— relaxed, patient— and it was you who ventured a little further, hugging him tighter and softly moaning against his lips.  That was enough to encourage him to deepen the kiss, his tongue subtly pressing forward and tangling with yours. You moaned again, already lost in it, memorizing the way his body felt pressed against yours.

All of a sudden, a hunger began to pang in your chest and you weren't satisfied anymore, both of you seeming to become more desperate at the same moment.  A strong, calloused hand reached down and lifted your leg to wrap around his waist.  You jumped up and let him catch you as you wrapped around his torso and clung onto his shoulders.

“Fuck, Sebastian,” you mumbled against his lips.

A purring growl echoed from his throat as he grinned.  “Spune asta din nou.”

“Take me to bed, please,” you begged.  Even if he couldn’t tell what you were saying exactly, you really hoped that your enthusiasm was coming through, along with your nefarious intentions.

He kissed you again, more desperately this time, as his hands moved down to your ass— hopefully not just to keep you from falling.

You fell back onto the bed with a squeal of fear, which quickly shifted to laughter.  He laughed too as he climbed on top of you and started to kiss your neck.  You whimpered and reached down to his jeans, hoping it wouldn’t be too presumptuous to start working open his belt.  He made a noise that was almost like a moan and bucked his hips forward into your hands.  Just as you were about to get them open enough to pull them down and finally get your hands on the cock you’d been dying to see and touch and feel for so long, he grabbed your wrists and pushed them away, holding them above your head.  You worried you had done something wrong, misinterpreted how far he wanted things to go— but guilt was replaced with anticipation as he started to open your robe, kissing down your chest as the skin was exposed.  He deviated from his path to gently grab one of your breasts, which normally weren’t so sensitive but were suddenly very interested in everything going on.  You moaned as he swirled his tongue over your nipple before finally sucking it into his mouth and teasing it with his teeth.

“Oh god,” you moaned, feeling his lips curl into a smile against your skin before he moved on, kissing down your ribs, all over your stomach, over your hips…

He grinned as his fingers slipped under the top of your panties, but he didn’t pull them down yet, instead turning his head to kiss the inside of your thigh.  “Vreau să te gust,” he murmured.  “Pot sa?”

You weren’t sure what he was asking for but you nodded furiously; you were so worked up at this point that almost anything he could want from you would be given willingly.  Still, it couldn’t have turned out much better than it did when he slid your underwear down your legs and dipped his head down between them, grinning before licking a wide stripe right through your folds.  You moaned and clutched at the sheets while he did it again, and again, and oh fuck— he was doing something with his tongue that made your whole body jerk with shock.

“Se simte bine?” he asked as you craned your head up to look down at him, his voice suddenly so much deeper and rougher in a devastatingly sexy way.

“You know I love when you speak Romanian, but now would be a really great time to shut up and keep going,” you groaned as your head fell back onto the pillow again.  He chuckled softly before getting back to work, laving your clit with his tongue and gripping your thighs tightly so you couldn’t squirm away.

Even on your own, you had never moved so quickly towards orgasm before.  Then again, you couldn’t exactly do this to yourself, could you?  Apparently it was exactly what you needed.  Your fingers slid into his hair, pulling it probably a little too hard as you felt your body start to tighten and tense up with impending pleasure.

You were unable to stop yourself from babbling even if you knew it meant nothing to him.  “Fuck, don’t stop, please,” you begged.  He moaned against you, as if to answer, but didn’t stop; thank god.

His hands gripped your thighs tightly, holding you down as your body tried to squirm away to escape the intensity barraging your senses.  Your moans sounded inhuman, totally unlike yourself, echoing around the walls of your room until you bit down on your lip to muffle them— he pinched your leg just enough to make you yelp, an apparent instruction not to censor yourself.

“C-close,” you shuddered, looking down at him quickly before letting your head fall back again, “so close…”

He nodded against you: was it approval, encouragement?  You couldn’t be sure, but it made you feel a bit better about letting go and tugging his hair as your back arched dramatically.

“Yes, yes, oh god, fuck— yes!”

Everything in you seemed to snap into reality all at once as your orgasm rocked your body and made a stuttered groan tear from your throat.  You felt your hips gyrating against his face, and you were helpless to stop it if you wanted to (which you didn’t).

Just as you were afraid it would be too much pleasure for your body to take, he pulled back with a gasp— clearly he’d been forced to hold his breath for that last bit, which made you feel a little guilty.  Your face burned even though you weren't exactly embarrassed… just slightly overwhelmed.  He grinned up at you while he caught his breath, and his lips looked exceptionally full when they were glistening with your arousal, as beautifully filthy as it was.  You’d had your fair share of sex in your life, but never had you done something so thoroughly erotic, if that was possible.

He sat up and slipped his hands around your waist, pulling you up, too, until you were eye to eye, slotting his lips against yours again.  The taste of what he’d done to you was matched in its perfection only by the way he kissed you— rough, needy, with his hands wrapping around the back of your neck and tangling into your hair.  You had to break the kiss for fear you’d lose yourself in it, pulling back and looking up at him before reaching into his jeans.

"Vă rog să-mi spuneți că pot să te fut," he sighed as he watched your hand slip beneath his belt.  Both of you moaned when your hand wrapped around his cock; it was thick and throbbing in your palm, and the skin was shockingly silky when you began to stroke him (as best you could) in his pants.

Clearly having a similar thought to yours, he quickly pushed his jeans and boxers down, giving your movements more freedom— as well as giving you a better look at it.

"Fuck," you murmured to yourself as you watched your hand move along the curved outline of his length, admiring the way each stroke made a little more precum gather at the tip, and pushed the skin up over the very bottom ridge of his thick head.

You ran your thumb gently along that ridge and felt his body jerk a little.  Looking up, you found that he was watching your face; his eyes were exceptionally piercing in that moment, half-lidded and sparkling in the soft light from your bedside lamp.  They were so captivating that you didn’t notice he was laying you down until your back hit the plushy mattress, his face hovering above yours, scanning it; searching for something.

You nodded, and he smiled.  Seemed he found what he was looking for: your approval.  He guided your hand off of his shaft where his own took its place, guiding the swollen head through your folds.  When he found your entrance, he leaned down and kissed you again, significantly gentler than before, as he ever-so-slightly pushed forward.

You gasped, trying instinctively to suppress your reaction, but how could you when he was staring right now at you, studying your face as he slowly filled you?

When the head was all the way inside, it was already a stretch but you powered through with a deep breath.  However, the next inch made you yelp and your hand shot up to his forearm, gripping it tightly.

“Ar trebui să mă opresc?” he asked softly.

“I’m okay,” you sighed, nodding gently, “I’m okay, don’t stop, just—”

He pushed forward further and though your fingernails dug into his skin a bit and you forced your eyes shut, you let out a loud, slow moan.  When you opened your eyes, he was looking back at you with an indescribable expression— fiery might be the word, but even that wouldn't be enough.

Afraid he wouldn’t move again, you wrapped your legs around his hips and guided him deeper; this time it was his turn to gasp slightly, his mouth hanging slack before he let his eyes fall shut and briefly bit his lip.  

He nestled his face into your neck, roughly shoving the last inch into you: it made your walls clench in shock, but it made you even wetter, too.

“Așa de cald,” he hissed as he bottomed out, “și strâns.” 

“You feel so good,” you whispered— you couldn’t be any louder than that because you’d forgotten to breathe, but a gasp brought air back into your lungs when he slowly pulled back only to push back in again.

Your hands clutched at his tanned, muscular shoulders, your body clinging to his for dear life each time he gave you another measured thrust.  The sting of the stretch faded into a feeling of fullness, pushing deeper into you than anything ever had before.  His pattern was steady, though you could feel him holding himself back in the way his hips stuttered before they met yours, like he was trying not to go too deep.  It was hard to imagine how it could even be any deeper, but you wanted to feel all of him even if it broke you.

“More,” you begged, tightening your legs where they held his body close until he had no choice but to grind his hips against yours, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix and making your eyes water.  He moaned lowly, finally getting the message and started to slam into you with more ferocity.  It was still patient, almost as if there was  thoughtfulness to his movements, but a bit more aggressive— even moreso when he bent down to tease your nipples with his tongue and teeth.  “Fuck, Sebastian,” you sighed, but you stopped yourself before you said the next words that began to form on your tongue: Yours.  All yours.

He wouldn’t know what they meant, but you would.  You would know they weren’t empty promises, sweet nothings, or otherwise inconsequential dirty talk.  

So, you made a much simpler promise that you knew you could keep:  “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you blurted out, realizing it at the same time you announced it.  You were a little embarrassed at how quickly it had come to this, but you were still sensitive from the last one, and the look on his face as he leaned down and sucked on your neck didn’t seem to be especially composed either.

“Ești aproape?” he groaned against your ear.  You could only think of one thing he could be asking about at this moment— and even if your guess was wrong, there was only one response you were coherent enough to give anyways.

“Yes, I’m close, I’m so close,” you informed him breathlessly, “I’m gonna come, Sebastian, oh my god— come inside me, please… it’s okay to come inside...”

“Înăuntrul?” he asked, more desperate than before as his voice came out almost hoarse.  God, you hoped you were talking about the same thing.

“Yes,” you moaned, “yes, inside, please…”

His moans became louder as he breathed in sharply through his teeth, growling a little as he spoke.  “Te voi face al meu,” he mumbled, and you didn’t catch anything after that but it sure sounded like he was swearing which you very much related to.  

At the same moment your second orgasm sent shocks through your entire body, his cock flexed against your walls and released inside you.

He wasn’t even done coming when he kissed you one last time, his weight sinking on top of yours and pinning you to the bed.  Just before his body threatened to crush yours, he sighed and rolled off of you, pulling you into his arms.  Only then did you realize you were smiling uncontrollably, unable to fight it even with exhaustion spreading over your limbs and making your eyelids heavy.

“You’ll stay here tonight, right?” you asked sleepily, nuzzling into his chest and listening to him slowly catch his breath.  He leaned down and kissed your forehead, your cheek, your ear, repeating the same words over and over though you didn’t know what they meant.

Sleep overtook you quickly; his arm draped over your chest was like a weighted blanket, his whispers like a much sexier version of a white noise machine.  It was the best you’d slept since you came to Hungary.  Really, it was the best you’d slept in all your life.

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IX

Word Count: 3,087 Warnings: PTSD. Children. Fluff. Angst. Emotions. Dialogue heavy bullshit. Author's Note: Welp... this is it, y'all. I posted the first chapter of this on March 4, 2021, and it's coming to a close today on April 5, 2021, and I'm... a goddamn mess. I'm not ready to let these characters go, both the TF boys and my own character in Leah. I really appreciate all your kindness and encouragement throughout writing this, my whole heart belongs to you. Thank you, I hope you love this as much as I love you.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

Her room is painted like a sunrise. He remembers the first time he went up there, like it was the first breath he ever took. All rising pinks and melting blues.

He wanted her to feel that freedom from the beginning.

Leah’s hands climb his back, a kiss pressed to the hot skin between his shoulder blades as he dips to pluck his peaceful little girl out of slumber.

“Baby, let her sleep.”

But he’s shaking his head, careful with hers in his hand, “she can sleep later, I need her with me now.”

“Hmm,” she hums, turning him to guide him back to their bedroom, “keep that enthusiasm.”  

Their shuffle is quiet, Luna’s big eyes slipping back to sleep nestled into her fathers shoulder.

He’s been home for over half a year and as he crawls back into bed, baby and wife clinging to him, part of him still can’t believe it. That after everything he told her, she let him stay. That, like tonight, she’s soothed the new nightmares like the old. That he celebrated Christmas with them, Luna’s first.

That he watched her lift herself up and take her first steps. That after all he had done, those first steps were towards him.

That he helped blow out the candles that he helped light, on the cake he helped make for the little girl who has her daddy’s eyes. His dimple. His smile.

One hand splayed across each of their backs, he’s talking to Leah but directing it at Luna when her bright brown eyes open again to find his.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers, Leah’s soft hand falling on his under her small back, “I’m sorry that mama and papa woke you up.”

She reaches a tiny hand up to his face and he melts into the small touch of her, his heart swelling at the unbelievable luck he has in chances granted again and again when a little, “papa,” tumbles forward in the softly lit room.

He feels Leah jump and his eyes snap to hers before they both fall back to Luna, just over one year.

“She just sa—“

“Say it again, baby,” Leah coos, tears spilling over Frankie’s eyes.

She doesn’t understand but as she grabs for him, the small voice repeats, “papa,” and he didn’t know his heart could feel so full despite all the compounding moments of fullness she’s brought to him. That they both have.

He bites his lip while looking into Leah’s glassy eyes and knows that her heart is just as swollen in this moment and all the others.

“The next one’s first word will be mama,” his hand finds the small swell of her lower belly, “I promise.” —————

She presses a coffee cup into his hand before taking a seat across from him on the living room floor, baby toys and blankets strewn across the space between them.

“What happened?”  

He takes a deep breath, finding the words he spoke out loud to his team in Lorea’s mansion, “A serious fuck up.”

“I figured that much, Francisco, but what happened?”

So he tells her and she lets him.

He tells her about the seventeen grand of Santi’s own money. How he promised himself no live fire and let himself and his desperation to give her and Luna and himself the best lead him into shattering his soul again. Ripping it up as life drained from the eyes of his fellow human beings and how he didn’t even have the protection of a flag on his shoulder to ease a semblance of that pain. How even if they were bad guys, they weren’t his bad guys to worry about.

He tells her about the helicopter crash, the result of his own greed for the money and for a lack of conflict led to more loss and conflict. How he doesn’t know if he’s the one who fired first on that village but he knows he fired, an automatic weapon slung across his shoulders as easily as the diaper bag he carries through the grocery store for her.

He tells her about the crumbling mountainside, how all he saw at the bottom looking down was himself never coming home to his girls. How that’s when something within him finally snapped, when he and Will silently decided to take the reigns from Tom and Santi’s hands.

He tells her about the fire, burning hundreds of thousands of dollars to keep warm in the freezing air that wrapped around the Andes. About the gunfire that followed them through the rocks in the morning sun.

About standing over Tom’s dead body, the relief and guilt crashing inside him like a warm front meeting a cold one. How he thinks he’ll feel those both every day that he wakes because, unlike the survivor’s guilt easing through you on active duty at the knowledge that this just happens sometimes, this time was different.

He tells her that, after all of that, he threw millions of dollars down a snowy ravine in the middle of Peru where no one would ever see it again, not even his girls who needed it so much because he realized it wouldn’t be fucking worth it for them to have it if it meant not coming home.

He tells her how he almost shot that kid in the jungle. How he would’ve shot every kid standing between him and the boat to get home to his own.

He tells her that he thinks, at the end of it all, Santiago and his plan ended up doing more damage to that country than not.

She listens intently, focused wholly on him. Her face never breaks but he can see the cogs turning behind her eyes, trying to take it all in. Trying to understand.

“I understand if you want me to leave, if you never want to see me again,” he reaches out for her hand, a shiver of shock running through his spine when she doesn’t pull away from him.

Blinking as the words catch up with her, her head shakes, “I just got you back, Francisco, you promised me you wouldn’t leave again so why the fuck do you think I want you to go now?”

“Because what I did is unforgiv—“

“It’s not, there are terrible men in this world who do worse everyday,” he sees the slight sheen of tears coat her lashes, “and you helped stop one of them.”

“There will be others to take his place,” he says around a sip of his drink, his coffee gone cold in the spaces between all his words.

Her hand gives a squeeze to the one it holds, “there will always be others to take his place.”

His breathing evens out, anchored in his chest by a warmth he doesn’t deserve, “there's something else you need to know.”

He tells her about the five million dollars they were able to make it to the boat with, “we signed it all over to Molly and the girls. Will and Benny and I, we decided to do so while Santi was sleeping. We figured, ya know, at least we were coming home. It wasn’t really money we were losing since it was never ours to begin with, Tom’s family lost everything and they didn’t even know it.”

The tears do come now, streams running down his face, “I couldn’t stop thinking about how close you came to losing everything and not even knowing it too.”

His stunted words around the hiccups in his throat draw Luna’s attention, her babbles reaching out to him the way she tried to soothe Leah’s over the weeks prior. Their attention is on her now, eyes wide as she lifts herself with the couch for leverage.

She toddles one step towards his still shaking body before tumbling forward, his hands dropping the now empty coffee cup and Leah’s hand to catch her.

He pulls her small body close, hiding his face in the crook of her neck to inhale the scent of baby lotion. As she giggles in his ear, he looks up to Leah’s soft face, “the boys and I still took three hundred thousand.” —————

“You're fucking insane,” Deana doesn’t quite whisper into Leah’s ear, “a whole ass baby with another one barely even a year old, have you heard of a condom?”

“How many mimosas did you have already, D?”

Kristyn struggles with her key in the door, a large bag in hand, “judging by the slight slur, I’m going with about three so far.”

“Fuck off, K,” she points, turning back to Leah, “I'm just saying that if that big goofy idiot husband of yours goes on another of his boy’s trips, I will kill him this time.”

Her fingers are still quoting around the air as the threat falls around them, Frankie’s attention at the other end of the room grabbed away from the pureed carrots of Luna’s lunch.

“Well,” Kristyn interjects, holding the bag forward, “that’s why I come bearing the gift of one Benjamin Miller, he couldn’t be here because of a boy’s trip.”

“What do you mean?”

Leah looks back at Frankie, his eyes now turned to the conversation. She sees the pain and confusion there, he didn’t know.

Kristyn follows Leah’s gaze before looking back at the older sister in front of her, “he promised me this was his last one and he’s sorry it had to take place during your baby shower but,“ she holds the bag out again, “he says you’ll like this one.”

“It's not a shower,” Leah rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kristyn interjects, “a sprinkle. Whatever.”

“It’s not even that since, ya know,” she looks down at the tiny bundle in her arms, “he's already here.”

“A birthday present then,” she beams, “Benny says he’ll set it up when he gets home.”

Frankie’s laughter finds them now, choking around the baby food he’s trying to convince his stubborn daughter of—she’s not and she’s learned how to voice that disgust with all thanks given to her Uncle Benny.

“Baby, it’s another military surveillance camera.”

Kristyn laughs, “yeah, our whole house is strung up with them at this point but they come in handy to watch the neighbors since I’m nosy.”

“When did they leave?” His voice is small, a slight worry behind it.

Kristyn lets out a breath, “about four hours ago, he made me promise not to tell you until he was gone.”

He just nods his head, a silent clock beginning to tick in his brain. —————

It’s been two weeks since he heard from Ben or Will.

The boys have been here day in and day out since they came home last year, always were before that and even more so now that all they truly had was each other and the families they were making with and around each other.

Benny ran through Kristyn’s apartment complex screaming her name so loud as he started to bang on her door that he was met with a baseball bat. Now that idiot was going to be his brother because the sight she was met with was one of Benjamin Miller on his knees with a ring in his hands.

They gave them space with the baby’s arrival, small and short visits until Leah felt ready to have them all over again. He spoke to them that morning as he shaved the night’s stubble away, they talked like they were coming by and how they couldn’t get enough of their new nephew. How they were getting him the best present.

Frankie runs his forefinger and thumb along his mustache now, the compromise of facial hair he settled on. He didn’t want his full and sparse beard but he also felt lighter at the way Leah laughed into him with every brush of his lips.

He’s pacing the living room, bouncing the baby as Leah and Luna nap upstairs. There's only silence and the soft gurgling of a newborn when the quiet knock comes.

Already close to the entryway, he closes the distance and whispers a silent prayer to himself. A prayer that this isn’t bad news. That this is Will or Benny, not using their keys out of courtesy to the newness of little life inside his home.

He opens the door and is met with the tired eyes of Santiago Garcia.

“Hey, Frank,” he says. All bravado of his being seeped from him and replaced with, what sounds like, apology.

He adjusts his son in his hold, ushering the shorter man in so the warmth of the house doesn’t keep seeping out, “I thought you were in Australia.”

“Yeah, well,” he turns to face Frankie again as the door closes, “I make some really shit decisions sometimes.”

Frankie scoffs, half a laugh hidden in the sound. He’s not wrong but he’s not exactly right either.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He’s walked through to the kitchen, the shorter man falling in pace beside him, “we’re a dry household right now with the baby and my therapy bu—“

“Nah, Fis-Frank,” he stutters, “just came to talk to you. And Leah. She around?”

“She’s resting but I can pass along a message if I like it.”

Santi reaches into the leather folder he always carries around and produces a booklet, the one from the lawyer in St. John’s.

But different, a different cover and date, a different name stamped across the front.

“The boys sent me to give you this alone, said we needed to talk about a few more things than just this. Said I needed to apologize to you and to your wife, that I owed you that for so much but especially roping you into that shit last year.”

“Water under the bridge,” Frankie replies softly, changing direction to move through to the living room, “I gave up on an apology a long time ago and Leah never expected one, but nobody’s mad at you.”

Frankie carries the bassinet into sight from the kitchen before walking back, “what is this, Pope?”

“It’s your cut, we went back.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re stupid and greedy and we fucked ourselves up getting it in the first place so we figured we’d go back and we figured we fucking owed you.”

Frankie squints at the shorter man, searching his eyes for the hint of a joke he’s not laughing at. There is none. His cold brown stare is dead serious.

“This is my apology to you, Fran—“

“Frankie,” Leah’s voice filters into the room, he can hear her sleepy shuffle as she pads across the carpet now, “did you feed Santiago while I was asleep or should I?”

“I fed him, baby,” he calls over his shoulder.

He looks back at the man who helped shape his life, tears welling in his eyes, and hears Leah talking about ordering Chinese for dinner as she crosses the threshold but he doesn’t hear her. He can’t hear anything over the squeeze around his midsection, Santi’s quiet strength taking all of his air and senses.

He lets go as quickly as he grabbed him, Leah’s presence heavy in the room now and he crosses the room to gather her in his arms, a kiss pressed to each cheek and then her hair. He’s careful not to hug as hard as he had Frankie, conscious of her still healing body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between them, “for everything I’ve done and everything I wasn’t around for.”

She’s trying to catch her breath, trying not to cry herself, “it's oka—“

“I should’ve been here for you guys.”

Her small hand comes up to pat the curls, a little more gray than a year ago, “you are now.”

He pulls away from her, a hitch in his voice as he says, “can I hold him?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “but you gotta wash your face and hands, no tears or snot on my baby.”

He mumbles to himself about how that makes sense as he moves to the sink, fumbling over the soap in the holder as he shakes with nerves.

She makes her way across the kitchen, wrapping her still sleepy being around that of her wide awake husband. The low lying winter sun is filtering through the windows, bathing everything in soft, warm light.

She sees the golden cover of the booklet on the counter and taps it, “what's this?”

Daylight Family Trust is stamped across in big bold words.

“That was the boy’s trip,” he whispers, “that’s our cut.”

He watches her as she slowly reaches for the document, the one that explains how this all works and looks between the men.

“How much?”

Santi rips a paper towel from the roll, “about thirty-five million.”

Frankie holds her as her knees start to give out but she’s still looking at Santi, she’s still looking for the joke he never made.

“Daylight's your call sign, you know,” he says cooly, “all the wives get one too, did he ever tell you?”

She shakes her head, looking at her husband now and thinking of all the times that very word fell from his lips.

“On our last real deployment,” Pope continues, “he was flying as the sun was setting and the sky was pure gold over the desert—“

Frankie’s eyes never leave hers, arms tight around her now.

“—he said it reminded him of the way the gold flakes in your eyes reflect the sunlight back at him, he called you Daylight until he got home and shed the callsigns altogether.”

“Frankie?”

He presses his lips into her forehead, his hand a heavy weight on her lower back that says, I’m right here.

“Your daughter has the same golden flakes in her eyes, like you, Daylight.”

Frankie runs his thumb along the swell of her cheek, "all I wanted to do last year was get home to you both, all I wanted was to make it right and see that reflection of light back at me through you both again.”

He leans down to softly press his lips to hers before nuzzling his nose into her hair, “our son has them too, the same gold in his eyes, it was the first thing I said to Ben when I walked out of the delivery room.”

"It was the first thing they said to me," Santiago says, "when they got off the plane." 

“Like me?” Her voice is soft, the heaviness of sleep still clinging to her limbs.

“Mmhmm,” Frankie hums, “like Daylight.”

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[vashak]

Eiji’s war

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Originally posted on 22 December 2019 in Turkish here.

No, I’m not done yet.

I previously wrote about how Eiji found a new purpose in life after meeting Ash and getting to know his world, which helped him come out of the depression he suffered back in Japan. But what exactly is Eiji’s new purpose in life? It’s saving Ash from his very “different” world.

In the beginning of the story, we saw how devastated Eiji was when he found out that Ash was ready to use his one and only trump card (the capsule containing the Banana Fish drug) against Golzine, knowing full well that he wouldn’t win.

Ash had risked his own life to save Eiji’s when he didn’t know him at all and now Eiji doesn’t have the heart to let him walk to his death. It’s like he’s thinking to himself, “How can a boy my age find himself in such an impasse?” This is the first time we see Eiji rebel against the world Ash’s living in.

But Eiji does more than silently shed tears, especially once things get more complicated. For example, here he’s basically telling Ash to quit doing things that would put him in harm’s way.

Later, when it becomes clear that there’s no “quitting” in this world (because they simply won’t let you), Eiji comes up with a different suggestion.

And this offer is so unexpected that Ash doesn’t understand at first. Eiji simply asks him again if he would like to come to Japan with him. He is presumably surprised that Ash was so taken aback by such a straightforward question. Ash’s surprise is telling me that he never even thought it would be possible to leave this life behind.

Eiji’s offer also means this: I forgive you. Going to Japan to start a new life means that Ash won’t have to account for all the bad things he did in the past. Ash doesn’t believe there’s such a possibility or that he deserves such a chance. So he averts his gaze and comes up with an excuse. I just realized that there’s a pattern here. When Ash makes such excuses, he always puts himself down as if to say he’s not worthy of Eiji’s offer.  But then, as you’ll see in the scene below, he realizes that this attitude only serves to embarrass Eiji, so he stops and apologizes.

What this scene inherently tells us is just how ashamed Ash feels about the things he was forced to do all his life. It is also a good example of the difference in opinion between Ash and Eiji—while Ash thinks so little of himself, Eiji thinks the world of him.

When Eiji repeats his offer to go to Japan together a second time, he can’t stay so calm.

Because by then, Ash gave himself up to Golzine as hostage in exchange for Eiji’s life, underwent an eating disorder, started a guerilla war, got raped and is still fighting against commandos as they’re having this conversation.

This time, Ash tells him what he really thinks instead of coming up with excuses. He says “My hands are dirty with other people’s blood,” implying that he doesn’t deserve a fresh start. “But you had to. Or you would be killed yourself,” replies Eiji, whereas previously, when they were quarreling before Ash’s one-to-one fight with Arthur, Eiji had yelled “You are not the kind of man who shoots defenseless people!” to his face. It seems that Eiji has learned the cruel ways of Ash’s world since then.

There is another reason why Ash is not taking Eiji up on his offer besides thinking that he doesn’t deserve a fresh start. Ash thinks he’s a troublemaker and will put those around him in danger no matter where he is (I talked more about this here). And as expected, he tells Eiji exactly that: “I’m bad news, Eiji. Doesn’t matter where I go… And you’ll get caught up in it. Like you are now.”

We know by now that Eiji never even once stayed silent when Ash said something to stigmatize himself. He always told Ash otherwise and explained why in a perfectly logical way. All this time, he calmly and patiently fought against Ash’s toxic mindset. But this time, he’s had enough.

This is the first time Eiji puts his emotions into words in such a raw way. He literally screams how much he cares about Ash. And a minute later, he indisputably proves just how much by pushing Ash away and taking bullet for him.

This incident resets all the progress Eiji’s so far made to change Ash’s self-loathing mindset. The fact that Eiji almost died because of him and later Lao’s tirade against Ash in front of all the gang members (“He ain’t human! He’s a goddamn monster!”) make Ash feel ashamed and disgusted at himself.

Then comes the wretched hospital scene… This scene is drenched in symbolism, but it actually serves to make us understand one simple fact: Similar to how Eiji can’t survive in Ash’s world, Ash will never be accepted in Eiji’s world. Eiji’s not capable of protecting himself in Ash’s world. He’ll always be vulnerable as long as he stays there. And in Eiji’s world, Ash will never be accepted by others in the way Eiji accepts Ash. He’ll ultimately be seen as a criminal rather than a victim and will have to answer to the law for what he did.

So Ash enters the hospital. He’s been reminded in the most painful way that he can never be part of Eiji’s world and has come to say goodbye to his friend one last time. Eiji vaguely hears Ash’s accented “sayounara” and crawls out of bed with great difficulty to stop him from leaving (Ash can’t pronounce the second syllable long, but instead says “sa-yo-na-ra”). But just then, Charlie and Ibe-san notice Ash and come after him. Eiji knows that even if they have good intentions now, eventually Ash will be found guilty. And, for the first time in his life, Eiji tells Ash to leave him. He screams “Go!” with all his might. The anime adaptation did a wonderful job showing us how difficult this must have been for Eiji to do.

I think Eiji inherently knew that this was the last time he would see Ash. But he refused to believe it, because that would mean that he himself had surrendered to the fatalistic mindset that he was trying to liberate Ash from. So what does Eiji do next? What he does best, of course.

Remember when Eiji wanted to pass a message to Ash through his gang members when Ash tried to send him back to Japan without telling him? He asked Bones and Kong to tell Ash to “take care of his life” and that he would “always wish him luck” even from far away.

So this time, Eiji writes a letter to Ash in case he can’t see him before going to Japan. He pours in all that he feels. The letter ends up being the most earnest summary of everything Eiji has been trying to make Ash understand.

… You said to me before, “We live in different worlds” … We are friends. Isn’t that enough? … But I never felt scared of you, not even once … Actually, I always felt that you are hurt, much more than me—that your spirit is wounded … I always wanted to protect you … I think I wanted to protect you from your future … You can change your fate …

Eiji wants these words to accompany Ash while he’s away: “You are not alone, Ash. I am with you. My soul is always with you.” The one-way ticket to Japan he encloses with the letter serves as a reminder of his invitation. We know that Eiji had every intention of seeing Ash again from his thoughts on the plane. What didn’t cross his mind at all was without a doubt that Ash would draw his last breath as he read Eiji’s heartfelt words.

When it comes to Ash’s death, I feel overwhelmed with a series of unanswered questions as I previously indicated here and here. For example…

When Sing can’t get Ash to say anything to Eiji, he can’t bear to face Eiji empty-handed so he sees him off with a few made-up parting words in Ash’s stead (Aww, isn’t he precious?). Does Eiji ever realize this? Can he tell that Sing made up Ash’s parting words? I think he can. So does he ever confront Sing about this before or after Garden of Light? Who knows.

And just how much does Eiji know about Ash’s death? He knows that his letter distracted Ash, so he didn’t see Lao coming. But does he know that Ash had read part of his letter by then and started running to the airport? Does he know that Ash went back to the library after getting wounded to read the rest of his letter? Does he know that Ash laid his head on his letter and died with a smile on his face?

I really wish for a “yes” to these questions.

To me, the story of Banana Fish is more antagonistic towards Eiji than Ash. Yes, all the bad stuff happen to Ash but he’s never shocked that they do. The leopard has learned how harsh the ascent can be. Eiji, on the other hand, believes he can save Ash from this shitty world. He is proven wrong a number of times but he never stops believing that. As I mentioned in the answer to this ask, if you think about it, in the end Ash dies just like he knew he would.

He is stabbed by a street thug who held a grudge against him and dies just like that. In the end, he couldn’t change his fate like Eiji tried to make him believe. In the end, the leopard couldn’t climb down the mountain. But what’s remarkable is that Eiji never surrenders to Ash’s fatalistic mindset even after his death. Not even once. He never says things like “He was right after all and I was wrong. He couldn’t change his fate and trouble never ever left him alone.” Instead he says this:

The End

[zuffer-weird-girl]

"So, these are the guys you told me about it angel?" Chisaki showed you a few pictures of the subordinates and on top of them the boss of the group in general... the man you despised calling your father. Just seing his face made you shiver in both anger and fear.

You nodded, averting your eyes from the photo to anything in the room.

Kai hummed in understatement and slide the photo aside on his desk before lifting up from his chair and making his way to you.

He couldn't exactly say much about this organization; he would be a total hypocrite about it, honestly; but the things they did to you were totally different from what was his main objective...

You were such a rare pure being in this sick word, and they were trying to implant a quirk on you? A despicable dicease? Only thinking about it made him clench his jaw and form his hands in fists.

"Angel, I am grateful that you told me about this." He indicated your forearm where it landed a few scars due to those damn experiments "May I?" You looked up at him and clearly you could've express in your eyes the doubt and uncertain, but you merely sighed and gave your forearms to his already ungloved hands.

It hurted a lot at first, but at least you wouldn't have something to daily look at to remind you of the hell you've had been through.

"Good as new." He mumbled putting his gloves back on as you admired his work. Not even a trace of inhuman experiments were evident.

"Thank you Kai." You said gratefully, and despite his plague mask covering half of his face, you could see the hints of smile forming.

"Anytime..." he started to look at the door for a moment before slowing taking his mask off, and reluctantly opening his arms.

Ah. You got it.

You envelop your arms carefully around your boyfriend; whose for a few seconds was rigid as a rock before easing up; as he hugged you back awkwardly.

"Those despicable things will pay for every second of the torture you had been through." He separated from the hug; much to your dissapointment; and kissed your forehead quickly. "I swear."

"Ever heard that revenge leaves the heart black from hate dear?" You mocked while he gave you an arched eyebrow and a breathless chuckle.

"Do I look like I care?" He asked looking down at you adoringly.

"Master Overhaul!" Bombarded the room Tengai along with Nemoto.

Chisaki quickly put his plague mask back on as he pushed you to be behind his mask.

"Boss, forgive us for the interruption, but there is a gang outside claiming that they want to kill you and get them back." Nemoto pointed at your direction making you shiver.

Not again...

"Tell them to wait outside. Let's solve this as intelligent individuals, not like beings deprived of any braincells." Comanded Overhaul, already annoyed at the sudden interruption.

Both man nodded and made their way to the yard, allowing the gang to enter in only one conditions. Wait for Overhaul and have a civil conversation at first.

"Kai what are you-?" He interrupted you carresing the side of your cheek.

"Would you give me the pleasure to watch the show?" He monotonous said while extending his hand for you to grab.

What the hell is your boyfriend planning? And definitely the anxiety growing ok your chest didn't help one bit.

When you both entered the yard, the older man along with two body guards were waiting, the guy on the center clenched his hands in fist and smirked sickly when he saw your figurine appearing.

You scoffed at his features. While Chisaki maintened serious and completely calm about the whole situacion.

"What gives you the right to invade at such in hour of the morning the house of the Shie Hassaikai?" Chrono asked while Mimic appeared out of no where.

"Yeah WhO Do YOu Think YOU ARE pUNK?!" You watched the scene beneath you.

Deja vuu...

"I'm here for them." The man pointed at you which you only glared back "They are my priority and you Overhaul took something that is mine." His body guards simultaneously cracked theri knuckles and necks "And I don't appreciate that."

Chisaki stared at him silently before gently grabbing your wist and mockingly inspect your arm before returning his cold glaze at the man as he let go of you.

"I didn't saw neither catched it your name on them. You're only wasting my time here." Your father growled and with a snap of his fingers one of the guards dissapeared completly.

Chrono saw the huried footsteps appearing on the grass of the yard and quickly shot the guy's leg. But that didn't stop the brute to try to grab your arm...

Chisaki widened his eyes at seing the proximity of the guy to you, and in a agile movement, with one of his arms, he grabbed your wrist and pushed you around to be behing his back and just as fast, overhauled his gloves to touch the guard, which exploded in mere seconds.

The boss of the another gang widened his eyes in terror and shock and demanded that his other guys attacked Overhaul immediately with his gun.

Chisaki, despite hating the mess of blood in his clothes notice that and holded you close as he shouted for a human body shield.

The poor precept was shot, as Rikiya smashed their opponents merciless on the ground.

You father face carried both terror for his life and anger towards the entire Shie Hassaikai.

Chisaki let go of you and looked completly sorry and disgusted at you. You didn't understand why until you look at your own clothes... They were all bathed in the guy's blood.

Great...

"Apologies angel, go wash this off. I will take care of this." He whispered at you as he started to make his way to the crushed man on his yard. You picked his wrist and looked at him worriedly.

"Don't need to fear. You know what I am capable of." He smiled, not that anyone could see anyway, at you before caresing your cheek softly.

You smiled relieved as he took of his jacket and handed it to you.

"Do you mind putting this on the laundry? It may take a while..." he growled the last word sas he glared down at the other boss.

You took his jacket and immediately entered the house.

Oh he just made a mistake his jacket would in your hands for a very long time.

Chisaki made his way slowly to the mans as Chrono and Mimic followed shortly after.

He glared daggers to the man's eyes as he mentioned for Rikiya lift them uo to his eye level.

"Let's see how fun it is to be treated like a laboratory rat..." he threatened, admiring the terror on the man's face whose made his lover suffer in the past.

[alsanjxde]

Miche Zacharius - Right person Wrong time

Chapter 2

❀ Y/N's POV ❀ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ Our first day at the scouts wasn't all that bad. It was shockingly fun, except for the fact that I was placed in squad Miche out of every squad I could have been put in it was squad Miche. It's been a few weeks since our first day. We have one more week of training then we're going on our first ever mission. I'm so anxious to find out what the titans look like. Oh well i'll just suck it up even if i am petrified of them. I look outside the window the early sun shining in it has to be about 5am? The scouts are definitely not what we all expected. We expected a high level intense 24/7 training schedule. But it's not all that, it's occasional fun training sessions- most of the time they're serious though-, it's making friends with the rest of the scouts. It's comforting like a second home if i had to call it something. Levi hates it here though. He finds it dirty and disgusting but that's just Levi. Me Isabel and Furlan love it here, we've made many friends. Fun fact: Me and Miche are actually getting closer; his sniffing habits are still questionable but it's dealable.

"Hey are you awake too?" Isabel yawns out. I sit up immediately "Yep yep, i'm awake, Good Morning." Isabel then gets out of bed and looks at me. "Up for some early training?" She says smiling ear to ear while looking smug. "Sure" I jump out from the top bunk. When i get down me and Isabel do our little handshake ending it with a fist bump and then a little shimmy. "Alright let's get ready" She yells excited. We both walk toward the wardrobe getting dressed while chatting about random things. Getting changed quickly Isabel randomly blurts out "Hey, you know you look tiny by Miche?" I just look at her confused with her random statement. "Pft, Well he is like 196cm" I state while laughing. "How do you know his height?" Isabel looks shocked but also weirdly interested. It scares me sending shivers down my spine. Eugh. "Is it not normal to know someone's height now or something?" I question while fixing up the straps of my uniform. "Huh? Oh no no nothing like that i'm just curious, the only people's heights i know are yours, Farlan's and Levi's." Isabel clears up while struggling with her straps. "Oh..Need some help with them?" I chuckle watching her struggle to tighten them to their needed size. "Thank you" She mumbles while crossing her arms in annoyance that she still has not got the hang of tightening the straps. "Okay well we won't be able to train on the titan cut outs so it'll just be manoeuvre practice" I state while helping her out, "Huh? Why?" "Oh you don't know that they said we can train on our own just without the cut outs." "Oh that's fine it's more fun like that, Oh! I know we can have a race!" Isabel jumps up as i just finish her straps. "Alright let's go" I shout as i run outside towards where the gear is kept.

Approaching our gear i notice one is missing someone else must be out here i wonder who, i forgot who keeps their gear near mine. I quickly throw the gear on and damn is it heavy. For all you thinking you could carry this oh you couldn't. Oh am i breaking the fourth wall? Oh sorry back to what was happening. "Hey! Are you ready?" Isabel yells out from the corner "Nearly" I reply rushing to put the gas canisters in the slots. I grab the handles/grips and exit to see Isabel on a tree ready waiting for me. "Wow you're so impatient man" I shake my head out shoot up into the same tree but just lower down. "Yeah i know. Okay ready for the race?" Isabel readies up. "Always" "3. 2. 1. GO!" We both shoot of in the same direction there clearly being a path to where we should go. I zoom past the trees doing spins and shit to keep my balance. The air flying through my hair but still keeping me fabulous.

Nearing the end of the race I hear someone else using the ODM gear other than me and Isabel they're getting closer to use but I just ignore it and keep going. "Hey! Wait for me!" Isabel yelps being far behind. "Isn't this a race?" I say  confidently and continue forward not looking where i'm going. Smack. Ow. My head. I flew straight into a tree, just my luck. "Y/N!" Isabel calls out. My sight going blurry due to the concussion I gained. Another person landing near me and Isabel. Who is it? Their conversation becoming inaudible I slowly close my eyes and pass out.

❀ Isabels POV ❀ "Y/N" I called out seeing her hit the tree and then tumble down to the ground hitting her heard multiple times. She's so stupid sometimes. Phwoosh. Who's that? Oh Miche. So that's who the missing gear belonged to. I wonder what he was doing out here. I landed by Y/N so did he. "What happened?" he bluntly asked. "We were practicing and she hit her head i'll take her back to the dorms now, don't worry about it" I reply inching closer to Y/N and attempting to pick her up but failing due the my petite size. "Hey um, Miche is it? Could you help move Y/N to the dorm i can't pick her up." I ask nervously waiting to be turned down and told to do it myself. He just 'tsked' and picked her up "Show me the way" I nodded in reply and started heading towards the forest opening. Weird. Normally squad leaders would tell people to build more strength and courage. Huh? He must not be that bad.

We made it into the dorm and I took Y/N's gear off, bandaged her up and gave the gear to Miche so he could take it back "Thank you" I calmly said. He just nodded and left. He is so strange. I wonder when she'll wake up. I check her pulse just in case. She's alive good. I sigh and smile to myself "Oh you really are stupid sometimes"

Next week ❀ Y/N's POV ❀ Waking up i see the sunlight of midday. Oh i wasn't out that long then, I sit up and look around to see Levi and Furlan standing by the door. "Tsk, you're finally up" Levi rolled his eyes in annoyance. Finally? It hasn't even been that long. "It's been a week by the way" Furlan says scratching his neck. "Oh" Silence crowded the room. If it's been a week that means tomorrow is mission day. Of course i wake up the day before an important mission. I sigh getting up. "Is there training today" "Nope, we're just going through the mission plans" "Oh okay well can you two wait outside while i get changed please?" They both nod slowly taking themselves outside. What a long day this will be.

I exit the room into the hallway to see people staring at me from all places whispering 'She's finally woken up' 'i'm surprised she's not dead' I just sigh ignoring everyone and continue walking towards where we go through the plans. Reaching the room I wipe the small droplets of sweat off of my forehead and enter the room to be met with a wave of overwhelming silence. "Oh nice to see you again Y/N." Erwin said with a cold face but with good intentions. I just nod. This will be your last day on this Earth Mr.Erwin Smith.

The meeting coming to an end me Isabel, Furlan and Levi were placed in the same formation squad. Maybe they know our plan and want to see us try? No surely they can't. "Hey! We're placed in the same squad just us four that's cool" Furlan says as me him and Isabel look for Levi to make a statement. "That just makes our plan easier" Isabel states full of confidence. Opening a door to the rooftop we see Levi sitting there looking up at the moon. "Levi. We're not letting you go alone." Furlan states, "You said that when we first step outside it'll be the four of us together" Isabel continues crossing her arms full of sass. "Have you forgotten?" He really has nothing to sa- "It's the same. When you can't see the moon or stars, the sky up here is just the same as the sky down there." Levi bluntly murmurs in a state of despair. I'm confusion me Isabel and Furlan look up to see the grey clouds storming the Navy blue night sky. "The colour of the sky, sure. But-" "But it's different" Isabel cuts in. Levi turns around and looks at her giving her a 'what' look. "We know that there's no ceiling. It's completely different!" Isabel continues her words full of hope "That's right. The sky is endless." Furlan says Isabel's words rubbing off on him. "It may be just as dark, but it's far different from underground." I say softly trying to be involved. "Look!" Isabel shouts looking up at the sky causing Levi to turn back around. "The moon is so bright!" she continues. "Right?" She asks Levi while taking a seat next to him; me and Furlan joining them. "There's a difference isn't it there?" I jump in. "Yeah. We're not underground." Furlan inputs looking back up the rest of us doing the same. "We'll never go back down there." "He's right, Bro. The four of us pulled through, right?" Isabel questions. "It'll be the same with the titans." I add. "Let's do this together" "Levi, believe in us" Furlan states his words depending on the future that lies upon the next day. Levi in a state of panic looks around and then back up at the stars looking lost and hopeless. "Alright. I'll believe in you." Levi states while subtly smiling. "Yay!" Isabel squeals "Bro sure is a stubborn one, Isn't he?"

The next day On our horses on the battle field out first official mission. The nausea from the anxiety boiling up inside of me. I'll be fine. It'll be okay.   We'll make it out alive. Me, Furlan, Isabel and Levi following other riding into the horizon ahead, just about visible as fog slowly storms it up. 2 titans come running towards us a 4 and 7 metre. Me and Levi jump off of our horses and slice the napes. Easy. "Good job!" Isabel compliments. Levi just nods. "It's time we split up we'll meet back up when the mission is done" Levi says fully immersed into the mood. "Good luck!" Isabel and Furlan state moving further and further away from us.

The fog impairing our vision. The only visible things around us are each other. I feel the nausea rising over me again. "Tsk, they can't have gotten that far can they." Levi grumbles. Suddenly me and him fall to the ground caused by our horses tripping over. We sit up look around. No. That can't be it just can't be. Isabel's head. It's lying there. Body-less. Her eyes drained of any life. In front of us we see a titan with someone in it's mouth please don't be- Furlan. No. I scream. Letting everything out i just scream. They can't be dead. No. I don't believe it. Levi next to me, I hear his little gasps of hurt and sorrow. He gets up full of rage and avenges our friends as best as he could. Slicing the titan to pieces, putting it through pain and torture before slowly slicing the nape. The titans body landing next to me and near Isabel's head. They're dead. Levi lands next to me standing there staring down just letting the tears fall.

The storm finally cleared up after 10 minutes. I'm still on the floor crying my eyes out. I moved away from the scene a bit. I couldn't bare to see it any longer than i saw it. Erwin, Miche and Hanji come out way. "Only two left, pathetic." Erwin says. In a fit of rage me and Levi go to attack him however i'm held back by someone. Miche. "Let go of me" I whisper. He just shakes his head and keeps me back while Erwin has Levi's sword gripped in his bare hand letting himself be cut. "You know our plan all along didn't you? Why didn't you stop us?" Levi says his eyes full of hatred for the one man stood in front of him. I turn around in Miche's grasp not wanting to see the scene infront of me unfold. He moves so he is kind of hugging me. I give into his embrace and just sob on his shoulder while he's giving little hushes as if he's giving a sign that 'It'll all be okay'.

(A/N: I am really really skeptical about how this has turned out. I haven't proof read it yet but i will soon. I'm sorry for the longish wait i have been busy struggling with other things but i hope you enjoy this ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ I read through it and corrected a few things so it should be good now ♡'･ᴗ･'♡)

[saventhhaven]

Going Under

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Tags: hurt!reader, near-death experience, worried!Sam, protective!Sam, drowning, hypothermia

Word Count: 2,030

(Gif not mine)

"Eugh." You crinkled your nose in disgust as the vampire's head fell to the ground with a plop. Its blood stained the pure white snow a sickening red as it rolled away from you. Well, at least that was the last of the nest. It would be a lie if you said you hadn't been worried about this hunt. You had been. It wasn't that you thought that you and the Winchesters couldn't handle it - the opposite, actually. Between the three of you, you were a force of nature. Together, you had saved the world several times before. But that didn't make regular "milk run" hunts, as Dean would call them, any less dangerous. Especially with weather conditions like these. The snow was coming down so heavily, you could barely see ten feet in front of you, which was a problem. Still, the monsters never rest, and that meant you couldn't either. You had managed to take out four of them without so much as a scratch. Now you just had to hope that the boys had gotten just as lucky.

You unclipped the walkie talkie from the waist of your jeans, and raised the device to your mouth, pressing your finger down on the button.

"This is Amidala, I just finished up my last vamp. Skywalker and Solo, do you copy?"

"Skywalker, reading you loud and clear," Sam came in after a brief pause. He sounded out of breath, which meant he had to have finished mere seconds after you.

"Star Wars, Y/N?" Dean's voice came through with a crackle of static. "Really?" You grinned as you flicked the remaining blood droplets from your blade into the snow. "Listen, the radios were a great idea. I like 'em. I do. But next time, I’m picking the code names." Before you could get out a snarky remark, Sam chimed in.

"Dude, you're one to talk," he pointed out. "'Agents Ford and Hamill from the U.S. Wildlife Service?' Come on." For a moment, only silence ensued, and you chuckled softly. You could practically see Dean grinding his teeth together from wherever he was.

"For the love of God," you complained into the receiver. "Would you two quit bitching so we can get home already? It's fuckin' cold!"

"Come on, princess," Dean teased, "can't you handle a few vamps? I know you're a little rusty, but still." You grumbled to yourself, flaring your nostrils involuntarily. If there was anyone who knew how to push your buttons, it was Dean fucking Winchester.

"Vampires? No problem. Rusty? Hell no," you replied. "It's all this damn snow I don't like."

"Yeah, I'm with Y/N on this one," Sam put in. "I can barely see my own feet." You grinned. Cue the relentless teasing from Dean. 

"Sammy, you'd be with Y/N if she told you that she thought sticking your hand into an open flame was a good idea." And there it was. Dean wasn't wrong, really. It was no secret that there was definitely something going on between you and the younger Winchester. The problem was, neither of you knew what that "something" was. Putting your heads together to figure it out probably wasn't the worst idea in the world. A beep came from your radio as Dean continued. "I just wish you two would get on with it already, so-" Your eyes widened, and you jammed your finger down on the button, effectively interrupting his signal. After a few seconds, you released your grip.

"You done?" You asked, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"Yeah, I'm done," Dean answered, sounding more than a little amused. Damn him.

"Good," you said shortly. "Then let's get the hell out of here before one of you gets hypothermia."

"Y/N, with how much you made us layer up, I don't think that's possible," Sam retorted. Again, you rolled your eyes. Before the three of you left the bunker earlier, the boys had been complaining about how many extra layers of clothing you made them put on. You weren't sure if it was a masculinity thing, but you didn't care. Even Winchesters could freeze.

"So I care about both of you. Sue me. But you never know," you cautioned. "If all this snow is covering a pond or something, and you don't see it, all it takes is one wrong step to-" With a loud crack, the hidden ice under your boot gave way, and you were plunged into the dark, frigid waters, the radio sinking down into the depths. The water seeped through your thick layers in seconds, and icy knives stabbed into your skin, bringing flashes of pain all over your body. As cold shock set in, you had to force yourself not to gasp in a lungful of water. You had to get your head above the surface and get out. 

Years ago, you read an article about a girl in Minnesota who had drowned in a frozen lake. At the bottom of the page, there had been instructions on what to do if you ever found yourself in a similar situation. Focus your energy on getting out immediately. Staying in the water can shorten your survival time by 50%. You kicked your legs furiously, muscles screaming in protest. You were on your own. Even if you hadn't dropped the walkie talkie, the device wasn't water-proof. When your head breached the surface, you took in a huge gasp of air, spluttering as you reached blindly for something to latch onto. Mercifully, your hand brushed against something solid, and you held on for dear life, attempting to pull yourself up with your elbows. Through the pounding of your heart beating in your ears, you heard your name carried over the wind.

"Y/N!" Dean. Thank God.

"Dean!" you screamed as loud as your wheezing lungs would allow.

"Sammy, she's over here!" you heard him bellow. The snow was coming down harder now, getting into your eyes, and making it increasingly difficult to see. "Y/N!"

"Dean!" you called out again. What kind of fucked up Marco-Polo game was this? With the upper half of your body out of the water, you had bought yourself a little more time. Now, you just needed to pull yourself out. Using the adrenaline to your advantage, you worked up a few more forceful kicks, trying to bring yourself to a horizontal position. As you prepared to hoist yourself up, the piece of ice that had been your refuge broke, and you were plunged into the water once again. Panic rose up in the back of your throat as your legs failed to cooperate. Swim failure. A whole lot of help that article was now. Here you were, mere feet from safety, and you couldn't save yourself. Then, a hand broke through the surface of the water, well within your grasp. You reached up, taking the hand desperately, and the warm fingers closed around your own, pulling you up. The first time you went under, you hadn't gotten any water in your lungs. The second time, you hadn't been so lucky. You coughed violently as your body purged itself. When you were finished, you were left with a pair of aching lungs, a spinning head, and a shivering body.

"We need to get her to the car now," Dean said, his voice more serious than you had ever heard him. Your rescuer lifted you into his arms, and you looked up to meet Sam's concerned eyes. 

"You're okay," he reassured as he tightened his grip on you. "We're gonna get you warmed up."

The journey back to the Impala was a quick one, thankfully, and the first thing Dean did was blast the heat. As he tore down the road, Sam sat in the back of the car with you, helping your frozen limbs out of the wet clothes.

"We've gotta get these off of you," he stated as he unzipped your thick coat. You nodded, teeth chattering as you tried your best to undress. It seemed counterintuitive, but you knew that staying in these clothes would stop your body from getting warm again.

"I-I'm still sh-shivering," you pointed out. "That's a g-good sign." Sam nodded, forcing a smile as he tried to hide the worried expression on his face.

"You're doin' great, sweetheart," Dean said from the driver's seat as he pressed his foot down harder on the gas. Sam unzipped your hoodie while you kicked off your boots and wet socks.

"I t-tried to get m-myself out," you explained with great difficulty.

"I know. I know." Sam's hands hovered over the button of your jeans, eyes asking you for permission. You nodded quickly, smiling to yourself. Even in a situation like this, he was ever the gentleman. As he fumbled with the pants, you stripped yourself of the still-dripping hoodie, revealing a long-sleeved shirt underneath.

"Jeez, Y/N, how many layers are you wearing?" Dean asked.

"I w-wanted to s-stay warm." You shook your head. "D-didn't work." The older Winchester snorted.

"I'll say. Sammy, I threw some blankets back there before we headed out."

"Yeah, I see them." He reached for the bundle of fabric as you pulled off the wet shirt, leaving you only in your bra and panties. "Dean, don't look back here, okay?" Sam said.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Sam bobbed his head toward your bra, making an effort not to look.

"Y/N, we have to-" You nodded.

"I know. F-fingers won't work," you stated. "Help me?"

"Yeah, Y/N, of course." Giving another small nod, you turned so Sam could access the clasps of your bra. When the tension in the piece of clothing released, he wrapped a blanket around your shivering body, careful not to reveal anything. You reached down and kicked off your panties, now completely naked. Without any hesitation, Sa took off his shirt and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Again, you nodded your permission. Mindful of the fact that Dean was still in the front seat, you opened your blanket shawl, allowing Sam in, who immediately took you into his warm arms. You shivered against him as warmth began to flood through your frozen skin.

"How's she doin'?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes on the road. "Still a Y/N popsicle?" You laughed, relieved that some of the tension from the situation had finally diffused.

"I th-think I'll l-live."

"Thankfully," Sam put in.

A little while later, your skin was still cold to the touch, but the shivering had lessened to a minimum, and your heart rate and breathing were back to normal.

"You know," you started, "this is not how I pictured you seeing me naked for the first time." Sam's eyebrows shot up into his hairline, and Dean cleared his throat from the front seat.

"All right," he said awkwardly, "we're almost back."

"You mean, you've..." Sam swallowed thickly. "You've pictured me seeing you... naked?" You grinned up at him slyly.

"Okay," Dean cut in again, "still, uh, still here, you two." You chuckled.

"Dean, weren't you the one complaining that you wanted us to 'get on with it already?'"

"Okay, seriously, we're almost there, so can't you wait just, like, five minutes? You don't have to..." Dean trailed off, waving his hand through the air vaguely. You caught Sam's eye, who looked just as amused as you did. As he looked at you, the amusement faded from his eyes, replaced with seriousness.

"I thought we lost you today," he said. "I... I thought I lost you." You squeezed him gently in response.

"You didn't," you replied. "Thanks to you." You cast your glance at Dean. "Thanks to both of you."

"Don't worry about it, Y/N," Dean dismissed. "We're just glad you're okay." The car sunk into a melancholy silence as the seriousness of today's events washed over you. You could have died today. Hell, you almost did die. It was a scary thing to think about. If Sam hadn't pulled you out... You forced yourself from your thoughts. You didn't want to think about the if. Glancing at Dean in the rearview mirror, you grinned wickedly.

"So, about the whole naked thing," you started.

"Three minutes!" Dean yelled loudly. "Just... shut up for three more minutes!"

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, please leave feedback! I love when you guys talk to me :) 

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[halsteadloves]

Chapter Six

Andys' POV

The ride to hospital was silent. I could feel the road beneath us and the engine powering the aid car but, there was no noise. I could see the lights from the sirens, but no noise. I could see Vics mouth moving, talking to me. But there was no noise. I just felt numb.

All I could see was the look on Roberts face when I would eventually have to break his heart and tell him that I lost the baby he so desperately wanted. He never told me, but I knew. I knew that this is what he always wanted. What he never had the chance to have with Claire.

I should have told him this morning before the call. I should've fought Maya harder. I should have told him about my pain. Its all my fault, I got our beautiful baby killed. This is all my fault.

The tears started to spill from my eyes and run down my face. Vic noticed them fall, reached, and wiped them away, squeezing my hand a little tighter.

Vics' POV

Andy was sat in silence, tears streaming down her face. I squeezed her hand and wiped away her tears hoping that I might bring her out of her trance.

"How far away are we Trav?" I called out to Travis who was driving the aid car.

"About two minutes out" He responded "Did you let them know that we're on our way?

"Yeah, I texted Grey. She is gonna meet us in the ambulance bay." I called back in response. "Two minutes Andy, Meredith is waiting for us okay?" She nodded but didn't say a word.

Merediths' POV

I was in the lounge getting some coffee when my phone went off. It was Vic Hughes texting me about Andy. I read the message and responded. I walked out of the lounge to find Bailey. I found her a few minutes later at one of the nurses' stations. "Bailey, we've got a patient 10 minutes out. She only wants to see you and I. Let's move" I explained.

"What? Patients can't request a doctor, this isn't a hotel" She chuckled, continuing to update the chart she was working on.

"Come on, down to the pit. Let's go." I said pulling her arm, making her move from where she was standing. She groaned in disgust. "Bailey come on! It's not just any patient."

"What do you mean it's not just any patient?" She asked, the look of confusion spreading across her face as we walked towards the elevators and got in.

"It's Andy Herrera. She gets to request her doctors" I said as the doors of the elevator closed. Miranda looked at me, shock and worry now replaced the confused look that was once there.

"As in firefighter Andy Herrera? As in works with my husband Andy Herrera?" Bailey asked, I just nodded in response as the elevator doors opened and we stepped out.

"Hunt, I've got an incoming patient. I need you to clear a side room. No interns, Bailey and I will handle this one on our own." I said, Owen nodding in response. He then disappeared off organising his ER. Bailey and I then headed outside to wait for aid car 19.

Travis' POV

As I pulled into the ambulance bay and Grey Sloan, I could see Meredith and Bailey stood by the doors waiting for us. I parked and got out of the aid car, greeting the two doctors as we opened the back door of the ambulance. Andy was sat on the gurney clinging to Vics hand. We then unloaded Andy from the aid car and headed inside the hospital. When we all got into the exam room Andy turned to me. "Trav, please could you go and get Robert? Take the aid car back to the station? Please don't tell anyone else okay, I don't want them to worry"

"Of course, Andy, just keep me updated okay? I'll get Sullivan and bring him here; I won't tell anyone else I promise you." I said and turned to leave.

Merediths POV

Montgomery left and Bailey and I started our exam. I asked Herrera some questions about the last 24 hours. She explained what had happened at the call, the pain that occurred after the call. Then she looked upset. "Andy, what else happened?" I asked. She looked at me with glassy eyes.

"I found out I was pregnant just before I was sent in. I tried to fight Bishop on the decision, and it all went to hell. The collapse and then the, the pain and then I woke up sat in my own blood. Not loads, but enough to scare me" She explained starting to cry.

"I'll be right back Andy. I'm just going to get an ultrasound" I explained as I walked out of the room. "Someone page Carina DeLuca" I called out as I located an ultrasound machine.

After 15 minutes, Bailey and I, and Carina had finished our exams.

"Okay Andy, I'm so sorry but you are having a miscarriage. From what I can see the tissue has passed properly." Carina states sympathetically, Andy lets out a small sob. "The good news is that the other baby appears to be healthy. I do want to keep you in for a couple of days under observation. Just to be sa"

Andy cuts Carina off mid-sentence, looking confused. "Wait. Other baby?" Andy sniffles turning to Vic who is still holding her hand.

Carina then turned to ultrasound screen to face Andy. Pointing at the baby on the screen. "Yep. Just there is the heartbeat. Looks around 7 or 8 weeks. When a twin is lost it's either absorbed by the mother or the other foetus. It is very rare for it to happen like this, but it can."

Andy had a small smile appear on her face. "Is there any way to have a copy of the ultrasound?" She asked.

"Yes of course. I'll go and print you a couple of copies." Carina said as she got up. "You can sit up now. Get comfy, you'll be here for a couple of days." She left, closing the door behind her.

Mayas' POV

I was still sat filling out paperwork in my office when I saw the aid car pull into the barn. I got up and headed out towards Travis.

"Hey Travis. Any update on Andy?" I asked pulling him out of earshot of anyone who could be listening.

"She seems okay physically, when I left Dr Grey and Dr Bailey were just starting their exams. Andy sent me to get Sullivan. She doesn't want anyone else there right now though." Travis explained. "I'll keep you updated okay Maya." He said as he walked up the stairs to the chiefs bunk and office.

Travis' POV

When I got to Sullivans' office I knocked on the door. Luckily, he was still awake and called me into his office.

"Sir I know its late, but we have to go to the hospital. It's Andy" I said picking up his keys as he flew up out of his chair putting on his jacket.

"Travis what happened?" He asked as we made our way to the chiefs' car.

"She had some pain after the call today, so Vic and I took her to the hospital about an hour and a half ago. When I left she was being seen by Dr Grey and Dr Bailey."

We finally got to the hospital; Andy had been moved to a private room upstairs. Sullivan and I rounded the corner and could see her sat in bed talking to Vic and Meredith.

"Hey darl. Are you okay? Sorry guys please could we have the room?" Sullivan asked, but it was more of a command.

"Travis and I will go and get you some clothes from your place Andy." Vic said, leaving with me.

They all nodded, and left, leaving just Sullivan and Andy in her room. With that the rest of the team appeared outside of Andy's room.

"What're you guys doing here. I thought I said Andy didn't want anyone here? At least wait out in the waiting room so she doesn't see you all" I asked, looking directly at Maya who looked like she blamed herself for Andy being in the hospital. Which unfortunately she should because she wouldn't listen to Andy who said that she shouldn't go into the fire. She should have known something was going on, Andy lives to fight fires. Maya knows that.

Andys' POV

"Robert you're going to want to sit down for this." I said, he took a seat on the edge of my bed and my hand. He nodded, wanting me to continue. "So yesterday morning I felt off and I have done for the last couple of days. I noticed that was late, but I just blamed it on stress. Vic and Travis convinced me to take a test which was why I switched to aid car. I took the test in a gross store restroom. I didn't get a chance to see the result when Maya sent me into the restaurant. I tried to tell her that I couldn't go in, but she wouldn't listen. She just told me she didn't want to hear my dumb excuse or something. Then after the call I found out I was pregnant in the aid car. On the way to and back at station I had been having like cramping pains, but I thought I had just bruised my ribs or my back. Turns out I was having a miscarriage." I was still talking and could see his emotion change; I could see his rage with Maya and his sadness about the baby.

"I'm so sorry you were going through this without me Andy. You can always talk to me, you know that right? For better or for worse. I'm gonna need to yell at Maya a little though" He said wiping a tear away then taking my hand.

"Robert, I love you and I do know that. But I wasn't finished. Please don't yell at her though." I chuckled and reached onto my side table and grabbed the ultrasound picture from earlier on. "It's okay though because our other baby is perfectly healthy" I handed him the ultrasound and explained about how rare it is. He seemed confused at first then he just sat there smiling from ear to ear a few tears filling his eyes. "Around 8 or 9 weeks apparently. Robert, be honest with me, are you happy?" I asked

"Andy, we're having a baby! A little miracle baby of course I'm happy." He said smiling wider than a Cheshire cat, leaning forward, and placing a hand and a kiss on my still flat and toned stomach. "I love you Andy"

[in-arlathan]

Born Wilder

Wow, writing this little something of a fic took way longer than I expected, but I got there in the end. I really needed to get this story out of my system to get my fanfiction mojo flowing again.

This one-shot features my Elenara Lavellan and her companions Varric, Cassandra and Solas in the Hinterlands. After writing Solavellan romance with no specific Lavellan, it’s was so nice to write with one of my OCs again.

Sadly, Elenara and Solas are far away from their relationship in this one, so no sappy romance here, but I enjoyed exploring her thoughts on the Inquisition and being a Dalish among humans before she became Inquisitor. Also, some friendly bonding with Varric at the end, which is always good. Happy reading! :)

Read it on AO3

––––

“So, Chuckles,” Varric said, “is it true you spend most of your time in the Fade?”

 “As much as is possible, yes,” Solas answered with a curious side-glance. “The Fade contains a wealth of knowledge for those who know where to look.”

The dwarf scoffed. “I don't know how you dream, let alone wander around in there. Especially when the shit that comes out of the Fade generally seems... pretty cranky.”

“So are humans, but we continue to interact with them…,” Solas replied with a smile tugging at his lips. “When we must.”

“Point taken,” Varric said.

Cassandra made a disgruntled face. “If you gentlemen are quite finished…”

“Come now, seeker…”

Elenara smiled, despite only half-listening to her companions. She was too busy keeping an eye out for rebel mages or rogue templars in the surrounding forest. It hadn’t been long since the party had stumbled in a battle between both sides and she was not keen to repeat that experience just yet.

They had spent the last week traversing the Hinterlands, running errands on behalf of the Inquisition. Every now and then, Solas or Cassandra urged her to call the retreat, get back to Haven and move on to Val Royeaux to speak to the remaining clerics of the Chantry. Elenara, on the other hand, didn’t want to rush the matter. She was rather happy to be out in the wilderness again, even as an envoy of the Inquisition. The rustling leaves and whispering wind reminded her of a time when everything had been much simpler. Before the sky had been torn apart.

If only she could remember what had happened at the conclave…

 Elenara squared her shoulders, wiping sweat from her brow with one hand. Dwelling on the matter was no use. Her memories wouldn’t return just because she wanted them to. The only choice she had was to focus on what was before her: the refugees that required her help. She had decided that their lives mattered more than her knowing what had transpired at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. And so she hurried through the Hinterlands, doing everything she could to make them feel safe and protected. As if somehow, through her own actions, she could feel safe and protected, too.

Her companions didn’t seem to take much liking to the remote wilderness, though. Varric used any chance he got to complain about the weather, the people, the food, and the lack of proper ale. Even Cassandra, who had been at odds with the dwarf since Elenara met her, seemed to agree with him, but she did not voice her contempt as loudly as he did. Only Solas kept quiet and dismissed any of her questions if he felt ill at ease. “What we accomplish here will one day serve us in our mission to seal the Breach,” he said. “That is more important than my personal comfort.” 

“We’re almost there,” Elenara said when they finally exited the woods and the friendly conversation between her companions came to an end. Looking around carefully, she felt a shiver crawl down her spine. Her gaze was fixed on a small hillside by Dwarfson’s Pass where they had set up camp the night before. It was not much, just a few bedrolls arranged around a campfire, plus a chest in which they had stored some of their supplies. Nothing of value or importance that would draw the attention of scavengers or bandits. And yet, Elenara couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“Hurry,” she shouted and started into a run, racing up the hill with her senses on high alert. Behind her, she could hear Varric groan with exhaustion as he tried to keep up with Solas and Cassandra who followed Elenara with relative ease.

“Shit,” was all she said when their camp came into view.

The bedrolls lay scattered and had clearly been searched, and the chest with their supplies was missing. Whoever robbed than even took the bushels of elf root they had hung on a small rag to dry them before transport.

Cassandra, Solas, and Varric reached the camp shortly after, looking around in confusion. The dwarf swore under his breath, as he searched his bedroll. “Those bastards took my notes,” he exclaimed. “I stored them in a small compartment … ah, nevermind.”

“I’m sorry,” Elenara said and meant it.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Varric said with a handwave. “This should teach me not to leave my writing lying about while I run off to kill people.”

“Do any of you have any supplies with you?” Cassandra asked.

Solas checked his backpack, as well as the small bags on his belts. “Sadly, no,” he told the seeker. “I thought I had some bread left, but come to think of it, I must have placed it in the chest with the rest of our supplies.”

“I only have two bottles of dwarven ale from last night,” Varric added after a quick glance into his baggage. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Great!” Cassandra growled. “What a perfect mess. The sun is already setting. It’ll be dark before we have the chance to get to Winter Watch Tower to ask for help.”

“I guess you are correct,” Elenara admitted. “But we don’t need to get to the fortress to sustain ourselves.”

Varric raised an eyebrow at that. “What do you suggest, Lavellan? Lie in wait for some travelers to ask them for help?”

“Creators, no.” Elenara shook her head, slightly amused. “You really don’t spend much time out in the wilds, do you?”

“Not, if I can avoid it,” Varric said.

“Well, I’ll take care of this,” she announced and checked her quiver and bow. She had enough arrows left, and the rope in her backpack would come in handy when making snares. “I suggest you go and search for wood to make a fire with before it’s dark. I’ll be back in no time.”

With that, she turned on her heels and made her way down the hill again. The prospect of being alone in the woods – truly alone – made her feel giddy and foolish like a little girl. Keeper Deshanna wouldn’t have liked it.  

She was already half-way down the hill when behind her Solas asked. “Where are you going, lethallin?”

Elenara turned to smile at the apostate. “The wilderness contains a wealth of sustenance for those who know where to look,” she said and spread her arms wide.

***

She returned to the camp with two small nugs as her prey. The dead animals were dangling for a piece of rope she had used to tie them together. She hadn’t even needed her arrows to kill them. All she had done was laying out a few snares in the undergrowth and wait for the creatures to walk into her traps. For an experienced hunter like her, it had been an easy task, as simple as putting on clothes. Still, Cassandra and Varric eyed her suspiciously when she presented the animals to them.

“Our dinner,” she told them and dropped the nugs next to the fire.

Varric stared at her in disbelieve.

“That was remarkably quick,” Cassandra said, brows furrowed. “You’ve been away for what… three hours?”

Elenara made a vague gesture. “Give or take.”

She relieved herself of her backpack, quiver, and bow, and placed all of her belongings on her bedroll. Her companions had used her absence to rearrange the camp and get a decent fire burning. Solas was stoking the embers with a stick, making the flames grow higher while Elenara searched for her hunting knife.

“Nugs are fine and all,” Varric said, nibbling at one of the bottles of dwarven ale he'd carried around with him all day, “but how exactly are we going to eat them?”

Solas let out a soft laugh but didn’t dare look up from the dancing flames.

“Anything on your mind, Chuckles?” Varric growled.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” the apostate said, lips still pursed in a smile.

“Sure.”

Elenara found the hunting knife in her backpack and removed it from the leather sheath she stored it in. The steel blade reflected the light of the campfire as she turned it in her hand, marveling at its beauty. It had been a gift, given to her by her childhood friend Erendir when she had come of age. “It’ll serve you good, wherever you go,” he’d said.

She wondered where he was now. What he might think of her.

I will do everything within my power to keep you and the clan safe, she thought and turned her gaze to the sky. The Breach was only a faint shimmer in the darkness but she could feel it lingering on, waiting for her to return to Haven.

Focus on what is before you, she reminded herself, sat down cross-legged and freed one of the nugs from the rope. Without giving it much thought, she pierced through the skin of the animal with her blade and made a set of cuts. She stripped the skin from the nug with a quick  thrust  , and Varric made a disgusted sound.

“Andraste’s ass, Lavellan!” he exclaimed, leaning away from her with one hand raised as if he was trying to defend himself against an attacker. “Please tell me, you did not just do that!”

Elenara grinned. She liked Varric, but he had lived behind the walls of Kirkwall for far too long. With his fondness for city living, he could barely manage to endure a bit of rain without complaining. To shock him like this was mildly amusing to her, to say the least.

“Where did you think meat comes from, Varric?” Cassandra asked. When the dwarf didn’t answer, the seeker turned her eyes back to the nug and pressed her lips into a thin line. “Though, I do admit it looks more… invasive than I expected."

“You'll get used to it.” Elenara put a stick through the skinned nug and placed it on the fire, then picked up the second one. “There’s something satisfying about it, too. To know that you brought in the food to sustain yourself.”

“I’d rather bring in more bottles of these, thank you very much,” Varric said, waving around the dwarven ale.

“As a merchant, you certainly enjoy that privilege,” Solas admitted and stopped stoking the fire. He sat down and wrapped his arms around his legs, regarding Varric intently. “You are a successful businessman, are you not? Besides being a well-renowned author, I mean.”

“And here I was, thinking you didn’t mind what’s happening in the real world, Chuckles,” Varric said gleefully. “You continue to surprise me.”

And so the two of them picked up their conversation of Solas’s exploration of the Fade as if no time had passed. Elenara would’ve been happy to listen to them while she waited for the meat to be roasted by the fire. As distant as the elven apostate behaved towards her, she enjoyed Solas’s tales about memories he had found in ancient dreams. But this night, all she could think about was how strange the life of the Dalish must seem to other people if even an experienced adventurer such as Varric was grossed out by something so mundane as preparing the meat for cooking.

Taking care of her food – be it meat or bread or berries – was as natural as breathing to her. It was a necessity when spending your life as a traveler. But that wasn’t the only thing she had learned with her clan. She knew how to weave and knit and sew. Or how to read tracks and take care of the halla in their little pens. She even helped repair the aravels on more than one occasion. And she’d done all of it gladly to serve the Lavellan clan. Such hardship had seemed like a small price to pay if it meant that her family stayed safe and fed, and she’d spent a lot of time practicing and making use of her talents.

With the Inquisition, however, none of these talents seemed to matter anymore. Every morning she awoke in her cabin in Haven, a servant had already made breakfast for her. Before she had time to finish the meal, someone else showed up to bring her new clothing or clean the room for her. She’d known that humans lived very differently compared to the Dalish, and when she joined the Inquisition, she had been sure she could attune to this new lifestyle. And yet, after weeks, it still felt so inherently wrong that she ran off into the forest to hunt on her own at first chance. Out there in the woods, the world had finally made sense to her once more.

Like so many Dalish, she’d been born out in the wilderness. Roaming the vast plains and lush forests of the Free Marches had been second nature to her ever since she had come into this world. And although there had been a time when she had wished she could venture away from the clan to explore some old ruin or seek out education form human scholars, she never truly wanted to leave her old life behind. It was ingrained in her mind and body, her very being. It was who she was.

She only hoped she could go back to the life she lived before when the Breach was sealed.

“Hey, Lavellan,” Varric roared. “Are you still with us?”

Elenara blinked. “Wh–what?”

The dwarf laughed. “You must have been very far away,” he said and tapped a finger to his temple. “I asked you three times if you wanted to share a story with us, but you wouldn’t respond.”

“Oh.” She shifted on her bedroll, trying to push the feeling of embarrassment aside. “Really? I’m sorry. I was… distracted.”

“Yeah, I could see that,“ Varric replied with a roguish grin on his face. “So, do you have a story to share?”

She looked around, taken aback by the dwarf's request. Even Solas and Cassandra seemed interested in what she had to say, which only added to her confusion.

“Why would you care to hear it?” she asked suspiciously.

“We all have something that defines us. Some story we tell ourselves about who we are and who we want to be.” Varric gestured towards Cassandra. “The seeker, for instance, talks about duty all the time, because that is what defines her. Chuckles here can’t shut up about the Veil and the Fade, because that is what defines him.”

Solas narrowed his eyes. “I don’t always talk about the Fade.”

Varric gave the apostate a skeptical look, then turned his attention back to Elenara. “Point is, Lavellan, besides you spying on the conclave and doing your best to seal the Breach, I couldn’t help but notice that we don’t really know much about you.”

“Won’t you be disgusted by the barbaric Dalish customs?” she asked pointedly and nodded towards the nugs that still roasted over the fire.

“You take me far too seriously, Lavellan.” Varric laughed again. “One more reason why we should get better acquainted, don’t you think?”

A faint smile tugged at Elenara’s lips. “There is one story, actually.”

“That’s great.” Varric took a sip from his bottle. “Let’s hear it. The meal won’t be ready for another hour anyway, I guess."

Elenara stretched out on her bedroll, head propped on one hand. “One day, the clan was camped outside of Starkhaven…”

[stroni-bomb]

To Murder A Family

You hadn't meant for it to happen, you hadn't meant to disobey this badly. Your pack was right about you, one day your own rebellion would really be the end of them all.

OC Mingcheng's Backstory - Fairy!Jaehyun's Mate.

-Stroni-

⁎ *⁎°؂✶

You begrudgingly followed your mother and father, Alpha and Luna of your pack. They were on the move again to find a new home, only leaving intervals as small as one hour for everyone to rest before trekking off once again.

"Cheer up, you look like a skunk just sprayed your clean coat. Though that's your normal face nowadays it seems," Tao, your older brother and next in line to be Alpha, cackled beside you in pack link.

You snapped your jaw rather aggressively yet somewhat playful at him. "Shut it, I've got no patience for your games."

Tao grumbled beside you, deciding to pick up the pace and walk alongside your parents. Good riddens, you glared at him from behind, he was always trying to play favourite, not just with your parents either but with the whole pack that followed diligently behind your family. Suck ups, the lot of you- was what you wanted to say in your connected minds, but instead carried on walking, each paw getting more and more sore with each step.

⁎ *⁎°؂✶

"We are stopping here," your mother announced, her yellow eyes turned to face the pack whom had stopped dead in their tracks. "Your Alpha and my son have gone to survey the area. Feel free to shift, we may be staying here for a while."

Everyone seemed to sigh in unison, the instant cracking of bones filling the air. It didn't seem awkward anymore, seeing the whole pack naked. It had happened in so many occasions you were sure you'd be able to identify everyone simply by looking at their belly buttons.

As everyone stretched out their human form you decided to stay as a wolf and have a look around.

"Y/N!" Your mother barked after you, her too in her human form. Your tail instantly sagged, so much for exploring. "Where are you going? Ladies should-"

"Stay and look elegant so the pack feel reassured blah blah blah I get it," you snapped, slumping down onto the floor deciding your pelt was in need of a clean.

"That's not how a lady should cleanse herself," She scolded once again, a disgusted look plastered on her face. Not being able to think of a good comeback in time you simply stuck your tongue out, lifting your top lip as if to pull a silly face in wolf form.

"You're so childish! There's just no talking to you anymore!" She yelled, storming off towards the family of the Betas, second in command.

Laughing to yourself you watched her leave as she vented, presumably about you. "You shouldn't wind your mother up like that daughter," a deep voice said behind you, it was your father who, thankfully, was in wolf form.

"She started it; a lady should do this, a lady should do that, how about a lady does whatever the hell she wants?" Your father gently shook his head then walked towards the trees, signalling for you to follow suite.

You gladly got up, knowing you was in for a more educational lecture, one that didn't end with telling you what to do or how to live your life. Your father was the best in terms that he didn't judge you, he didn't have crazy expectations and he actually treated you ...like a daughter.

For a while he hadn't said anything, allowing you to follow close by his side, something your mother would never allow you to do.

"Y/N," he addressed you with your name, something you weren't used to as 'daughter', 'wife' and 'son' were how he always called his family by. "sometimes I worry for you, maybe I shouldn't. But the way you live, how you do things, do you think they're beneficial to the pack?"

You stood frozen in place. Your heart seemingly stopped beating and your tail immediately drooped between your legs. This didn't sound like father, this sounded like mother, literally anything but father.

"I know I'm not one to tell you what to do but, some things you know you have to, right? To save yourself, to save the lives of your family and the pack-"

"What exactly are you on about? You see me as a threat?" You couldn't help but interrupt, his words sending you over the edge. He suddenly stopped also, looking back at you sympathetically then turning to look at something in front of him. Reluctantly you moved forward, seeing the most beautiful lake you had possibly ever seen in your lifetime.

"It's not that your a threat Y/N. You just have tendencies to disobey even the most important of rules," he paused, looking somewhat thoughtful as his perked ears moved in the wind. "This lake, although beautiful, is cursed. I can smell it, nothing but bad news. Just- don't drink from it okay? That's all."

How could something so pretty be such a threat? You called it as bullshit, assuming it was another of the stupid tests your mother would put your father under to see if you'd do as you're told in an extreme situation. You weren't stupid. You'd already decided to give the lake a visit later to have a sip but in the mean time you gave your father a sure 'yes alpha' before racing him back to the others.

As the last wer finally fell asleep you silently tracked out the path you had walked earlier, following the fading scents until reaching the glistening water. It didn't have a particular scent that screamed 'this lake is cursed'. Even if there was, had your father really thought you were stupid enough to drink from a random lake? The fact that he thought you did only made you want to drink from it more, so here you are.

Without hesitation you lowered your front legs to make it easier for your tongue to reach the water. As soon as your tongue touched the cool liquid your wolf seemed to scream out to you, shouting at you to shift as soon as possible.

"Shut up wolf," you scowled, knowing it was only psychological. "Don't listen to what my dad has to sa-" it hit you all at once though. The feeling of skin stretching, bones growing ten times the size they should be, all whilst you were still a wolf. The pain was excruciating, nothing like you had ever felt before. The scariest thing was, you had no control over yourself anymore. As the floor got further and further away you cried out for everything to just stop but you couldn't. When it eventually halted you were no longer the slightly larger than average wolf, instead you were a beast, one so tall and bulky you could barely recognise your own pelt that covered its body.

A sudden burst of anger had shot through you; flashbacks of everytime you had been ridiculed as a child, disregarded by your parents and even your brother, it surged through you like a toxic drug. Until eventually, you had come to the conclusion of...who ever said you couldn't choose your family? Choose your pack? They didn't create the rules, no no you did, and it was time for a change... your new rule? Well it was simple:

If they've hurt you...kill them.

"And that's what I did," you finished your story to Jaehyun, who laid silently in bed next to you, playing with your hair and grasping your hand whenever your voice had broken.

"You weren't you in that moment," he soothed, finally deeming it appropriate to change your mood to a calmer one. It would've been wrong to have done it before, you wanted to tell him about your past in detail, emotions and everything. "Plus, you still have Tao."

You sighed, not sure if it was relief or frustration. Turning to face Jaehyun you cautiously wrapped your arms around him, taking in his scent as you shuffled closer to his body, snuggling your face into his collarbone. It was unlike you to initiate skinship, usually leaving it to Jaehyun whenever he felt like you weren't going to bite his head off. Dealing with your numerous mood swings was something you really had to commemorate to him, his patience really was immaculate.

His light chuckle gently blew the top of your hair as his arms found their way around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest. He placed a soft kiss to the top of your head, hugging you even tighter, it was amazing to him to have you here, you've been through a lot and after everything to still want to be by his side, it made him more than ecstatic.

"Hyunie...do you like Hyunie?" Acting cute wasn't really something you were known for either, at all, but in rare instances where you were both tired and seemingly under Jaehyun's 'spell' you couldn't help it.

"Hyunie?" He paused to think, not about the name of course, just about how adorable you were being. "I love it."

"Just like I love you," you didn't even have to think as the words just naturally slipped out of your mouth. You had never openly said 'I love you' before, Jaehyun had countless times but for you love was more if an expression of actions rather than words. This time though it was necessary.

"Y-you what?" He asked shocked, not believing that he'd heard you correctly.

"You know what I said doofus don't make me repeat myself," there's the Y/N that he was familiar with.

"I love you so much too Y/N," he cuddled you even tighter, resting his head on top of yours.

"Hyunie!" You pouted, looking up at him, his lips just a small gap from yours. "Why must you always one up me? You love hog."

He smirked as his eyes fell upon your lips, "love hog, huh?"

You lightly shook your head as your eyes seemed to naturally find their way to his lips as well. "You're unbelievable Jung Jaehyun."

"As are you Y/L/N Y/N, just more so."

"Again with the one upping?" Teasingly you bit the corner of your lip, snaking your arms from around his torso to loosely hanging across his shoulders and hooking around his neck. "Just kiss me already, we both know that's what you want."

He didn't hesitate, almost immediately closing the gap between the two of you and locking his lips in perfect unison with yours. It was passionate to say the least, he'd gently pull at the hem of your pyjama bottoms and you'd run your fingers through his hair, occasionally tugging at it lightly every now and then.

It wasn't unusual for you to end up pinned underneath Jaehyun's body as his hair flopped down, some strands sticking to his forehead where a few beads of sweat would roll down. Both of you naked, feeling nothing but love and acceptance radiating from each other, strong feelings showing clearly for the other. You were sure, no, you were absolutely certain that what you had with Jaehyun, that's what is commonly known as... forever.

[inimene-skates]

Kodu [DenEst fanfiction]

Summary:  Tallinn, the 1990s. The first foreigners come to Estonia that has recently freed itself from the Soviet terrors. Mathias Kohler becomes one of those daring people while seeking inspiration for his book. Thrilled to find out more about Estonian punk culture, he stumbles upon one of its particularly interesting subjects named Eduard. What follows next is a story about trust and freedom, revolution and philosophy, love and culture. A story about the land where they found kodu – a home.

Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15094802

Notes: After my rather prolonged hiatus I finally came up with something decent. I believe this world needs more DenEst since this rarepair is absolutely stunning. All the events in the fic are a mere fruit of my imagination; however, it is based on the events that really took place in the 1990s: the times when the USSR dissolved and Estonia regained its independence. At the time, the punk culture in Estonia was particularly popular.

I have previously posted this fic in its original language (Russian) here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/6731059

The main inspiration of the work comes from a song of the famous Estonian singer Ott Lepland "Kodu", you can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbyOx-1AGNg

There’s a lot of Estonian slang used in this story so please refer to the notes for translations. ___________________ Ma ei oska vene keelt — I don't speak Russian Tõmba nahhui, idikas! — fuck off you idiot Ime lahti! — same as previous Oota — wait Putsi — Estonians would use this word to curse if/when something goes wrong Vend — dude Lilla (also: pede) — fag Keppi mind — fuck me Mida sa tegid? — what have you done? Mul on nii kahju — I am very sorry 

Also, I tried to illustrate punk Eduard for you so take a look for a better reading experience! Enjoy!

_____________________________________

Mathias first saw him by Kadriorg. He was the one who the Dane caught his sight of from all six members of that frenziedly formed circle. Mathias could not be sure exactly why: perhaps, it was his hair with its part being tousled up and dyed unbelievably intense, almost acidic, pink, and making him look head up taller than the rest of the gang, even though, in reality, he appeared a rather short person. Perhaps, it was all a cocky look he gave the Dane with his mesmerizing eyes of cornflower color boldly fetched out by what seemed to be poorly blended blackish eye pencil. Or, perhaps, the reason could be the way he stood up front deeply inhaling the smoke of his self-made joint as Mathias approached him.

One way or another, Mathias knew for sure it is this fascinating man who would become the main focus of his next improvised interview.

“Tõmba nahhui, idikas!” One of the fellows standing straight behind the subject of Mathias’ attention and whose forehead was crossed over by an apparently fresh wound decided to move forward with an uncovered attack on a stranger. Mathias could not blame him. In Estonia, the land that tried to make it through the quite tough times, people like him, that is to say, people devoted to the punk culture could only hope for a better perception of their selves. That involved, for a kickoff, a better understanding of the origins and existence of their culture and, ideally, less or no condemnation of the bad habits that most of the punks had, according to the public.

In any case, Mathias knew he did not make any mistake by having chosen him. It seemed to him that the young Estonian himself was the leader of that offhand punk gang judging by how daringly he rebuffed his fellow gang mate with a clear and abrupt ‘oota!’. His frown vanished freeing space for a spark of interest. Hoary smoke disappeared into the soft blow of the April wind, not freezing yet not too warm. He was looking at Mathias and his astonishingly vibrant eyes revealed emotions rather opposite to the light dimming inside his body. To Mathias, it seemed like the tragic but, nevertheless, stunning fate of the Estonian folk itself was reflecting in the eyes of this young man.

“Ma ei oska vene keelt,” The Estonian breathed into the air thickened by the cigarette smoke and locked his eyes with the stranger. Mathias gave him a smile getting his message. In the scope of the latest events, he could not even ask for the opposite.

“Ma ei oska ka vene keelt.” The Dane felt that his Estonian language skills had just reached their limit. “English?”

Someone in this incredible company seemed to have started to be running out of patience. Someone else pocked the leader in his shoulder but he shrugged it off making it clear that the next poke would cost his fellow not a mere shrug but a punch. With the back of the hand. There was someone who smirked and spit on the gravel-inlaid road.

“No English, vend.” Here is where Mathias started losing his hope in the abyss of the language barrier. Up to the point when the Estonian himself restored it by giving it a chance to exist with a soft but clear, “Aber ich kann Deutsch sprechen.”

Mathias’ lips stretched in a wide smile of relief. He knew they would make it work from that time on.

***

Only two things in this world could Mathias not stand – being bound to one place and the lack of inspiration. The prior was pretty hard to live with yet easy to handle. At least, for the man that made a living from writing articles for an independent publisher, finding himself in different points in the world to seek unconditional and outstanding events was quite a regular thing – later on, Mathias used them as sources for the new pieces of word art. He could not say that such activity earned him a fortune though; it happened to be just enough to make ends meet. Not that Mathias longed for more. Most of his time he spent outside the walls of his tiny apartment in Aarhus and in times of inspiration did not care much for a place to sleep or the food offered to him but was thrilled by a single fact of being somewhere new and uncharted. In the end, his every little adventure ended up with a new article sent to the publisher for editing – and off he went again as he found himself at the starting point of a circle of his life.

The inspiration was a completely opposite problem. Especially in the recent times. Although the nineties, the times of drastic changes in the unstable world, gave practically endless room for seeking inspiration, Mathias could not find a single place to plant his seed of creation. Everyone around him was making too much noise about the fall of the iron curtain and the collapse of the entire (post) Soviet bloc. But the Dane found it absolutely boring.

This was how Mathias ended up in Estonia. While the rest of the First World was enjoying the comfort and coziness of their apartments reaping the benefits of the post-industrial society and shaking their heads in disapproval of what was going on beyond the borders of the former Land of the Soviets, Mathias had got enough of this worthless pleasure. The decision was made out of the blue. The Dane visited his office the same day letting the boss know with undoubted valor that he was going to chase an ultimate breakthrough in the art of periodical writing in liberated Estonia.

So here he was, standing in the middle of a paved street road having his light scarf wrapped around his neck and put on the variety of decent tourist equipment: a backpack full of snacks and items he did not even recall, a fresh t-shirt, a new coat and a map with a proud ‘Tallinn’ printed at its top. However, this is where the tourist image of the young Dane came to its limits. Tourism as such was the last thing he sought in this cold land not yet recovered from the terrors of the last fifty years.

Mathias knew exactly what he sought. He sought people that were deemed yet not threatening but rather isolated. The young men wearing high boots and creating colorful masterpieces, that could easily beat up the most professional barbers in the art of hair styling, out of their hair. The young ladies changing the ‘right’ and ‘socially acceptable’ garments for the ultra-short skirts and combing their hair up in the chaotic shape to the point when even the strongest storm could not bother their cocky looks. People that could spit on the ground with no back thinking and drink themselves until they dropped in public, not really caring for anything anyone could say and leaving their feelings and thoughts live within the community of their own where no outsider was ever welcome.

Mathias sought them, the people with no right to be spoken of. The free folk of free Estonia, the folk that the rest of the society called punk, somewhat with disgust, somewhat with generalization. Mathias could not find peace unless he told their story to the world, the story shaped by historical, social and political events that had no equivalent anywhere else on Earth.

And so he went along the streets of Tallinn gathering the tiny pieces of the Estonian punk culture found in the words and faces of those who cherished it and allowed the Dane to take a grasp of it as of their souls and cores. Just when Mathias thought his journey was complete, he met Eduard. And oh, he proved the Dane wrong.

***

“Over here, vend!” A loud voice made Mathias almost let go of his camera, not because of the shock, though. It was more because of how familiar the voice seemed to him, that mellow, somewhat leisurely but also daring voice speaking German with a particular Estonian accent. “Out there, you hear me, vend? Putsi...” said the voice once again and the Dane looked back facing its source. Literally.

It was not the first time he and Eduard met by the Viru Gates. At first, he did not even hope for The Estonian’s consent to come and keep his promise to Mathias. However, here he was. He came to the spot every single day, first bringing some of his fellow friends along who had absolutely no command of German and therefore could not grasp the idea of the talks Eduard and Mathias shared. Soon enough Eduard found the presence of the gang members rather useless and started coming to their ‘usual spot’ by himself. Frankly speaking, Mathias was thankful for the opportunity to have conversations without the presence of any third parties around.

The reason for such an attitude was not really the fact Eduard’s pals did not give Mathias the same inspiration as Eduard himself.

Eduard was not tall. In fact, his height made the Dane look down at him every time they spoke. He was shameless, too. Although his voice revealed no impudence, it did not take the credit off his shamelessness. He was cold as the ice on the Tallinn roads when winter decided to remind the country of its long presence with the snowfall: it did not last long having melted in the early spring sun but as the twilight fell the puddles got deeply frozen causing Eduard to swear in his own language, totally incomprehensive for the Dane yet warm and sweet as latte in the cafe next to the Freedom Square. He was as plain as the rest of one million people forming the population of Estonia. Being one of them but also incredibly different from them, he left no room for comparison, the reason being hidden somewhere in the depth of his cornflower eyes dimmed with black makeup. He was conditional like apartment blocks of Tallinn’s Uus Linn, the New Town, reflecting in the lenses of his glasses yet careless and vibrant like the medieval houses of Vanalinn, the Old Town. Eduard smelled of salt of the Gulf of Finland that washed Tallinn’s shores and sweetness of infamous ginger caramel walnuts spreading the sugary smell all over the Old Town.

Someone might say he was perfect. Flawless. At a time, he was a mere Estonian guy, though, piercing Mathias with his cocky Estonian look and dictating him the rules of this cold land. Mathias did not mind. That was the reason he came here, after all.

This time the way led them to the park bench next to the Orthodox church at Toompea hills where the Dane, slightly amused, was observing Eduard drink out of the beer bottle and catching glimpses of every single passerby. At a certain point, Mathias even thought that he himself became a target for a part of those glances. However, The Estonian could not care less.

“How come you speak such perfect German?” Mathias broke the silence but Eduard did not seem to mind at all.

“My full name is Eduard von Bock,” he said watching his favorite beverage splash behind the dark green glass.

“Does not sound Estonian at all.”

“I come from the Baltic Germans folk. Well, half of me does. Not many of ‘em decided to stay after the occupation. The major part was returned to Germany by the Nazis. Back to the land of fathers where they were said they belonged.” Eduard slipped the glasses back onto the nose bridge where they also belonged. “But not my- what’s the word?” he cut the phrase short trying to remember the correct German word, “Ancestors. We all speak German. To not, like, forget our family roots or something. I don’t give a fuck about the roots, frankly. At least I can speak to you now. More or less a reason to have learned it.”

All this time the Dane was silently scrubbing the pages of his rather old but nevertheless priceless notebook with the tip of the pen. This is how the notes taken in this book usually turned into profound articles. His job was not to judge – he was there to listen, to comprehend, to write things down, to live them though and then to share them with the world. Judgment, in its purest form, was the readers’ job.

“Dare to tell me what you’re writing there all the time?” wondered the Estonian.

“Your story,” the Dane smiled. He could not ignore the change of emotions from amusement to understanding in Eduard’s eyes that followed after Mathias’ line and the way his lips stretched in a smile.

“’Course. You told me before,” smirked the Estonian and decided to finish his drink off. “I’m gonna be popular, ha. Life well spent.”

“Well, for purposes of confidentiality and protection of your personality I’ll have to change your name. For your own good.”

Eduard slipped off the bench carefully looking around to make sure no regular folk or law enforcement officer was watching and threw the empty bottle into the nearest wall observing it break into hundreds of sparkling pieces. Once again, Mathias did not say a word. Eduard put his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket and, instead of taking back the seat next to the Dane, sat down straight at the cold sidewalk watching Mathias carefully. A sudden breakout of wind tousled his pink hair strands calming down as unexpectedly as it started blowing.

“You’re nice, vend,” he said.

“How so?”

“Well... you’re not from our folk but I guess you have our spirit.” Eduard started rummaging through the pockets of his clipped leather jacket apparently looking for a pack of cigarettes. “You don’t judge. You’re trying to understand us. Usually, all we’ve got is people spitting in our faces.”

“You spit back at them, though,” said the Dane pursuing no purpose of insulting him with those words or point at his imperfections.

“People are weird creatures,” Eduard replied finally feeling a thin body of a cigarette between his fingers and impatiently lighting it on. “They are living in this crap for decades and putting up with shit those idiots are doing to Estonia but can’t stand a view of someone who simply does not look like them. This is why I spit in their faces. Not because they wanna piss off my pink hair or something. I don’t give a fuck. I spit back because they don’t care about the freedom we gave them. Where have they been when we were trying to reach out for the world by transmitting signals via Finland? When we were crafting the self-made transmitters of mercury thermometers in order to receive the broadcasts from Helsinki and spread the freedom of speech? When we were breaking off the Curtain? Where have they all been? Ha, they simply tightened their grip on us as their own opportunity. They saw hope in us. The revolution. We are the cause of the first Song Festival of the Free Land. But now they seem to have forgotten this. Now they are all not worth an old song. This is why I spit in their faces.”

His words forever imprinted in the broad handwriting of the Dane on the pages of his slightly worn out notebook got carried away by the rising wind. Mathias could see with the corner of his eye that Eduard frowned attempting to keep the cigarette lit.

“Jeez, I’m starving. You, vend?” The Dane sarcastically mimicked Eduard with his own nickname watching the Estonian sit on the freezing cold stones of the paved road and have absolutely no worries for the fate of his balls. Mathias genuinely thought that today’s meeting with this shameless young Estonian had come to its end and Eduard would refer to other plans to justify the unwillingness to follow the Dane. However, he did not expect a smile that appeared on the Estonian’s face at that moment.

“Is it on you, then?” he breathed raising up from the sidewalk and Mathias watched his German words disappear into the thin air.

“If you promise to meet me tomorrow at the same spot.”

There was a moment of silence, and Eduard allowed himself to finish his cigarette and give Mathias his verdict.

“Where are you staying?” asked Eduard suddenly giving Mathias an impression that he tried to escape giving promises.

“Anywhere,” he said shrugging. “I don’t need much.”

“That’s dope,” followed the reply and Eduard put the cigarette up by stepping on it. “From now on you’re staying at our condo. I’ve got a room all by myself. If you promise to buy food for everyone, I’m not gonna charge you a kroon for rent.”

Mathias beamed.

***

“Aight vend, here are my boys. Guys,” this time Eduard spoke Estonian addressing his young fellows, “This is Mathias. He’s with me.”

“Here guys, I brought a new dick to stick in my asshole tonight.” Someone in the corner of a great living room made himself heard and the room burst with laughter. Eduard rolled his eyes letting the confused Dane know with the gesture that there was nothing to pay attention to.

“Anyway, from right to left. This is Taavi, he’s joined us recently. We sorta keep an eye on him.” The Estonian pointed at the youngest, to Mathias’ thought, dweller of this spacious flat, and he welcomed the guest with his middle finger. “This,” Eduard stepped over what seemed to be a lifeless body whose soul had definitely departed this cruel world, “Is Erkki. Don’t bother him, he’s a busy man.”

The Dane gave the body whose name had just been identified as Erkki a suspicious look.

“And... what’s so important that he’s doing?”

“He’s thinking of the fate of the Estonian folk,” Eduard concluded seriously shrugging his jacket off and moving on to the next members of his gang. “This is Aare. He got us this condo so his rent share is less than the others’. Here we have Jürgen. He’s got a brain bro, nice working brain. It only works when he’s sober, though. And finally, this is Urmas. Urmas lives for the sake of two things – songs and girls.”

Mathias really had to take his time to get used to the new environment as well as the new housemates who he intended to spend quite some time living with. In reality, there was something more to this excitement he felt in his chest. He was thrilled to realize that the inspiration he was longing for had finally found him here, in the very heart of the punk community that resembled a family more than any other company he had ever seen.

Mathias simply could not believe his own happiness. One shall not lose himself in a dream. One cannot come to the new county, meet such a precious person there in a few days of time and, to sum everything up, blindly trust this person with his own life by accepting the very first offer to come and stay with him and the entire gang of people with the indefinite background. As much as he wanted to, Mathias knew nothing about them. He did not know their reasons to live for, the air they breathed, the sources of their inspiration and ideas or the things that made their lives worth living. Here was where experience came to place. The experience that had the power to distinguish dreams from reality.

Mathias spent the entire night writing. He wrote about the flags decorating the walls, the posters revealing the lines that were banned from use not that long ago. He wrote about the music he could not perceive by himself and sought his new neighbors’ help in order to understand the solid meaning of the lyrics. Mathias wrote about him, about this Estonian sitting on the floor with a recently lit cigarette and his eyes closed in tiredness and a simple wish to face his thoughts. He wrote about Eduard who reached out for the Dane trusting him back, just like Mathias trusted him once, letting him into his little personal world as well as the enormous world beyond the boundaries of his soul. He wrote about his cornflower eyes, his unbelievably calm yet highly inflammable spirit that made Mathias’ heart skip a beat from time to time.

“What are you writing about now?” Eduard spoke and his dense voice reminded the Dane of the cigarette smoke he let through his fingers.

“Urmas lives for the sake of two things – songs and girls,” smiled Mathias and the Estonian gave him a skeptical look.

“Oh yeah, that’s super important. Almost everyone in this room likes girls, you know.”

“Almost?” the Dane asked him back noticing the unease that went through the Estonian’s body as he inhaled the bitter smoke in his lungs particularly deeply.

“You know what they call me? Lilla,” said Eduard avoiding the eye contact. “It actually means ‘violet’, like, a color, you got me? But that’s not really the point here, vend. They use it to insult someone who doesn’t like girls. It means ‘a fag’.”

There was a certain degree of tension settling down in the air after he became silent. At that very moment, Mathias did not feel like joking anymore. Instead, this feeling was replaced by chilling shiver going down his spine, the feeling that usually possessed his body in times of anticipation or shock. The Dane could not say for sure which one of the two feelings prevailed. However, he immediately drew a picture of what could happen in the streets of post-Soviet Tallinn to someone who Estonians called lilla. Someone who could be prosecuted for being lilla not that long ago, if not worse.

“Listen, I can omit this if it makes things better–”

Eduard immediately frowned his blonde eyebrows letting the smoke out of his chest.

“Yea, sure, go ahead if you wanna rid me of my dignity! Not for toffee. I let you in my life, I let you tell my story so do me a favor and tell it right!”There was a sort of anger in his voice but Mathias had no doubt it had nothing to do with the Dane himself but rather with the experience Eduard had faced in a lifetime. “I am not ashamed of who I am. I don’t give a fuck about what those assholes say and what meaning they give to this lilla word. I don’t give a fuck if they’re gonna find me, stab me in the chest or break my ribs. I won’t run. Because you cannot escape from someone who is everywhere. You cannot escape from yourself. It makes no sense! I am not afraid. I am who I am and I’m not alone. Right now we have to hide from the idiots in the streets but I swear to you, the day will come and we will let ourselves be heard. The revolution is not over yet, vend. We are still fighting and we will not stop until we get what we want or die trying.”

Eduard put up his unfinished cigarette leaving it in the common ashtray and stood up to start walking towards his room. He did not even give a chance for the Dane’s disarray to settle by giving him a brief line: “Are you coming or what?” Mathias followed him right away grabbing his stuff from the floor and vanishing behind the door to Eduard’s room until next morning.

***

In the next few days, Mathias’ good old notebook got filled in with notes to the cover. He even managed to find the ways to communicate with the rest of Eduard’s second family (not without his help, of course) whose thoughts and memories he also imprinted in the paper. Mathias tried to grasp every single little moment, every detail of their lives as well as Eduard’s brave and somewhat wise thoughts that came out of nowhere from time to time. Once it happened to him after the Estonian offer him a self-made joint.

“Do you want to die healthy or happy?” asked Eduard raising his eyebrows at Mathias’ refusal to his offer and explanation that smoking does no good.

“You think that dying both happy and healthy is not an option?” he parried. Eduard rolled his eyes inhaling the smoke and letting it out of his deeply smoked lungs.

“How do you even see this, ha? I know no one who would die because he had too much health. We all die. Someone dies from aging, others from injuries or accidents but anyway, everyone dies from an inability to handle certain effects. Everybody is given a particular amount of energy upon birth. Since that moment, we die every day because our bodies slowly give up the energy we were given. And then it gets replaced by exhaustion and tiredness. You simply haven’t felt it yet. But go out there and find, let’s say, a fifty-year-old dude. Ask him a question. Ask him out for a drink tonight and he will refuse. Because it is you who can drink all night long and then wake up at seven in the morning and go waste your life in the office or whatever like nothing happened the night before. He can’t do the same anymore because his body has let go of too much energy in all the years. One day we all come to this thought and then there’s nothing we can do. And so we let go. And as you see it has nothing to do with smoking.”

Mathias gave him a sly smirk but in his mind, he could not help but agree with the fact Eduard’s words did not lack reasoning.

“You’re way too smart for your 22, aren’t you?”

“It’s as easy as pie, vend,” the Estonian shrugged. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about that. There’s nothing too smart about it. It’s just who we are.”

Sometimes Eduard got lost somewhere in town having left Mathias his set of keys to not let the Dane find himself trapped in the apartment (and to allow him to get outside and do some grocery shopping just as agreed). The other day the Estonian would develop certain melancholy which only he could perceive and express by the unwillingness to leave the bed listening to J.M.K.E. and lighting up self-made joints one by one all day long. Mathias just let it be. Very soon both of them started to realize that their lives would have never taken any other direction. The nights they spent being half the time among the other gang members, half the time with each other made their souls collide to the point when they no longer felt that the usual night routine satisfied them both.

That night Eduard made sure the door to his room was locked. He simply did not want a single soul to distract him from the lips that tasted too sweet to Eduard’s thinking. He was the one to take this first step towards being even closer than before and, having made sure the Dane was eagerly reciprocating his insistent, almost demanding kiss, allowed the impossible to happen. The Estonian let him come too close, break through the layers of smeared makeup, pink hair and cocky words to reveal a vulnerable soul in his core. He let the Dane know him as deeply as no one had ever dared to even try to get to know him before.

After all, there was no difference between their bodies rushing together, willing to feel each other’s skin. Eduard lay open and naked in front of Mathias and the Dane contemplated his chest surge heavily, fingers stroking down the ribs, his skin covering some decent muscles underneath, his bluish veins revealing themselves as the Estonian tightened his grip on the Dane’s shoulders, their hips tenderly colliding and making their desires look so obvious. Mathias reached out for his neck caressing it with endless kisses and let Eduard’s hands touch the Dane’s body wherever he wanted. And oh he did just that. He was barely breathing, brushing his fingers against Mathias’ back in slow, soothing movements that trailed down to his hips, found the way to his chest and finally rested on his warm neck. All the differences between them did not matter anymore. There were no boundaries, no history, no culture or politics – anything that would draw a fine line between people in the outside world. In Eduard’s world behind the locked door there was nothing that would remind either of them of the different lives they used to live, though.

So Eduard allowed Mathias to get even deeper under his skin. He allowed the Dane to lock his arms around his body causing Eduard to let out a choked gasp and words whose meaning remained a mystery for Mathias. He allowed him to watch the Estonian arch his spine, to tangle his fingers in Eduard’s hair, to gently put their arousals together shifting the fingers in a soft yet intense touch. A whispering ‘keppi mind’ escaped into the distance between their lips filled with the thick, moist, almost burning hot air and Eduard squeezed Mathias’ waist with his legs letting him in, letting him come closer, letting him thrust into his body, making his insides burn. As they were melting together, the Estonian forgot his own name; he was calling Mathias by his instead for the first time since the very moment they saw each other by Kadriorg. That moment was enough for him to realize that perhaps they would not be a one night stand – and so he got lost in a long, open-mouthed, moist kiss as his body trembled in sweet relief...

As soon as the morning came, Mathias made himself clear about their fate. For the reasons that left the Estonian completely flabbergasted and set him off track, the Dane announced his departure later this evening. His job in Estonia was done and he did not see any other reasons to stay there any longer. At least, this was what Mathias said. He did not even give a single chance to either of them to let things sink in leaving Eduard alone with his bare soul hanging out of his body, shattered and broken into million pieces.

Of course, that was enough for Eduard to throw Mathias out of the condo together with all the stuff he brought in. He did not really incline to any mercy, say any last words or threat him with serious consequences should Mathias ever decide to come back. The Estonian simply did not see any merit in this. Was there any merit in this situation at all?

“Mida sa tegid?” was the only thought that rushed through his mind as Eduard was falling into an unconscious sleep. The regret filled his heart – the regret of having approached the Dane in the first place. If only he had known.

***

“East or West, home is best,” said the infamous expression. Some people praise it as the absolute truth. Others are always ready to challenge its meaning. One way or another, everyone perceives it in their own unique way.

For some of us, home is a place where we first saw the light of day. Indeed, those of us who find such place home contribute to its everyday life in order to make it at least slightly better for themselves as well as the others. For some of us, though, place of birth has nothing to do with home. It is a place that sets such people at a starting line of a lifetime creating numerous challenges and obstacles that make them wonder whether they are actually calling a right place a home. At that point, they wander along in their thoughts seeking a home where their hearts would settle.

Mathias had been running away his entire life. He fled each and every place that bore a threat to him – a threat of becoming attached to somewhere or losing himself. That night, while walking down the streets of the Estonian capital the Dane raised his head to look up at the roofs of two towers forming Viru Gates. Their usual spot. The spot where he and Eduard used to meet. The place that divided the present and the past, split the buildings of the New and the Old Towns as well as two young souls.

“What am I really doing here?” he was thinking. Lonely, lost, having his heart left somewhere in Kadriorg on a cloudy day in April. Standing in the country that used to be foreign to him but seemed to have become something so much more in the end.

Mathias could not tear his glance off the place where the Estonian, whose essence itself smelled of smoke and sweet caramel, waited for him every day the same hour. The paved road broadened in front of him in its medieval glory. The rows of colorful, almost toy-like houses framed the road leading to the place where the Town Hall Square tower proudly winded to the sky. Tiredness and weird thoughts occupied the Dane’s mind and he went through the Viru Gates once again, facing the void of a very familiar spot.

That night he seemed to have lost his ferry ticket to Helsinki, deliberately or accidentally, for he urged to reunite with the light of the cornflower eyes dimmed with the shadows of black makeup, the scent of the hair freshly dyed acidic pink and warmth of the spirit Mathias would never trade for anything in the world.

“Mul on nii kahju,” he whispered as Eduard surrounded him by tightening embrace of his shivering arms.

“Lilla.” That single word was everything the Estonian could say in return, too happy for the sentimental greeting. Mathias did not mind. After all, it was the Eduard he met by Kadriorg. Eduard he never wanted to lose anymore.

***

“Everyone, listen up! I’ve got my contact with the publishing! It means that my book will be translated and printed!” The Dane came back to the apartment on the seventh heaven. The loud cheers followed the announcement, someone in the familiar corner even left out a cheeky comment about all the work Mathias had to do to earn some decent sex that night. That, in return, was followed by a sound ‘ime lahti’ coming from one of the bedrooms revealing Eduard leaning on the door frame and smiling widely.

Surely, Eduard had other ways to express his happiness with the news: that is to give Mathias a particularly deep kiss – behind the closed doors of his room, of course.

“So, does it mean you came up with a final title after all?” Eduard asked exhaling some bitter smoke from a cigarette he reached out for after their lips parted.

“Guess so.”

“Dare to tell me what it is then?”

“Kodu. Home,” replied Mathias. “’Cause this story is about you, about me, about every one of us. About people of this small imperfect land where revolution is still raging. But we’re gonna fight through it, for our home, for our happiness... don’t you think so?”

Eduard just smiled.

[justaramblingromantic]

when she was little - part ii

Characters/Pairing: Sarugaki Hiyori and Hirako Shinji/ShiYori

Type: Canon, Post!Series, Say Please!verse, Lily and Thistle!verse, ShiYori Week 2018,

Word Count: 5128

A/N: Part two of seven. 

I headcanon Hiyori to be a street rat from a very young age. It makes sense, with how violent and defensive she is (forced to fend for herself), how possessive she is over her food, how small and runty she is (possible stunted growth caused by severe malnutrition during her formative years). Another example of a similar childhood is Rukia. She also grew up on the streets of Rukongai and that girl is so tiny, too.

For the aforementioned reason, Hiyori is seven in this arc, but looks physically like a four or five year old.

Shinji stared at the little blonde girl in shock. 

First of all, he was surprised by how very young she sounded when she finally spoke to him for the very first time, and secondly, the uncomfortable nature of her abrupt question made him momentarily at a loss as to how to reply her. The whole thing was rather iffy and awkward to him, and the fact that the other three Shinigami in the room were all watching him right now did not make this situation feel any less absurd or surreal.

“…No,” the fine-haired Captain replied carefully at last. “I ain’t related ‘ta ya, Hiyori.”

He did not blame the young girl for making that conclusion. They both shared the same hair color, and blondes were also pretty rare in Soul Society.

Hiyori tilted her head to the side and looked adorably confused. Her small button nose wrinkled in a most endearing manner and the only thought that ran through his mind then was ‘cute.’

“Then, who are ya?” she demanded again with childlike authority, and that was a very good question indeed. He couldn’t possibly just go ahead and tell her that he was the love of her life – she probably wouldn’t understand and the last thing he wanted was to be stuck having to explain what that meant to her.

“I’m yer Prince Charmin’,” he told her at last, hoping that she would just take his answer as it was.

The child looked at him for a long time. Then, at last, she blurted out.

“But yer really old,” she told him point blank, and it was all Shinji could do not to twitch. In the background, he was pretty sure that he could hear Momo’s suppressed giggles in the background, accompanied by Akon’s soft snort.

“That may be so-” It wasn’t as if he could deny it. “-but don’t ya think that I’m, uh…handsome?”

If the adult Hiyori was around right now, she would have given him a punch right in the face for spouting stupidity. However, this wasn’t the adult Hiyori yet, this was the baby version of her, and little Hiyori merely continued to eye him skeptically, evidently a (slightly) more polite being than her older self. “…Ya’ve pretty hair,” she observed slowly at last, a tiny hand reaching out to touch the fine strands in question, and somehow he wasn’t surprised when she continued with the next remark. “Pretty like a princess.”

Adult or baby, this was definitely his Hiyori, alright.

Even as the other Shinigami were tittering softly in the background, Shinji wryly eyed the little girl whom he was currently carrying in his arms. “How come every time yer outta yer mind, I’m suddenly ‘pretty like a princess?’”

Little Hiyori scowled at him. “Yer wrong!” she barked with all the fierceness of her current seven year old self. “Only yer hair’s pretty – ya look like a horse.”

…She had just more or less called him horse face, and she had gone ahead and done so in such a brassy, matter of fact manner that he could only stare at the little brat in disbelief. The fact that her adult self also sometimes called him something to that effect (though in not so polite words) did not make him feel any better. This time, the muffled laughter ringing out behind him was unmistakable, but the young girl stood her ground and looked at him defiantly. She wasn’t as obstinate or as strong minded as how she would be when she was older, but she was surely getting there. Shinji’s response was purely instinctive – the Captain freed one hand from holding her, reached up and lightly pinched one of her babyish, freckled cheek between his fingers.

“Call me Ouji-sama, Ou-ji-sa-ma,” he insisted to her, enunciating each syllable deliberately, but she was hardly intimidated by his response. The little girl started to just as instinctively pull on fistfuls of his hair in retaliation, giving him as good as she got, and the fact that she was at ease enough to be tussling with this strange man already spoke for itself, especially when she had only been quiet and wary with all the others beforehand, Akon included, and it had taken them a good part of an hour to convince her to trust them.

Little Hiyori grunted and tugged harder on the stupid man’s hair. “No! Yer not my Prince Charmin’!!”

“‘Course I am!” he replied just as heatedly, rather shamelessly arguing with the young girl. “And I can prove it!”

“How?!!” she barked back at him, and he was inwardly charmed to see that one of her baby teeth, her incisor to be precise, was sharp and pointy just like the adult version.

Shinji said the magic words. “Yakiniku,” he deadpanned. “All ya can eat,” he continued. “I’ll cook ‘em for ya.”

He might as well have told her that they were going to be living happily ever after from hereon. The child froze briefly, and then for a quick moment, images of succulent, well grilled meat slices filled her vision, and the small, skinny blonde started to drool. “Niku?” she repeated hopefully, as if it was just too good to be true. Shinji nodded and replied.

“As much as ya want,” the larger male confirmed once again, and the age-diminished lover felt her stomach start to rumble with hunger at the promise of being fed. She was such a scrawny, bedraggled little thing, and being allowed to eat meat must have been such an extravagant treat to her. Shinji had personally not known Hiyori until after she had been brought under the wing and care of her ex-Captain Hikifune Kirio, so this child-like appearance of hers was entirely new to him, and her gaunt, clearly undernourished frame and gutter rat-like appearance and demeanor quickly gave him a very good hint as to how her childhood must have been like.

The Gobantai Taichou was abruptly filled with the urge to feed the young girl as much as she wanted to eat, and the instinctive need to tend to and care for her grew even more – she was just so tiny and fragile looking now, and she was also so darned cute with her spirited and feisty nature, and he wasn’t surprised at the least to find that she was already sharp as a whip and bright as a button even at this tender age.

She was unusually wary and guarded for a young child though, but he was pleased with the way she seemed to be at ease around him even though she did not seem to remember him at all – however, perhaps there was a part of her that subconsciously recognized who he was, and she clearly trusted him.

“Ya believe me now?” Shinji asked. Hiyori started to nod, but then she paused and shook her head instead.

“I want niku first!” she bargained shrewdly, not about to trust him for his word, even if something told her that he was a good guy, though he looked a bit weird to her. He responded by tweaking her nose next, and she wrinkled it cutely, going slightly cross-eyed as she tried to pull back away from him. This miniature version of his lover was really too adorable for her own good, and he was hard pressed not to laugh at the squeaky little grunts of outrage that she made when he continued to tease her – who knew that Hiyori was such a precocious little brat when she was little?

“Deal,” the fine-haired blonde agreed once more, finally removing his fingers from her face when she threatened to bite him for poking her. “But ya must listen ‘ta everythin’ I say and do whatever I tell ya.”

Hiyori gave him a sharp, wary stare. “Are ya the bad kind of oji-san?” she questioned abruptly, and Shinji stared at her, his eyebrow twitching at being called ‘uncle,’ even though the pronunciation was very close to what he originally wanted her to address him by – Prince. At least the impudent little thing had not gone for broke and straight up called him ‘ojii-san.’ He’d probably tip her upside down and dangle her by the ankles if she did.

“What do ya mean, ‘bad kind of oji-san?’” he asked her, and she squinted suspiciously at him once more.

“The kind who gives out candies and then tells other kiddies ‘ta follow ‘em,” Hiyori replied bluntly.

Oh. That kind who-­

Shinji choked when he finally realized what she was talking about. The man’s face turned a dull red.

“NO! I’m most definitely not that kind of oji-san!” he quickly sputtered his denial before he shot the young girl a disgruntled look. “…And I ain’t even an uncle. At least call me ‘onii-san’ if ya must, ya ‘lil imp.” He reached up and flicked her on the forehead, and the little girl yelped as she immediately slapped her hands over the lightly reddened spot.

“And just where did ya hear ‘bout that sort of stuff, anyway?” Shinji asked her, concerned by her alarming and specific knowledge of that type of disgusting predator. The tiny blonde scowled at him for that finger flick but grudgingly answered his question all the same.

“The older kids in the streets said so,” she mumbled, and he looked at her in mild surprise. Shinji knew that Hiyori had pretty much grown up without parents until Hikifune came into her life, the latter serving as a much needed maternal figure, but she had been pretty closemouthed about how she had lived prior to that fateful meeting with her adoptive mother. Perhaps this might be a unique opportunity to learn more about her past...  

“Ya listen ‘ta the others pretty good, don’t ya?” he commented, and she was placated by his praise.

“Of course!” she boasted, her little chest puffing out with smug self-satisfaction, and Shinji was pleased to know that this side of her was already present when she was so young. Speaking of which…

“How old are ya right now, brat?” he asked, and she frowned slightly at him for calling her that name.

“…I’m this many,” she replied slowly at last, a bit bewildered by the attention she was being showered upon when no adult usually cared about her, but at the same time, also quite happily lapping it up at the same time. The little girl showed him all five fingers on one hand and then stuck up two more on the other. She took her time to count them before uttering, “Seven!”

Shinji appeared skeptical by her claim. She was so small in size that he had initially thought that there was no way she could be physically older than four or five, but then again, she had always been on the runty side, so she might be speaking the truth after all.

“Huh. Are ya sure?” he asked, carefully concealing his growing amusement. “Ya still look like a baby ‘ta me.”

Hiyori gave him an indignant glare then, and it was really adorable that the cute little thing was trying to give him the stink eye. “I ain’t a baby anymore!! Imma big girl now! Take that back, baka!!”

Momo, Akon and Kurotsuchi Fukutaichou stepped up once again then, since it seemed that Shinji was getting along with his age diminished lover/charge well enough. The young girl who had been rather spirited and loud in her interactions with the golden-haired man carrying her immediately shrank and quieted when the other Shinigami came near once again, reminding her of their continual presence all this while, her hot air deflating alongside with her bravado at the number of adults around her. For some reason or another, little Hiyori felt safe enough with Shinji to show her true self (probably because the man look quite comical to her and acted like a big idiot unlike the rest of the adults), but promptly became guarded and wary once more when there were others around.

The small child pressed closer to Shinji even as she carefully kept the other Death Gods within her sight, snaking a skinny arm around the older blonde's neck to steady herself as she did so.

The dark-haired Lieutenant of the Twelfth was the first to speak.

"We're grateful for your assistance in this matter, Hirako Taichou," Kurotsuchi Nemu remarked politely. "If you're certain that you do not require additional support in the care of Sarugaki-san, then my colleague and I shall take our leave first."

Akon was not pleased with the decision of his fellow Juunibantai member, but he made no comment, opting to remain silent. His Fukutaichou was right - it was apparent that the Fifth Division Captain could handle the little golden-haired girl very well on his own. In fact, they were getting along so well within minutes of meeting each other that it was rather astounding.

With the assurance that the Twelfth Division would be doing their best to find a way to reverse the effects of the 'youth' potion, the two Shinigami finally departed, leaving behind the Gobantai Fukutaichou together with her Captain and the latter's young charge.

Momo smiled gently as Hiyori peeked at her from the side of her champion's neck - the little girl was positively precocious and it made the dark-haired young woman wonder if her superior's future offspring would be just as adorable as their female parent. She shifted her attention to her Captain, sobering slightly as she did so.

"Hirako Taichou, what are your orders for now? We've already gotten most of today's agendas completed, and the rest left are not of great priority." Momo glanced curiously at the little girl whom her Captain was carrying, her smile widening slightly as the tiny blonde ducked back into the man’s shoulder in a shy and wary manner. So cute!  

“Yer right, we’ve gotten most of the things done for today already,” Shinji responded as he absently tugged Hiyori’s hand from his neck to keep her from strangling him with her unconsciously strong grip. “I’m gonna have ‘ta go off for a bit ‘ta feed this bottomless pit-” At that, the man lightly wiggled his fingers against the stomach of said ‘bottomless pit’ – he didn’t even know why he was doing it, but instincts prompted him to do so and before he knew it, he was eliciting a startled burst of laughter from the child before she quickly pushed his hand away to stop his tickle attack, squeaky giggles still escaping her as she did so.

The innocent sound of Hiyori’s glee pleased Shinji very much, and he smiled back at the child in return, clearly already won over by the vivacious little sprite. It was hard to believe that his grumpy lover had once been so effing cute when she was younger – that was it; he was never going to let her live this down once she returned to her adult form. The Fifth Division Captain was becoming rather endeared with this child alter ego of his significant other, and even though the whole thing was more than a bit strange and unusual, he was rolling with the punches rather well and adapting quickly, accepting the current situation. Besides, it was still Hiyori as far as he was concerned, only that she was tinier than usual and even more dangerously cute (thankfully minus the ‘dangerous’ component this time). Shinji could deal with that.

Momo had to keep from laughing at the adorable and unexpectedly charming sight of the two blondes.

“Hirako Taichou, I’ll watch over the division while you care for Hiyori-san,” his Fukutaichou informed him, her eyes twinkling with mirth as the indignant young girl attempted to get back at her guardian but to little effect.

Shinji was grateful for the helpful initiative of his subordinate. “Ya will? Yer a real lifesaver, Momo. Thanks,” he informed her with a grateful look, and the dark-haired young woman inclined her head in acknowledgement, pleased to be of assistance. “We should be back in a few hours’ time, so if ya can hold down the fort till then, that’d be great.”

Momo nodded once more. “Understood, Hirako Taichou,” she paused briefly before adding. “I can also finish up here on my own so you don’t have to rush back with Hiyori-san unnecessarily.”

Shinji waved off his subordinate’s concerns. “Don’t worry ‘bout that – this ‘lil runt’s gonna be really easy ‘ta take care of.” The fine-haired male turned his attention to said runt, and the little girl gave him a small scowl.

“I ain’t a runt!”

“Yes, ya are!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, ya are!”

“No, I’m not!! Rawrrr!!”

“Ouch! Ow, ow- Quit bitin’ me!!”

“THEN QUIT CALLIN’ ME A RUNT, OLD MAN!”

“OLD MAN?!! WHY, YA ‘LIL-”

Momo stood at the entrance of the Gobantai office and smiled in farewell as her superior and his now miniaturized lover disappeared into the distance, squabbling the entire way.

Those two sure shared a wonderfully close relationship. 

“First things first,” Shinji told his young charge as he set her down on the ground so that she could walk on her own. “We’re gonna get ya some proper clothes ‘ta wear.”

Now that Hiyori had shrunk in size, she obviously no longer fit in her usual tank top and track pants attire. The Twelfth Division had kindly wrapped her up in the tiniest yukata that they had, but she was still very much dwarfed in it and looked bedraggled like a little street urchin that she was.

The little girl lifted her head to stare at him at his announcement.

"Clothes??" She sounded very surprised and bewildered, as if no one had ever offered such a thing to her before. The man’s response was to reach down with an elegant hand and pull up the lapel of her plain, cotton yukata, which had been drooping precariously off of her small, skinny shoulder.

"Clothes,” he repeated plainly, figuring that since she was in his care, he might as well just go ahead and do a good job of it. “Ones that will fit ya better than this rag yer wearin’. Ya will get yer yakiniku after that.”

Because if he knew her like he did, there was a very high chance that she would happily eat herself into a food coma if allowed to do so – it would be impossible to get her to do anything after that then, let alone try to outfit her, and so this was the next best solution.

“C’mon,” Shinji moved to make it final, before the young girl could have the opportunity to protest the decision. He started to walk into the building that they had both stopped before. “The faster we get this done, the faster ya get ‘ta eat.”

That was enough incentive to move the child, it seemed, and the little blonde scooted after him only after a brief pause, reaching out to cling to the tail of his billowing white haori as she followed him tentatively into the exclusive establishment of one of Seireitei’s traditional kimono makers, her eyes wide with wonder and childish curiosity as they darted around the place.

A female attendant dressed in a formal but utilitarian kimono immediately moved towards the two guests, bowing respectfully before Shinji when she came right to stand before the Captain.

“Greetings, Taichou-sama,” the woman murmured politely as she straightened. “How may this one be of service today?”

Shinji inclined his head ever so slightly in acknowledgement of the attendant’s greeting, and then, he reached down, placed his hand between the shoulder blades of his young charge and gently pushed her reluctant and slightly intimidated form forward, revealing her unwilling presence to the other. “Good afternoon. I require a few sets of adequate apparel for this child at your soonest convenience, please.”

The lady looked down at the little blonde urchin who was still clinging tightly to the distinguished form of Gotei 13 Captain. If the former was wondering about the relationship between the two golden haired patrons, she revealed nothing of it. The shop assistant bobbed her head once in agreement, more than happy to be talking business. “Of course, Taichou-sama. This one shall get down to your request right away. Will the little Miss please follow this one to the back to be measured?”

Hiyori balked immediately when all the attention landed on her, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her fists into Shinji’s coat and fought the urge to shrink in on herself. Shinji raised his brow slightly at the visibly alarmed expression on the girl’s face. It was obvious that she was unused to being in such a formal and expensive environment and was still quite bewildered by her surroundings. However, he had caught her peeking in awe at the colorful, intricately woven haori and kimono that hung on the walls of the shop, and her fascination was impossible to miss. The Gobantai Taichou glanced down at his young companion and gave her an arched look.

“Afraid, ‘lil scaredy cat?” he teased lightly, and immediately, the child’s uncertain and anxious demeanor disappeared as her attention snapped to him, a small, indignant expression taking their place even as she suddenly straightened and pulled her shoulders back in a show of bravado.

“Not a scaredy cat,” she muttered back, though she hesitated once again when the lady attendant reached out to take her hand. Little Hiyori chanced a quick glance at her guardian – he appeared completely relaxed and unthreatened – before she slowly allowed herself to be led away by the stranger. Shinji waited at the main area for them to be done, and thankfully enough, nothing untoward came out of the experience and his miniaturized charge eventually reemerged from the dressing room at the back looking none the worse for wear and with a cherry sucker in her mouth for her efforts. The tiny blonde even appeared quite pleased with her new acquisition, enough that whatever tedium and awkward discomfort derived from the measurement process had clearly been forgiven and put behind her, and it was all Shinji could do not to laugh at her delighted expression when she finally came into sight with the female attendant in tow. It was pretty amusing to see how different she was as an adult (albeit a very tiny, vertically challenged one) compared to her child self (still very runty in appearance, no matter how she protested it).  

The shop assistant politely drew up to Shinji while Hiyori was still preoccupied with her lollipop.

“Taichou-sama, this one has taken the measurements for the little miss and will get to work on tailoring the outfits right away after the fabrics to be used have been chosen. We’ve a fine selection of material in various colors and designs, if you will please follow me.”

Hiyori stuck close to her guardian as they proceeded to move to the side of the large shop where an entire wall had been dedicated to the display of various bolts of cloths of different types and cost. The little girl’s eyes widened with amazement and interest as the female attendant went on to bring out even more exquisite and colorful textiles with all sorts of delicate prints and stitching painstakingly embroidered on them. One particular collection caught Hiyori’s attention – it was made of cotton and dyed a deep, bright shade of crimson, and the eye catching fabric was decorated with a really delicate motif depicting tiny summer songbirds cavorting about on flowering branches. The little blonde was immediately mesmerized by the lovely fabric, and before she could stop herself, she had reached out to lightly and reverently touch the cloth, apparently having never seen anything so pretty before.

Shinji watched with bemusement as she fingered the cloth, entranced. “…Ya really like this one, huh?” he asked, and the child quickly snapped out of her daze. She went stiff when she realized what she was doing, and Hiyori immediately took her hand off of the fabric and hid the errant limb behind her back instead, her face burning slightly as she bit her lip uncertainly and looked unsure of herself. Once again, Shinji was abruptly reminded of just how different she was right now compared to the woman she would grow into in the future. This Hiyori was still a bit shy and tentatively cautious of the world that moved around her, and he found this side of her to be extremely endearing. Gesturing to the crimson fabric that had caught the young girl’s fancy, Shinji simply told the female shop assistant.

“Please use this cloth ‘ta make a yukata for this child.”

“Of course, Taichou-sama,” the attendant agreed quite amicably. “I shall get to it immediately.”

The rest of the materials were quickly chosen, and through it all, Hiyori just stared at the tall blonde man with something akin to wonder and bewilderment. Sometime without even her noticing, the child was clinging to her guardian with one hand fisted in his haori once more, and she was okay with that, because for some reason that she did not quite understand herself, she felt really safe with him.

Less than an hour later, Shinji and his young charge could be found at the latter’s favorite yakiniku restaurant and the younger blonde was busily stuffing her face with platters of luscious, juicy cooked slices of beef fresh off the stove while her older counterpart grilled the raw, seasoned meat over the barbeque griddle for her, exactly as he had promised. It hadn’t taken very long for them to get things settled at the kimono shop and Hiyori had been getting increasingly antsy by then, though now that her hunger was being slowly assuaged, the child was content once more and simply happy to be able to eat.

Shinji was rather bemused as he watched the young girl devour all the food placed before her like a starving beast. For a child still of tender age and possessing a significantly slight and scrawny build, she sure could eat.

“Slow down,” he cautioned her then when she nearly choked on a too large piece of meat. “No one’s gonna steal yer food, so take yer time and eat slowly.”

Coughing slightly to dislodge the troublesome piece of beef from her throat, Hiyori turned to him with slightly watering eyes. “Am hungry,” she mumbled after swallowing the mouthful of meat. Hunkering over her plate defensively, she kept her head down and continued to chow down on her late lunch. She started to eat slightly slower though, but still savoring the food with great gusto and appetite. Shinji eyed her curiously.

“When’s the last time ya got ‘ta eat, brat?” he asked. She stopped chewing her food and looked at him briefly before she just shook her head.

“Don’t remember,” she muttered, pausing to think before she continued with a shrug. “M’always hungry, though.”

He wasn't entirely surprised by her reply. Akon and Nemu had briefly informed him that the youth potion had only caused her physical form and mind to revert to their younger states, so even though the tiny blonde could vaguely recall a faint ripple of the sensations and feelings associated with her distant past, it wasn't as if her past body had been literally transported to the present – she had only been de-aged, and had not time travelled.

"Well then," he responded after a pause. "Ya may eat as much as ya want.”

Hiyori stopped and eyed the man.

“How come yer so nice ‘ta me?” she asked suspiciously, openly baffled at the same time. She sounded like she genuinely did not comprehend her sudden stroke of good luck, and the fact that she was only so young but already so wary and jaded made him feel regretful for her. This child was not the Hiyori whom he knew and loved – not yet, at any rate. She was still a bit less guarded, a bit more innocent, but already he could see the beginnings of that grit and mule headed stubbornness that would characterize her in the future.

"I told ya already - I'm yer Prince Charmin'," Shinji responded at last, at the same time picking a few more pieces of the grilled meat from the griddle and laying it on her plate. "Don't talk so much; eat up."

But the little girl just continued to look at him for a while, her head slightly tilted as if she was trying her best to figure him out, those bright ochre eyes of hers centered on him with an intelligence and sharpness that were beyond her years. In the end, he must have passed whatever test that she had in her mind, at least for now, for Hiyori promptly turned back her focus to eating once again. Eventually, the tiny blonde ate so much that she nearly could not move and started to look a bit green around the gills from the excessive bingeing; Shinji had to put his foot down when she still refused to stop despite of that, and had to promise her that they would be back again some other day before she reluctantly quit stuffing herself. She still did not budge when it was time for them to leave, though, but that was due to another reason altogether.

Shinji raised his brow ever so slightly at the red faced young girl. “…Lemme guess. Ya ate so well that ya can’t move?”

The child scowled slightly at him, but the way she did not refute his observation told him that he was right. In the end, she had to be piggybacked out of the establishment, and even though it looked a bit strange for a Shinigami Captain to be doing such things, nobody dared to comment beyond the startled stares, and the chagrin of the visibly embarrassed little blonde tucked meekly against her guardian’s back radiated all around her.

“Yer gettin’ kinda heavy, ‘lil piggy.” Shinji remarked innocuously as they made their way back to the Fifth Division.

“S-Shut up!” she sputtered, indignant and getting all righteously puffed up immediately. “I ain’t a pig!!”

If the child was just a little bit more observant, she would have wondered how come this man seemed to be so at ease carrying her about, and that he also seemed to know all the right things to say to make her feel less awkward and self-conscious and uncomfortable. It was too bad that he did it so well and so naturally that she did not even notice the way he could so easily engage her and get her to respond to him.

“Yeah, yeah. Stop squirmin’. And I’m tellin’ ya, if ya puke on me, I’m droppin’ yer ass.”

“If ya drop me, then I’ll definitely puke on ya again!!”

                                                                  ::tsuzuku::