#like i had finals. and i just woke up in a frenzy. to draw them.

[dhmis-autism]

god thinking abt duck and yg thinking abt my fav duo i love them so much i love them i love them i love them

[phoebecarver]

draw of the luck self para locations: fuel frenzy, kismet harbor hospital tw: appendicitis, emergency surgery, illness

What time is it? She thought as she stirred in the backseat of her car. She was shivering despite it not being too cold, but then again, she was still accumulating to the change of temperature from the heat of New York and her travels across the country in the middle of summer. Though the dull ache in her stomach made her think that maybe she was coming down with something. Phoebe wasn't one to get sick, but maybe all the stress and change was catching up to her. She groaned as she sat up and took a drink of her water before starting the car and going to The Daily Drip to get some coffee.

Coffee may have been a bad idea. Her stomach was turning and she swore the pain was getting worse. Maybe a nap would do the trick. It helped sometimes when she was younger. Phoebe moved her seat back and tried to get as comfortable as possible, but it felt like it just made everything worse. The thought struck her mind that maybe she should call out of work, but as she looked at the time on her phone, it was too late to do that without getting into trouble and she couldn’t afford that. So, she put the seat up, drove to the gas station, slipped on her shirt, and went inside.

The manager, Faith, asked if she was okay. Phoebe, of course, lied and said she felt fine. She felt cold, though, and when she rubbed her forehead, it was damp. She probably looked paler than she already was and she kept gripping onto the counter to try to distract her body from the pain in her stomach. The nausea just kept coming and as the time kept moving so slowly, everything kept feeling like it was going from bad to worse. Eventually, she couldn’t fight it anymore and ran towards the bathroom to get sick.

That’s when things ended at its peak. Getting sick made the pain skyrocket and she doubled over; crying out in pain. Hearing a knock on the door and Faith’s voice, Phoebe gritted her teeth as she reached up and opened the door. The shock on Faith's face said it all to Phoebe that something was really wrong. Helping her up, Faith took her out of the bathroom and told the other cashier she was taking her to the hospital. They got into her car and all Phoebe could think about on the drive was how much she was in pain.

The second they arrived, she was wheeled back to an examination room. The test started to begin and all she could do was panic about the money. She tried to tell them all she was fine. The pain, however, said otherwise and eventually it was concluded that she was having appendicitis and needed surgery. She couldn’t argue, she knew how serious it was, so she was put under and went into surgery.

Two hours later, she woke up in a hospital room with Faith sitting there. She told her the surgery went well and if everything went okay the rest of the evening, she could leave in the morning. Phoebe tried to say that she didn’t want that and that she was fine, but Faith told her to say and once she was released, she could stay with her for a few days to rest up. She tried to decline it, but she insisted and besides, where was she to go? She couldn’t call up her uncle or finally reach out to her dad and be like “Hey, I’m your daughter and I just had emergency surgery, can I stay with you?” So, she agreed. Better with her than in her car or the homeless shelter. It’d be fine for a few days at least. 

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 8

Chapter 1     Chapter 7

“Your father is Bruce Wayne and now he wants to reconnect,” Nino recapped as though anyone involved in the call was unaware. From the look Chloe gave him, he was particularly happy she was in New York not Paris and couldn’t actually smack him upside the head.

“Thank you for that waste of time and breath,” Chloe grumbled.

“I just… don’t see the problem.”  Nino did actually move away from Alya before she could swat him.  “What?  Your dad is Bruce freaking Wayne!  Even if you don’t connect with him, you can totally draw on that Wayne money.”

He wasn’t fast enough to move away from her smack that time.  “Ow!” he pouted at Alya.

“It’s not about the money!” Alya groaned, already exasperated by him.  “It’s about him not wanting to have a relationship until the press found out.  It’s about him cutting her out but taking in a gaggle of other kids.”  Nino lightly shoved Alya’s shoulder and motioned toward Marinette’s expression on the screen.  Alya grimaced and gave him a nod of understanding.

Marinette looked down and pursed her lips to keep from frowning.  It was bad enough thinking it in her own head constantly, but hearing it out loud, repeated back to her?  That made it so much worse.  That made her feelings real.  That legitimized her feelings.  She couldn’t pretend like she was just overreacting.  They were justified.  Which meant she couldn’t just freeze them out.  Or rather she shouldn’t.  She had to face them.

She focused her energy on not changing her body language so she didn’t worry Adrien any more than he was already.  Keeping her body relaxed instead of tensing up.  Adrien had gone into a frenzied panic when he and Max had returned from their apartment search to find her collapsed on the floor, blocking the door. She’d missed the worst of it according to what Tikki said, but she still remembered the terrified look in his eyes when she woke up.  He hadn’t left her side since, keeping constant physical contact.  

Max seemed to inherently understand the situation and was jumping up to get anything either of them might need so they didn’t have to abandon each other for even a few moments.  She was eternally grateful to him for it because she wasn’t sure who the physical proximity was having more of a calming effect on, her or Adrien, but regardless, they both needed it.  

Her attempt to not react didn’t seem to have been as effective as she thought it had been judging by the way Adrien hugged her closer to him.  Marinette lightly bonked her head into his chest and returned her attention to the laptop screen.  “It’s okay, Nino,” Marinette assured him weakly.

“No it isn’t,” Chloe said over her.  “Both of you need to stop talking.”  She flipped a page in her magazine and looked up at the screen.  “I mean, that’s true in general, but especially during this call.” Her eyes were sharp when she looked up but Marinette could see the concern she was trying to hide by focusing on her magazine.  She wasn’t sure what Adrien had told them about how he found her but she could tell it was enough to scare them too.

Marinette rolled her eyes at Chloe.  “Yes, it is.”

Chloe groaned.  “This is the way we work Dupain Cheng.  You and Adrien let people walk all over you, Nino keeps the peace, Alya starts trouble, and I tell people the truth and to back the fuck off when it’s warranted.”

“Which never starts trouble,” Alya snarked.

“I do not let people walk all over me!” Adrien objected, looking around for support. Marinette gave a curt nod of agreement, but Max was avoiding his eyes and Chloe was staring at him flatly.

“No, you don’t let people walk all over us,” she motioned toward the screen, trying to indicate the rest of them.  “But you let everyone walk all over you.”  Her eyes moved slightly and her eyes narrowed slightly.  “You both do.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose at the screen with a pout.  “I stood up to you,” she groused.

Chloe scoffed.  “And it only took you like ten years to do it.  So proud of you.”  She rolled her eyes so strongly, her entire head moved as she did it.

Marinette’s mouth dropped in offense.  “I’m better now.”

“Are you, though?  Really?” Chloe deadpanned.

Marinette pouted.  “Yes!”

“Statistically, she is accurate,” Max added.  “She does stand up for herself more now than when we were younger.”  Marinette pursed her lips at Max, unsure how to respond to his comment.  On one hand, it defended her.  On the other hand, she did not at all appreciate how he stressed the word ‘statistically’ and she was certain everyone else caught that as well.

Chloe opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Nino. Marinette sighed in relief until she started processing his words.  “I get that it’s hard and it hurts, I guess I just thought you wouldn’t take it this hard. After Jagged with Luka and Juleka and your grandfather… you forgave all of them.  You helped Jagged with Luka and Juleka, making sure their relationship didn’t go bad.”  He motioned vaguely at nothing.  “You seemed to brush it off and take it as a challenge.  So why isn’t this?”

Alya dropped her head in her hands.  “Tact, Nino.  God.”

“No, he’s not wrong.”  Marinette frowned as she thought about his words.  “I went after Grand-père and convinced him to reconnect.  Papa never held it against him so I guess I didn’t either. Luka never held it against Jagged, just moved forward.  Maybe it’s just me.  Maybe…”

“No!” Adrien interrupted before she could follow that train of thought any further. He gently turned her toward him to focus her attention on him.  “There’s nothing wrong with you or how you’re reacting.  There’s no wrong way to react to news like this.  If you feel sad, that’s fine.  If you feel annoyed, that’s fine.  If you feel frustrated, that’s okay.  If you want to just move past it, there’s nothing wrong with that.  If you feel angry, that’s okay.  And if you feel like you need space, that’s okay too. There’s no wrong way to react to this,” he repeated.

“Except however Chloe would respond,” Alya added with a smirk.

“Hey!” Chloe objected loudly, glaring at the screen, but with no real heat behind it. “For the record, how I would respond to news like this is to spend all my new found father’s money, pressing my boundaries until he finally said something.  And if he didn’t say anything, I’d use those billions to do whatever the fuck I wanted and never see him in person.”

Marinette blinked at Chloe, as did the rest of the group.  That was certainly… an option.  Not one Marinette would ever choose, but it was…  Marinette started giggling at the idea.  Adrien joined her quickly while Max, Alya, and Nino watched them worriedly.  Chloe rolled her eyes and flipped the page in her magazine, but the corners of her lips quirked up.

“He is correct,” Max added, bringing them back to the original point.  “There are a variety of ways people will react to finding out they have a parent they didn’t know about.  Markov found hundreds of studies on psychological responses to similar news and responses are extremely varied.”

“Juleka had a harder time with accepting it and connecting to Jagged than Luka did, remember?” Adrien pointed out.  “And there’s nothing wrong with her.  She wasn’t wrong to react that way, right?”  Marinette shook her head reluctantly.  It wasn’t that she thought there was anything wrong with the way Juleka reacted, but in agreeing with Adrien’s observation, she would have to agree with his point that she was allowed to freak out about this instead of ignoring it like she wanted to.

“Marinette,” Alya raised her voice to bring attention back to her.  “You can do anything you want here and we’ll support you. You know that.  No matter how this ends we all love you.  No matter how you react, we’ll love you.  Nobody is going to judge you for any decision.”

Chloe scoffed.  She waited until everyone was looking, or in Alya and Adrien’s cases, glaring at her. “What?  You want me to lie to her?”  She looked incredulously at the other faces on the video call.  “We won’t judge.  Hell, I’m willing to scratch his eyes out in public for you.  But, your name was already getting out there and his name, now yours, is on the largest corporation in the world.  Every news and gossip organization is going to be talking about it forever if you guys don’t make a good show of it.”

“So?” Alya demanded incredulously.  “She should just do whatever is best for publicity?”

“Did I say that?” Chloe scoffed.  She finally put her magazine down to show how serious she was taking the conversation. “When have I ever let the threat of bad publicity stop me from doing something?  I just said it would be out there, not that she should care.  It’s a factor, a big one when she’s figuring out what she wants.”

“What do you want?” Adrien asked gently, turning his attention back to Marinette.

Marinette looked at Adrien for a few seconds while her brain whirred at high speed thinking through all the options.  What did she want?  None of this. That’s what she wanted.  After a few seconds she took a breath and let it out. “What I want is to not have to deal with any of this.  What I want is to not be his daughter.  What I want is to figure out where we want to live and work and start a company there like we planned.  What I want is to live a normal life now.”  She ignored Chloe’s scoff.  “What I want…” she sighed and looked away.  “What I want doesn’t matter.”

Chloe huffed almost loudly enough for it to echo.  “Of course it matters, it just doesn’t change the past or the current situation.  But, you control your next steps.  So Ladybug this bitch.  Some egomaniacal, rich, pampered megalomaniac has created an utterly ridiculous problem that you now have to fix.  This is your specialty.  Show this bastard who he walked out on.  Make him regret not dying with his parents.”

“Woah! What the Hell?” Nino exclaimed. “Too far.”

Chloe scoffed and looked back at her nails.  “If you think that was too far, you should have heard what I wanted to say.  I toned it way down for your sensitive ears,” she added condescendingly.  She just barely looked up when Marinette started giggling.  Chloe’s lips quirked up the more Marinette tried to stifle the slightly unhinged sounding giggles.

“Dude, that’s her grandparents…” Nino whisper shouted.  Marinette suddenly sobered and paled in realization.

“Or!” Adrien interjected with false excitement positioning himself between Marinette and the screen.  “Or, you could, you know, try to build a relationship with him.”  He looked decidedly away from the incredulous looks from Alya and Chloe and the doubtful look from Nino on screen, trying to pretend like they weren’t judging him.  He moved closer to Marinette and took her hands in his giving her a sincere, serious look.  “You have someone, your father, who wants to connect to you.”  

He ignored the loud scoff from the computer and continued as though Alya or Chloe, or both, hadn’t verbalized their opinion.  They clearly weren’t that opposed or they would have said it instead of making a noise.  He “accidentally” closed the video chat and gave Max a pointed look.  

Max nodded slowly.  “I’m just going to go to my room for a few minutes.  Let me know if you want to talk.”

Marinette and Adrien both shot him thankful smiles.  Adrien waited until his door was closed before looking back at Marinette with a concerned look.  “You got screwed in this deal.  Nobody can deny that, and however you feel, that’s real and valid.  It’s okay to be hurt.  It’s okay to be scared.  It’s okay to say this is too much for you right now, or ever.  But, do you really want to walk away?  Not connect to him?  Not try?”

“He didn’t want…” Marinette started weakly.

“Maybe he wasn’t ready,” he cut her off before she could spiral again.  “Maybe this is the universe’s way to saying it’s time. You got the embodiment of luck in your pocket.  Is it really so farfetched to think luck played a role?”

“Bad luck,” Marinette scoffed to the floor.  Adrien gently rapped her on the top of her head with his knuckle.  She looked back up and caught his unimpressed look. Marinette sighed and looked away before looking back up at him uncertainly.  “I don’t know…”

“Do you think you want to try?” Tikki asked floating out of her resting spot. “It’s your choice.  But I don’t think this is going away, so whichever decision you go with you’ll have to face the consequences.”

“Or I could just cataclysm him,” Plagg offered rubbing his paws together.  He darted away from Tikki before she could shut him up.

“No!” Marinette and Adrien chorused at the same time.

Adrien glared at Plagg but made sure to soften his eyes before looking back at Marinette.  “Okay, maybe things don’t work out with him.  But it sounds like you have siblings.  You already like Jason.  Maybe you’ll like them too.”  He gave her a small smile and rubbed her arms soothingly.  “You always wanted siblings.”

Marinette gave him a weak smile back.  “I don’t need siblings anymore.  I have you.  That’s more than enough.  I don’t think I could handle more of yous.”

Adrien scoffed good naturedly at her.  “If anything I’ve made having siblings more appealing.”

Marinette scoffed playfully.  “Keep telling yourself that,” she muttered.

He pulled her into a hug.  “You always wanted more.  And it sounds like you might have sisters.”

“More people he adopted after walking away,” Marinette groused into his shirt.

Adrien hugged her tighter.  “Maybe he had a reason?  Or maybe he just royally messed up.  Maybe he hates himself for the decision.  It’s something you won’t find out unless you stay.  And you can just talk once and see how you feel about it. If it doesn’t go well, you can walk away and we can find that bar Roy mentioned.  If it goes well, you can decide to stay or we can decide to move to New York or Metropolis, like we were thinking and you can still see him every so often.”

“Even if it doesn’t go perfectly,” Tikki added softly, “it’ll give you closure.  You deserve to have that.”

“And you’ll wonder what could have happened if you don’t,” Adrien nudged her gently.  “You know you’re going to regret not trying.”

“So is that an absolute no on the cataclysm idea,” Plagg popped up between them.  “Because I’m still willing.”

Marinette rolled her eyes at him but shot him a grateful smile.  It was as close as Plagg got to admitting he cared.  She scratched him on the forehead and looked back to Adrien with a frown.  “I don’t think I can handle this.”

“I’ll stay with you.  And Max will be here.  Tikki will be here for you.  Plagg will be here, but don’t let that deter you…”

“Hey!” Plagg pouted.

Adrien continued without acknowledging him.  “Chloe could be here in a few hours if we needed and she’d drop everything to get here, no matter what she says.  Alya and Nino will only be a phone call away.  We will support you no matter what you want to do. But we can’t make this decision for you, so, the question is what do you want to do?”

Marinette groaned and pouted at him.  “You sure you can’t do this for me?”

Adrien gave her a sympathetic look and shook his head. “Not this time, Bug.”  He waited a few minutes for her to think through her options.  When she looked just as lost after another few minutes after that, he spoke up gently. “Do you want to talk to Sabine and Tom first?  They might have some answers you need to make your decision.”

Marinette looked back up at him with a pathetic looking pout.  “Can’t I just sleep through this instead?”

Adrien chuckled and shook his head, relieved she was now in a light enough mood to make jokes.  “You could,” he nodded and put on a mock serious face, “but your problems will still be there when you woke up.”

“What bullshit,” she scoffed in a weak voice.

Adrien nodded.  “Yep, utter bullshit.”

Marinette kept eye contact with him for a few moments waiting for him to impart some kind of insightful wisdom upon her.  When he held silent and let her make her own decision, she whimpered and looked away.  “What if it isn’t him I cataclysm,” Plagg asked, flying between them.  “I could do it to his house instead… a few of his cars?  Rich people always have too many cars.”

Adrien grabbed him out of the air and shoved him in his pocket with an exasperated groan.  But Marinette giggled again.  When her laughter had settled, she took a deep breath and motioned toward her phone. Adrien smiled at her as he placed it in her hand.  She took a deep breath and pulled out the paper M. Wayne had given her.  She dialed one of the numbers before she could talk herself out of it, which knowing herself could happen if she was given more than a few seconds to think, and looked up to Adrien, letting his soft smile ground her.  “M. Wayne? It’s Marinette.  Would you be free for dinner tonight?”

Chapter 9

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone@ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark 

[lemonzestywrites]

sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

paring: buck x eddie

word count: 2,268

tw: panic attacks, implied claustrophobia 

[ao3 link]

_____

Buck has never been a fan of the dark. Especially as a child, the thought alone had brought along too many nightmares and memories of running to Maddie’s room to make her double-check for monsters under his bed. It doesn’t bother him as much anymore, but still, every now and again, on nights where his anxiety is all too present for his liking, the same twinge of uneasiness will find itself scratching away at his brain.

He hasn’t felt it in a while, but that itch has been sitting at the base of his subconscious since he’s clocked in for his shift, and now Buck can’t help but be on edge. He tries his best to ignore it and go on with his day, but the next 12 hours tick by with a foreboding weariness he can’t quite place.

The hospital only makes it worse. The plain white walls, the PA system going off every other minute, the frigid cold that sticks to his skin, he hates all of it. There’s a small voice in the back of his head that wonders if it’s just the result of having been admitted so many times. It doesn’t feel like all too sure of reasoning, but he’d rather not linger on the thought too long. So instead, Buck settles for it and chalks it up to nerves, making a mental note to bring it up during his next session with Dr. Copeland. Until then, he should be fine.

Emphasis on should.

Because apparently, the universe gets a real kick out of watching Buck suffer since it wasn’t enough that the hospital’s power went out- no, the entire fucking city got hit with a widespread blackout. And if that wasn’t worrying enough, Eddie hasn’t been answering his radio, and Buck’s phone isn’t working either. He does his best to stay calm, really he does, but with every passing minute of radio silence, the sick coil of nerves knotted in his stomach only gets tighter and tighter.

After 10 minutes of no response, Bobby had given Buck the go-ahead to go look for Eddie, and that’s all he needed before he’s off, weaving through the halls of the hospital heading to where he’d seen him last. If it weren’t for whatever shred of self-control in him, Buck would probably be sprinting through the building by now.

Eddie’s been back to work for only about a couple weeks now. And he’s doing great (obviously, he wouldn’t have gotten cleared to go back if he wasn’t). Buck is happy for him- happy that his best friend is back. God knows the last couple of months had been rough without Eddie, he had spent the last couple of years carving out and filling a special place in the station especially reserved for him, and then all of a sudden, it had been vacant again.

Buck is excited that he’s working again, really he is. But now the energy between them feels…different, and he knows why- they both do. It’s not like Buck had expected them to come back completely fine either. But even months after the shooting, they still have yet to talk about any of it. A part of him feels like they should, but in the months he stayed over at Eddie’s, helping out however he could during his recovery, Buck could see the toll everything had taken on him, both physically and mentally. Eddie didn’t seem ready to unpack that with him yet, and Buck wasn’t going to push him.

It’s fine. He knows Eddie has been going back to therapy. They’ll talk whenever he’s ready.

Buck does his best to give Eddie his space, let him, you know, do his job, but the past weeks feel like he’s been doing nothing but living on the edge. Every time Eddie’s out of his sight for too long, he can hear a voice screaming at him, ‘Where is he? Is he okay? Find him. Protect him. Find him. You said you’d have his back. Your fault. Your fault. Your fa-’

Then Eddie will turn the corner, and Buck’s lungs will release a breath he hadn’t known he was holding on to. He hopes it’ll take the fear, too, that with every sigh won’t just be a release of pressure but help let go of the irrational worry he has. But it never does. It eats away at him, taunting him with the idea that Eddie might get hurt again, but this time Buck won’t be there to help him.

(God, they really should talk.)

He still doesn’t bring it up. Instead, Buck sets aside his apprehension and tries not to indulge in the panicked voice in his subconscious. He’s been getting better at it.

At least he was.

All it took was 15- no, 16 minutes now- of radio silence for Buck’s heart to start pounding against his chest in rapid succession. For the nervousness to shoot through his veins, thrumming all the way down to the tips of fingers as they twitch with a numbing unease. He treads through the halls keeping his head on a swivel, alert and attentive to trying to find his best friend in the sea of patients and doctors. Eddie’s probably somewhere in the hospital helping out the staff; he is a medic after all. Yet despite any amount of reasoning Buck tries to apply, the sickening feeling in his stomach doesn’t seem to dissipate. It’s been 16 minutes, and he hasn’t had any luck. He’s even circled the floor twice just to be sure, but still, nothing.

He’s considering doing another lap when he hears it- the distant noise of someone banging on metal coming from behind the elevator doors. The sound is so faint, paired with the loud frenzy of the rest of the hospital floor, that Buck almost doesn’t hear it.

He rushes to the doors, pressing his ear flushed against it. He can hear someone yelling, but the voice is too muffled to make out what they’re saying.

“Eddie?” He calls out, no doubt getting a couple odd looks from the passing medical staff, but he pays them no mind. He bangs on the doors a couple times before yelling again louder, “Eddie! It’s Buck- can you hear me?”

There’s a beat of silence before the pounding continues again, this time with much more force in response. Buck doesn’t waste any time before he digs his fingers between the doors, using everything he has to pry them apart. The muscles in his shoulders and arms strain, but the creaking of metal offers enough motive to keep him going. Even if it’s not Eddie, it still means someone’s trapped down there.

(A selfish part of him still hopes, though.)

Once the doors are opened wide enough for him, Buck drops to his stomach to peer down into the elevator currently caught between two floors. Even with the little light he does have, he sees a curled-up shadow crouched in the corner below him, “Eddie?”

The person shifts, “Buck?”

There’s nothing more Buck wants than to revel in the relief he feels when he finally hears Eddie’s voice, but it quickly scatters when he notices the trembling panic coated in his tone.

“It’s me,” Buck reassures with as much steadiness he can force out and just hopes that Eddie doesn’t hear the way his voice shakes out the words. “Are you okay?”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath. “I don’t know. I-I can’t breathe.”

Buck’s mind starts to spin, panicking on what to do now. The gap in between the doors isn’t that big, so it’s not like he can slip down there with Eddie or pull him out either. He has enough sensibility to grab at his radio to at least let Bobby aware of his status, “Cap, I found Eddie. He’s trapped in an elevator stuck between the 7th and 6th floors.”

A few seconds pass before he hears Bobby’s voice on the other end, “Okay, we’re working on getting the hospital’s backup generator working. Stay with him until we can get it back online, then we’ll head up to you.”

Eddie lets out a strangled noise at his words. The twinge of panic in Buck’s stomach only coils tighter when he realizes how Eddie’s breathing seems to pick up, now coming out in quick hallow shivers.

‘He’s having a panic attack.’ Buck realizes.

It takes less than a couple seconds after for Buck to murmur a hasty “copy that” into his radio before he readjusts his focus back to his friend.

He’s not unfamiliar with panic attacks, his or Eddie’s, most of which being the results of nightmares that seem to linger when dusk settles. During the last few months, Buck has lost count of the nights that either one of them has woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, and in the midst of alarm and fear, craving a recognizable magnetism of being held. A silent want to be assured protection and comforted.

It’s sick now. How there’s nothing more Buck desires than to provide that same security now, but the small two-foot gap between the elevator doors draws out to what feels like miles of distance.

Even though he can’t crawl down there with him, Buck finds himself reaching into the elevator shaft as far as he can, “Eddie, can you grab onto my hand for me?” Listen- he knows what he’s doing isn’t entirely safe, sticking his arm into an elevator that hasn’t been secure yet. But the sound of Eddie’s breath coming out in nothing but shaky huffs is more than enough to make him forgo any logic.

From within the enclosure of the elevator, he feels Eddie grasp his hand with an iron grip, the distress trembling at his fingers.

“Hey, I’m here, I’m right here, alright?” Buck presses the conviction through his tone, his best attempt to override his own uncertainty. “Do you think you can try and take some deep breaths?”

Buck can faintly make out the silhouette of Eddie nodding, “Y-Yeah,” he mutters. “Yeah, I can try.”

“We can do them together,” Buck offers. He takes a deep breath himself, and from below him, he hears Eddie take one too. Unconsciously, Buck starts to tighten his hold in tandem with their breathing, squeezing his hand on an inhale, loosening his grasp on the exhale. He hadn’t really realized he’s doing it until after a couple breaths, Eddie starts doing it too. And with each squeeze, his grasp slowly becomes more determined and less shaky. It doesn’t take long for them to eventually sync up for the tremor in Eddie’s hands to fade.

A couple more moments pass, and his breathing begins to steady more.

“How you doing down there, Eds?”

“Can you…”, he clears his throat, an attempt to hide how wrecked he sounds. “Can you talk to me?- About anything, it doesn’t matter.”

Buck rattles his brain for something, anything to talk about before he remembers the nature documentary he had watched several nights prior, “Did you know toucans are born blind?”

He hears Eddie laugh; it comes out breathless and nervous, but it’s a laugh nonetheless, “Really?”

“Yeah, ironically enough, they also aren’t great at flying either. They usually hop from one branch to another to get where they want to go.”

“Tell me more?” He asks, his voice quiet.

Buck smiles and keeps going, rambling about birds for a while. He doesn’t really know for how long, and at some point, he loses his awareness of what he’s saying, more focused on Eddie than anything else. Faintly, he wonders if his arm is getting tired by now.

“You know, Chris has been learning about biomes and ecosystems in school…he’d love to hear all this stuff.”

“You can tell him all about it after work.” He reassures.

Eddie’s hand twitches in his palm. “How much longer?” Buck can hear the dread creeping back into his tone.

“I…”

Not too long. He wants to promise, but the words get caught in his throat. There are a lot of things Buck can do- lying to Eddie isn’t one of them. “I-I don’t know.” He finally admits, the shame dripping down from him. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

Eddie laughs, yet this time there’s no shred of humor in his voice, “I’m not sure if I can last any longer down here, Buck.” God, he sounds on the verge of tears.

“What can I do?” Fuck, at this point, Buck would do anything. Hell, he’d pull the damn elevator up himself if he had to. Whatever it would take to get Eddie back on safe ground.

“Just-” A pained noise escapes him, “Please don’t leave.”

Buck swears his heart fucking shatters. “Hey.” Even though he can’t see exactly where Eddie is, he does his best to look him in the eye before he squeezes his hand, “I’m not leaving your side, okay?”

The first thing Buck’s fire instructor had said during his training at the academy was never make a promise you can’t keep. Buck knows how important promises are to people, especially in states of emergencies. In the middle of chaos, those two words are all anyone needs to cling to. So that’s why, when Eddie looks at him, with what little light there is provided catching the edges of his watery eyes laced in fear and worry, Buck doesn’t hesitate to grip his hand as tight as he can. To hold on and look at Eddie with all the conviction and certainty he has and tell him,

“I promise.”

[kiraakirana]

a place to start - h. kakashi

It has been a few days since the construction next to Y/N's house started. Day and night was filled with hammering sounds, and to make it worse, it was right next to her bed. As a result, she couldn't sleep for days. Kakashi, who had been one of her longest friend, noticed how restless she was because she couldn't perform up to her usual standard during missions.

"What's up with you these days?" he asked while sitting down next to her.

"I haven't slept in days. The construction next to my house continues even at night, damn it," she replied groggily, resting her dizzy head against the tree trunk.

It was a few minutes before Kakashi opened his mouth to speak again but this time, he said something truly out of character, "Want to stay by my place?"

Y/N slowly processed his words and turned his head to look at him questionably, eyebrows furrowed. "I mean, it's okay if you don't want to. It's just that you have low iron or something right? It could take a toll on the success of the mission if you're sick."

Y/N bursted out laughing, hearing Kakashi trying to explain himself while scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "You know, that was so out of character. You're such a private person so this is kind of new. Anyways, thanks, Kakashi. I'd drop by your place tonight."

-

So that was how Y/N end up on Kakashi's bed while he lied on the couch. It had been an hour since she laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling because no matter how tight she close her eyes, she couldn't put her mind at ease. She saw Kakashi reading his book and sat up. "Kakashi, why don't you just sleep next to me?"

"Huh?"

"Sleep next to me," she said, patting the empty space next to her, "I feel kind of bad if I sleep here and you on the couch. I'm not a messy sleeper, so you don't have to worry about being knocked over," she grins, tucking her messy hair behind her ears.

"Are you sure about that? I'm fine with being here, you know. I usually don't sleep anyway."

Noticing how Kakashi seemed set on his decision of not moving, Y/N walked to him and linked her arm to his, dragging him to the bed. "If I'm with you, you have to sleep. You're going to die from your lack of sleep someday if you keep doing that."

"Is that even possible?"

"I don't know," Y/N said, laughing a little. Kakashi chuckled and ended up sitting next to her, a book on his hand as she drifted off to sleep. When Y/N woke up an hour later to check on Kakashi, she saw him sleeping peacefully. Not used to seeing Kakashi like this, Y/N smiled to herself. She knew Kakashi suffers from insomia due to everything that happened in his past. She can't help but worry about him most of the time, despite knowing how much of an excellent shinobi he is. Therefore she was glad to see him in such tranquility, it's the least she could do.

-

It was around 2 in the morning when Y/N heard Kakashi's heavy and irregular breathing. He was sitting up straight with his hand covering his face. "Kakashi, what happened?" she asked worriedly as she sat facing him.

"Sorry," he whispered weakly, "I woke you up, didn't I?"

Y/N has lost all her rationality and didn't think about it when she pulled him in for a hug, resting her head on his shoulder. She ran her fingers through his white hair soothingly, "Shh, nevermind that." She pulled him closer so that they could share her body warmth since she noticed how cold he was, "It's okay, now. I'm here," she calmly said.

She knew it had to be one of his mental breakdown from a nightmare he must've had. She knew from the longest time that Kakashi was always suppressing his emotions. In a way, they're the same. They both had no one to confide into. She knew how lonely that feeling is, so now that she's here, she didn't want Kakashi to feel go through that alone. She often wished that she has someone by her side during her nervous breakdown, therefore she wanted to be there for Kakashi.

She also knew loneliness is hard to erase, especially if you had been so used to it. But if her presence could make even the slightest difference in his life, then she's willing to do whatever it takes, no matter how long.

She felt Kakashi shivering so she started drawing small circles on his back to calm him down. Once she felt that he had regained his regular breathing, she pulled him away as she stared into his eyes and unmasked face, hands resting on his shoulder.

She started caressing the scar below his eye and gave him a smile. "Kakashi, please know that you're not alone. I will always be with you when you need me, you don't have to shoulder your pain alone, you know. I'm willing to share it with you.

And your past, we both know we can't change them. They make us who we are. In other words, past is bittersweet. But despite everything, despite what your past may be, I'll accept you for who you are. Because the present you has become very important to me," she took a deep breath as she studied his face which he kept hidden from everyone. "And more than everything in the world, I don't want to lose you. So, thank you, for surviving until now."

The next thing she did was something done unconsciously and without much thinking about the consequences it may bring. She rested both of her palms on Kakashi's cheeks and leaned in, planting a soft kiss on the scar below his left eye.

Realizing what she had done, she dropped her hand and hung her head embarrassedly, "I'm sorry." It was also an effort to hide her blushing cheeks because she was feeling hot all over. Has she lost her mind? What on earth was she thinking?

Kakashi suddenly grabbed her hand and brought her closer. There was almost no space between them. Her heart was beating like crazy. She was afraid that he could hear the loud beatings because then he would know how much she's in a disarray right now.

Kakashi looked at her eyes in a way he had never before. There was a hint of gratefulness and determination in his eyes before they dropped to her lips. He leaned in and kissed them slowly but immediately pulled away as he wasn't sure if she wanted it or not.

Y/N who felt her knees went weak, was sure she could turn into a puddle of water at any given minute. She turned her head away, trying to hide the rosy tint of her cheeks. Kakashi dropped his head on her shoulder and said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Surprised because he seemed to misunderstand, Y/N grabbed his shoulders and brought her hands to his cheeks before pulling him in for another kiss. This one to reassure him, that she too, felt the same way. For a very long time now, to be honest. But it was today that she finally came into peace with how she was feeling, no longer in denial about it and no longer trying to refuse it.

It was another short kiss. She was nervous and she wasn't exactly experienced on kissing. Kakashi on the other hand, was a very experienced kisser. He knew exactly how to put butterflies in her stomach (an in other areas as well, lol jk).

They pulled away for a second. Registering everything that had happened. Deciding that they both want more since those two short kisses don't seem to pay for the amount of years that they've both spent liking each other in secret, Kakashi leaned in and once he's close enough, Kakashi whispered, "Thank you, Y/N," before kissing her again. This one is long and passionate. She swore to God she could feel Kakashi saying 'I love you' against her lips. Damn, her head's in a frenzy and she felt her entire body heating up.

Still feeling very shy, once they pulled away from each other, Y/N buried her head in the crook of Kakashi's neck. She was a blushing mess. What she didn't know was Kakashi also has the same tint on his cheeks. They both ended up laughing while still embracing each other. Praying to God or whoever it is above to stop the time for a while.

She didn't know what she has done to earn herself a very precious person. Kakashi who was always followed by the shadow of loneliness and thinking he's going to be alone for the rest of his life, questioned himself if he truly deserves such a goddess who loves him for everything that he is.

"I promise I'll always stay with you."

It was a place to start. For the both of them who finally found light in their darkness.

- A/N: I just watched a bit of Kakashi's backstory since I'm still on season 6 of Shippuden, but I can't imagine the pain he goes through at such a young age. I feel like despite Kakashi trying his best to discard his emotions, he'd still be really fragile and nothing comforts him more other than reassurance and appreciation (as much as he hates to admit it). He can be really soft when he finally lets his guard down with the person he trusts (and believe me it takes tons of years for this man to open up but once he does, he'd turn jelly around you and becomes a big puppy who just wants to cling around you) or in other words, turns into a completely different person who craves affection. Ok that's too long for an author note lol. bye guys.

oh and i found the picture on pinterest but i couldn’t find the artist so you can notify me if u know who the artist is and i’ll credit them!

[trashscenariihxh]

Pariston x fem!readerxWing part 8

I’m not dead! And neither is this!

“He knows. About us.” You clasped your hands firmly in your lap so as to quell the desire to fidget. Wing, who’d only just ushered you inside and invited you to sit down, froze midstep.

“How?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I…” how did you know, exactly? Was it the hint of additional coldness in Pariston’s voice? That slight spark of coldness in his eyes? You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure of only one thing: Pariston knew. “I just have a feeling, I guess.”

“Did you tell him?”

You looked sharply up at Wing. “No.”

“Has he said anything?”

You shook your head.

Wing frowned, reaching up to run his fingers through his dark hair. “____, I don’t see how he could possibly know.”

You trembled slightly, the thought of what Pariston would do to you if he had indeed found out filling your mind and stomach with dread. Wing noticed your distress, and sat down next to you on the couch, wrapping a reassuring hand around your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, pulling you into him, “he doesn’t know. There’s no way he could.”

“But-”

“He can’t know.” Wing kissed the top of your head, and you could feel yourself relaxing into him.

“But what if he does?” You found yourself leaning into Wing’s warmth, knowing full well that you should just get up and leave. Leave, shut the door behind you, and never look back. And yet you were shifting closer to Wing, enjoying his warmth, his smell, his general presence. You just wanted him to pull you close and tell you that everything was going to be okay.

“I promise you he doesn’t.” Wing pulled back slightly to smile at you. “____,” his smile faded.

:If… if you think this is a mistake, I won’t blame you if you walk out right now.”

You thought about it. You knew that it would be the right thing to do, and yet… You shook your head and smiled at Wing. “I’d rather be here. With you.”

Wing grinned, his body visibly relaxing at your words. “Good,” he whispered, drawing you in to kiss the top of your head again, “good.”

You sighed at his touch and closed your eyes, just happy to be there with him in his small, somewhat cramped and untidy apartment. It was a far cry from your large, expertly decorated house, but you found comfort in it. Being with Wing just felt so natural, so right… a far cry from Pariston, whose touch often made your skin crawl. You felt safe with Wing, something you could never say about being with your husband.

“Hey,” Wing murmured softly, shaking you gently, “you okay?”

You nodded, pulling back so you could smile at him.

Wing paused a moment before leaning in to kiss you, softly. His tongue slowly ran across your lower lip before dipping into your mouth. You relaxed into the kiss, allowing him to envelope you in his arms. You reached up to tangle your fingers in his thick dark hair, marveling at the softness. When you broke apart, Wing sighed, smiling warmly at you.

“I’ve wanted to do that since you left the other night.”

You felt your face heat up at his words. Slowly, quietly, you stammered out that you’d felt the same.

Wing kissed you again, this time pushing you back down onto the couch. His hands roamed over your body, over your sides, your hips, your thighs.He shifted to settle between your legs. You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer as he pressed against you. Through the fabric of his pants, you could feel his hardening cock. Despite your earlier misgivings, you knew then that you wanted it inside you.

With a soft whine, you pulled him closer, returning his kisses with ardent fervor. When you broke the kiss, you turned your head to nip at his ear.

“Wing,” you breathed, pressing a kiss to the delicate flesh beneath his ear, “want you.”

Wind responded by kissing your neck, careful not to nip and leave any marks. “God, ____,” he muttered into your neck, “can you feel what you do to me?” He ground his clothed erection against your sex. You moaned in response, feeling a growing wetness between your legs.

The two of you broke apart,so you could hurriedly divest yourself of the necessary clothing. You pulled off your tights and underwear, and Wing undid his belt and pulled down his pants, hastily removing his glasses and putting them on a side table. Moments later, he was on you again, kissing you, touching you, feeling you. He palmed your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze before reaching down to position himself between your legs. “____,” he breathed, nuzzling your neck, “can I?”

You nodded, deciding to throw all caution to the wind. Letting Wing fuck you without a condom was admittedly exciting. Plus, you were on the pill anyway. What could go wrong?

Without further prelude, Wing buried his head in the crook of your neck, and slowly pressed inside, grunting softly when he bottomed out. He stilled, pressing soft kisses to your neck, your collarbones, your lips. “God, ____,” he rasped, “you’re so beautiful like this, so full of me.” He gave an experimental thrust, letting out a long, shuddering sigh before starting to move.

You wrapped your legs around him, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts as he fucked you. Wing set a hard pace, almost frenzied; you revelled in his desperation. Wing was fucking you wildly, now, his head resting against your shoulder as he did so. Occasionally he’d kiss you, capturing your mouth with his own. Wing’s breath was ragged, his face sweaty. You carded your fingers through his hair as you felt the heat between your legs begin to grow.

Your coupling was quick, desperate and needy. You felt your body responding to Wing in ways it never had with Pariston. When Wing gave a particularly hard thrust, you groaned and dug your fingernails into his still-clothed back. The tightness between your legs was growing unbearable; you moaned Wing’s name as he continued to fuck you. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Wing reached down between you to stroke your clit.

The sensation proved to be too much; you came with a soft cry, nipping at Wing’s neck. The spasms of your cunt proved to be too much for him, and Wing followed soon after, filling you with his release.

The two of you lay on the couch, Wing’s cock still in you, as your breathing returned to normal. As his cock softened, Wing kissed you lazily as he left you naturally. “____, you felt amazing, you’re amazing.” He kissed you again before pulling back and sitting up. Rubbing the back of his neck, he smiled sheepishly at you. “I’m sorry if that was too much, ____. I guess I got a bit carried away.” He opened his arms, motioning you to snuggle against him. You slowly joined him, slightly unsure of yourself. Pariston never cuddled you after sex. It was a feeling you were unused to. Feeling Wing’s warmth instantly relaxed you, and soon you were in his arms, snuggling against his chest as he stroked your hair.

Your eyes widened when you felt his release begin to trickle down your legs. You made to stand up, to rush to the bathroom lest you make a mess, but Wing held you tightly. “Where are you going?”

“To clean up.”

Wing chuckled and held you closer. “Don’t worry about it. I can clean up later.”

Slowly you nodded, surprised at his sweetness. “Okay.”

*** 

You didn’t mean to doze off. Really, you didn’t. But you woke up a few hours later with a start. Noticing it was dark outside, you hastily reached for your phone to check the time. You sighed with relief when you saw that it was barely past eight. Still early, thank god.

Wing had evidently also dozed off. He awoke slowly when you stirred. “Mm, ____, where are you going? Are you okay?”

“It’s fine,” you replied, sighing again and snuggling back into him. “I just thought it was later than it was.”

“Do you need to leave?”

You paused. You probably should go, but the prospect of staying with Wing, even for a few short hours, was infinitely appealing. You smiled reassuringly at him. “Not just yet.”

***

As it turned out, Wing was more than happy for you to stay. He made you coffee, chatting happily with you as you drank. You’d finally cleaned up and gotten dressed, ready for your trip back to your own house.

All too soon, it was time to leave. Wing walked you to the door, helping you put on your coat before drawing you close to him. “When can I see you again?” he asked, his hand resting on your waist.

“Soon,” you reassured him, kissing him softly.

“Tomorrow?”

“Maybe. Pariston will probably be out late again. We’ll see.”

“The next day, then.”

You sighed and cupped his cheek. “I’ll try.”

Wing grinned at you before giving you another kiss. “It can’t come soon enough.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. “No,” you agreed. “It can’t.

*** 

Immediately upon returning home, you realized to your horror that Pariston’s car was in the driveway. 

Oh god, you thought to yourself. He’s home.

[razorblade180]

Shackles Finale: Free

[Part 12]

Destiny is a fickle thing. For some it’s real, and for others it’s as fake as fairy tales. No matter what however, time still goes on. Things still happen. Ruby was never one to think too hard on the topic despite all she’s been through. However, as she walked into Menagerie’s hospital soaking wet from the extreme downpour happening in the middle of the night, Ruby couldn’t help but wonder if it was destiny to test everyone’s resolve; or karma coming to collect.

Her self imposed mission had been going well. Adam cooperated, Blake planned ahead, and things progressed steadily. It should’ve stayed like that for three more months. Unfortunately things don’t always go as planned. Jacquelyn went into labor early, too early. The woman woke up today looking fit as a fiddle. Who could’ve guessed she would be fighting for her life today? Her, and her daughter?

Hospital staff were in a frenzy from the storm just like the public. It made getting to the back where everyone was without suspicion easy for Ruby. Certain doctors were notified ahead of time of the complexities of their patient and precautions had already been in place for Jacquelyn and company to have no disturbances. Though nobody factored in an unhealthy birth creating this island’s worst storms to date. Ruby made it to the sealed off waiting room. What should’ve been a haven of calm was another conflict. Blake stood arms folded and ears back in the way of guards and her conflicted father while Adam sat behind her, silent.

“You know I expected more from you, Saber. That goes double for you dad.”

The man frowned. “Blake, this wasn’t my-”

“We have held our end of the agreement.” Saber interjected, “Adam was to be free until the child was born. Not my problem that day came early.”

Blake grit her teeth. “You know damn well that’s not why I’m standing here right now!” She said through her teeth. His kid had just been born moments ago and just like that, she was rushed to intensive care. Meanwhile Jacquelyn was slipping in and out, her body failing her during the labor. “Let him see this through.”

“What good would it do him to hear terrible news? He’ll lash out for all we know. That can not happen in a hospital!”

“You just want to kick him while he’s down!”

“AND FOR GOOD REASON!”

Okay, Ruby had enough. “HEY!” She yelled, gaining everyone’s attention. She brushed her wet hair out of her face. “I set up generators across the island. No one's gonna lose power. I also told people Menagerie’s guards were making their rounds to make sure everyone was accounted for. I don’t mean to overstep being an outsider and all but…” her eyes burrowed into Saber’s “Get to work.” It wasn’t kind or even right necessarily, but Ruby didn’t care.

Feeling the pressure, Saber made the wise decision to take his people and leave. Ghira looked at Blake with guilt in his eyes for letting it get this far. “Listen I-”

“You know I understand mom not wanting anything to do with this, but I didn’t expect this from you. It’s like you’re trying to create every reason to push him back into old habits and make all this worthless. We will hold up our end of the bargain, so teach them what you tell me and have some patience.”

Ghira didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. There was caution, and then there was insensitivity. He had no words, just a nod before walking away.

Ruby grabbed his arm in passing. “She knows this wasn’t your call. Blake is stressed. Your house still has power. Ilia is with Kali trying to calm down Sienna and Sun is helping check on people. Maybe you should go home too?” Ruby smiled softly. She knew a worried father when she saw one. Ghira needed something to do.

“I appreciate the concern Mrs. Rose, but I think I’ll just stand guard outside this room.”

“Understood, and hey, things will work themselves out.” Ruby let him go and headed from one worried feline to the next. “You know he’s not to blame right? He’s just…trying to keep everyone connected.”

Blake let out a sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I know that, and I also know he’s not going to lose me. But right now I really need everyone to not jump the gun. Thanks for keeping the peace. Maybe I should’ve paid more attention to your leadership skills.”

“I just got snippy with faunus officers on their own island. Really testing my boundaries with my status as an important huntress across Remnant.” Ruby patted Blake on the back. “You should go check in on the doctors. I’ll do my job watching our person of interest.”

“Okay.” Blake looked back at Adam. He stayed quiet throughout all of this, eyes closed and arms crossed. He must’ve figured the best thing he could do right now is not look threatening. “I’ll let you know first if anything changes okay?”

He still didn’t move but that didn’t stop him from speaking. “Thank you.” He heard Blake run off in a hurry while the sound of chair legs rubbed the ground in front of him. Adam opened his one good eye and saw Ruby sitting in front of him with her scroll in hand.

“You know…I can’t remember when a day has felt this long.” Ruby sighed, “Moments like these is enough to just make you want stop time ya know?”

“I don’t need sympathy.”

“Wasn’t giving any. Just venting I guess. My husband sent me a text. I’m missing a very important arrival today; not that it’s your fault by any means. I just know it’s gonna be grounds for a conversation later that might get feisty, again.”

Adam could see how tired Ruby was. The normally energetic woman was leaning back in her seat, eyes closed.

“Maybe you shouldn’t take long missions then?”

“Pfft nah. I don’t regret helping where I can. Besides I didn’t know until after I took the mission. Things will work themselves out though. That’s how family works. Believe in each other and the impossible happens.”

“I know what you’re doing. It’s not gonna work. Just stop talking okay?”

Ruby pursed her lips. Years of leadership didn’t prepare her talks like these. She had to say something though. It was hard to explain, but Ruby could feel the importance of this moment. Good or bad news, bottling this up would make anyone go insane. Ruby reached down her shirt and lifted her necklace. It was a silver cross with red roses wrapped around it. She took it off and dangled it on her fingers, scooting closer to Adam.

“My dad and uncle gave this to me on my birthday. They said…sometimes you need a piece of faith when you don’t have any yourself. I’m not really religious but apparently my mom used to pray after she knew there was nothing left she could do herself. Hehe, it’s a Rose mentality.” Ruby put it in Adam’s hand and curled it. “Don’t tell anyone this, but it’s pretty cool that you are your own kind of rose. Makes me feel like we’re connected in a way. Keep that. I know it’ll fit you.”

Adam remained quiet. He stared down at the trinket in his hand until his vision blurred. His body trembled. Slowly he clenched the cross. “I have no right to pray for anything. If destiny or whatever you want to call it exists then it’s only fair I get punished.”

Ruby frowned, “Hey that’s-” she cut herself short, not expecting Adam to put his other hand over the cross; his forehead pressing against them as he closed his eyes.

“Punish me.” He uttered weakly. “Me, not them. Leave everyone else out of it.” The first and only prayer he’ll ever make. His life could be at destiny’s whim forever as long as the ones who fought for him didn’t get burned.

Ruby stood from her seat and knelt down, grabbing his hands and joining the prayer. All while Ghira watched silently from the entrance.

For several hours, It was out of everyone’s hands. A roll of the dice, luck of the draw, fate, gods, destiny, whatever anyone wanted to call it; that was the only thing left and no one dared to keep track of the time out of anxiety. It was a scary, humbling feeling for certain. It was also the purest reminder that life wasn’t fair. Bad things happen to good people, hard work is left with nothing, and sometimes… a sinner’s prayers get heard.

The doors flung open with Blake breathless. “Adam…” she panted, eyes bigger than the smile on her face. “She’s-” the tears shed caught her off guard. The two roses stared blankly before Adam stood. Blake moved out of the doorway and he took it as a sign. ‘Run.’ Adam ran and no one dared to stop him.

“Back room.” Blake said, walking to her father. Ruby got up as well and joined the two. Blake looked at the red faced girl. The feline giggled softly while wiping Ruby’s tears. “And here I thought I knew how big your heart was?”

Ruby laughed as she tried to stop sniffling. “It’s not what it looks like. Seeing him sit there with his demons like that, it reminded me of how my dad and uncle qrow used to look when mom was brought up. Sorry, got a little compromised.”

“Welcome to the club. Dad, sorry I-”

Ghira wrapped his arm around Blake. “Don’t apologize. I tell you to take things slow and yet I tried rushing to the end of this. I’m sorry. I can’t say what lies in store for Adam next, but I suppose…I’ll have to keep more of an open mind. He’s earned that much.”

Ruby shook her head and sighed. “If I’m being honest, personally I think everyone has been a bit silly. Including my lovable sis. You all make it sound like he’s been trouble free for six months when that isn’t the case. I can’t say if he’s been perfect or not but the fact that Remnant thinks he died at Argus has to mean something, right? I certainly can’t link him to any world threatening incidents since then. He’s been minding his business for a couple years now. Is locking him up really gonna change anything? I mean it wouldn’t matter if Cinder was in or out of jail for me. I’d still be wary and pissed. Your men’s feelings about him wouldn’t change because of a cell. But hey, that’s just me.”

Ruby put her hands behind her hand and walked off. “I’m gonna step out for a moment and make a call.” She looked out a window. To her surprise, the rain had stopped. Ruby dialed Yang’s number. “Hey sis! Beautiful day to start a family. So, what’s my precious little niece’s name?”

xxxx

Adam reached the back room and pushed the door open to find Jacquelyn in bed, startled by his entrance before giving him a grin. Her skin had a sickly yellow dinge to it and she was covered in sweat. Still she smiled, holding a small infant as doctors looked at vitals and did their work.

“Awe, have you been crying? I’m sorry. Guess we gave you a fright.”

One of the nurses looked at the maiden like she was crazy. “Ma’am you slipped into a coma. Please don’t try and move around much.”

“I was a little tired, that's all. Heh…guess we finally found something I’m not good at? That’s un- oh…” Adam put his arms around her and the baby. Odd, to think he could hold something this gently? His presence soothed her into leaning into the embrace, humming quietly to both him and the new arrival. A premature baby with red hair, and tiny horns.

The doctor, naturally sworn to confidentiality, watched from the sidelines. “I’d like to congratulate you with confidence, but these two aren’t out of the woods yet. While I expect Jacquelyn to bounce back with time, your daughter is pretty frail. We have her stable for the time being but the heart is a complex organ even when fully developed. We’re going to have to keep her for a while just to make sure she’ll grow up healthy. Rest assured, I will do everything in my power for her.”

“Thank you.” Adam looked at his daughter’s round face. She opened her eyes to reveal two pools or bright blue. “Hmmm.”

“Something wrong?” Jacquelyn asked.

“She’ll have a hard time, with these features going for her. I was hoping she’d look more like you.”

“Oh hush. She’s beautiful like this. Though maybe I am a little jealous she doesn’t have my hair. Still, real big fan of those eyes.” She kissed his cheek. “We’ll do our best and then some.”

The doctor pulled out some paperwork. “Now then, I’m going to need a name. Her record won’t be too expensive in terms of…background history, but she’ll need the basics as best as possible. Especially in her condition.”

“Wanna name her after your mother, or even your sister?”

Adam shook his head, “I think we already have enough namesakes. Let her be free from that. You decide. I was never really good at these kinds of things.”

“Oooo okay. Don’t come crying later if you think of a good one. A free spirited name for our little kid.” Jacquelyn giggled to herself. “Got it. How about we name her…”

“Hehe, That’s a perfect name.” The two roses spoke.

[razorblade180-heated]

Nice Guys Finish Last

[NSFW]

Weiss stands anxiously outside of Winter’s room, knocking on the door. It’s pretty late at night but she hopes her sister is up. There’s something she needs to get off of her chest. Several minutes pass before Winter opens the door. Her hair is a little messy and her body is covered by a silk robe.

Winter:Weiss? It’s almost midnight.

Weiss:I know, and I’m sorry if you were sleeping but I have a confession. Jaune and I are....sorta together. Sorry I hid that from you.

Winter:What!?

Weiss:Now I know what you’re thinking, but believe me when I say he’s more than he appears to be. Sure he’s a regular person, but what’s wrong with that. Simple isn’t boring. It’s refreshing when everything in my life feels so detached from the norm!

Winter:Weiss-

Weiss:I understand you probably need convincing so do what you must, but it won’t change my mind. I’ll date him even if you disapprove! That being said, please support my decision. I don’t want-

Winter:Weiss!!!

The younger sister jumps from the shout. Winter stares into her eyes with such neutrality that it’s impossible to gauge the situation she’s in. Weiss watches Winter slowly grab the door and open it wider. Weiss assumed it was an invitation in. That was until she saw a shirtless, no pants wearing Marrow a few feet behind Winter. Fortunately he was wearing boxers but that didn’t stop Weiss from turning red. His hair was weighed down from dampness and sweat glistened off his bruised, miltary trained body. Weiss refused to check out his package and slowly turned back to her blushing sister. Now that Weiss was looking closely, Winter had a few bruises too.

Winter:There’s nothing with a nice, normal guy. Congratulation.

Weiss:....

Winter:What?

Weiss:Isn’t this against some kind of code?

Winter:One, he doesn’t report to me. Two, there’s nobody in my room right now, understand? You woke your big sister up from sleeping. Also number three, no one will believe you anyways.

Marrow:I barely believe it.

Weiss:I....wow. No offense but, why him?

Winter:He makes me laugh. I bet you understand that feeling in regards to Jaune, right? *smiles*

Weiss:Yeah, I do. Well I guess I’ll let you get back to....is it racist to doggystyle?

Marrow:In this situation? No.

Weiss:Ah, think I learned too much just now. Have a nice night.

Winter:You too.

The door closed quickly and Weiss just stood there, rationalizing the events that just took place. That was interrupted by the flirtatious giggling. Not only did she not know Winter could giggle, but knowing why she was giggling made Weiss move as fast as Ruby. Better to leave before she hears something she really wants no business hearing. She left not a moment too soon.

The sounds of giggling had stopped as Winter’s lips pressed against Marrow’s. The loose fabric that draped over her body slid back down to the ground where it was before Weiss’s intrusion. The older Schnee welcomes the feeling of her secret lover’s hands squeezing her ass while her tongue hungrily explored Marrow’s mouth. His hands turned her body around and playfully pushed her back to the bed.

Winter laughed seductively at Marrow’s eagerness. “Relax, we won’t get interrupted this time. She got down on her hands and knees, dipping her upper body and wiggling her ass to him. Winter looked over her shoulder, blush deep on her face. She was glad to Marrow’s boxers were already off and the feeling of his aching cock already pressing into her pussy. The way it rubbed up and down her slit and hit against her clit was more than enough for Winter to push her hips backwards to get what she clearly wanted. “Don’t you dare tease me.” She moaned. A hand grabbed her waist and jerked her back hard, spearing herself onto Marrow’s six inched cock in one go. “Ahhh! Ffffmmmmm~”

It felt like tension left her body. Weiss might’ve joked about it but doggie was Winter’s weakness. As easy as it would be to straddle Marrow and make him obsessively moan her name as she rocked his dick and make him fall victim to worshiping her sexy body, Winter wanted to be the one screaming. Marrow’s second hand finally grabbed her waist and the young man’s hips started to crash into the cushion that was Winter’s ass. Running juices from her entrance made access to her womb extra easy, as well as coated her in thighs and a thick shaft with creamy discharge. Winter felt Marrow hunch over body while maintaining his jackhammer-like thrust; his hands moved to her sizable breasts and began kneading them like dough.

“Aaaahhh~ Yessss! Just like that!” The overwhelming pleasure made Winter drop her head down and let her body simply experience Marrow. She could feel her own pussy quiver and cling to him with every thrust that threatened to make her scream. Still, Winter had some pride. If it wasn’t for that, then she’d confess to feeling like a bitch in heat, lusting to be filled. As much as she wanted to fully express those feelings, Winter just couldn’t bring herself to act like that completely. Not like Marrow didn’t realize the sentiment with how much she was moaning. His fingers clamped down on her erect nipples and Winter felt her entire body tense. Sharp inhales were sucked through her teeth and she knew Marrow could feel just how tight she had gotten around his swelling cock.

“Oh? You like it when I touch you roughly? How naughty for a specialist.”

“Shut up!” Winter mewled. Trying to look imposing in this situation was impossible, yet she tried anyways. She could hear Marrow chuckle huskily at her. “You’re..ah! The worst!” She whined. Her body finally gave out and Winter came, hard. The stern woman bit down on her sheets and wailed as her orgasm drowned her in pressure. She could feel Marrow quickly pull out from behind her, then paint her backside with his searing hot seed. The two breathed heavily, remaining in their lustful position the entire time. Winter looked back to see Marrow catching his breath as he stared at body. “Enjoying the view?”

“It’s the best in Atlas. How could I not?” Marrow half joked. He doubt he’d see a sight better than this. “Ready for round two?”

“Only if you can handle it.”

“Winter....” Marrow slid back into herb and reached for her arms, pulling them back and leaving her nothing to gain leverage. “Let me show you what it means to really fuck like an animal. Tonight I’m in heat, and you’re my bitch.”

Winter could feel the blood rush to her face and her body respond to the crude statement by gripping down on his shaft harder. Pride crumbled away as Winter bit her lip in anticipation. “Fuck me like a bitch then.” A sudden and strong thrust of Marrow’s hips into her made Winter yelp. Again and again he pounded into her and made her ass shake from the impact. Winter could already feel her knees buckle and orgasm build up inside herself. This was gonna be a long night for her. Briefly, Winter couldn’t help but wonder, were all nice boys like this in bed? Surly her sister wouldn’t be a person to go for this type of rough intimacy.

xxxx

“Aaah! Harder baby!” Weiss moaned, letting her petite frame become over taken by Jaune’s hands as leaned back into is lap; begging for his lips to grace her neck as he continued to thrust straight up into her heated core. “Gods, you feel so good!” She brought his hand downward to her clit and he began to rub it for his princess. Weiss couldn’t stop from squirming and panting from the pleasure of being played with so hard. Her left boob was trapped by Jaune’s calloused hand and his head rose from her neck to nibble on her ear. All of this was mere icing on the cake to go with the feeling of being split apart a throbbing cock that made Weiss thankful to be her size. It felt as if she was gonna split apart with how full he made her .

Jaune listened to the moans and cries of his girlfriend, who was far more excited than usual. “What’s got you so pent tonight? He grunted as his pace picked up. A jerk move on his part. Jaune knew Weiss wouldn’t be able to answer. All she could do is lay on his body and pant like a dog as her pussy took a pounding. Her beautiful eyes were shut tight and face was beat red, still Jaune was in love with her beauty and stole her lips. Something Weiss loved. She happily returned the same frenzy of emotion as they stole lustful moans and grunts from one another. Weiss pulled Jaune’s head further down into the lip lock and her toes began to curl. Any thoughts she had left her mind in a haze of white as her body gave way to the pleasure. Jaune thrusted four more times into her before Weiss’s grip around him became too much to deny. Reaching is own orgasm by the feeling of Weiss’s soaked walls squeezing as much seed out of him and into her body.

Their bodies slowly rocked to draw out the pleasure as they kissed for several more seconds. Finally, Weiss removed her lips from Jaune’s and allowed air back into her body. A faint ache in her body set in as she felt Jaune slide out of her. “Winter...approves...” Weiss huffed. She had no strength to continue the story, choosing to lay peacefully in her boyfriend’s arms instead.

Jaune had zero complaints. He too leaned back to rest on the backboard of the bed. “That’s...good. Funny, who would’ve thought she’d be okay with a guy like me?”

Weiss said nothing, only silently snickered to herself. Tomorrow she would tell him just how okay a guy like him was. He’d be the only person to believe a story like that.

[moldisgoodforyou]

24 pls!!

“god, stop doing that.” “doing what?”

warning this is DEFINITELY nsfw. v smutty. wrap it before you tap it. (also. it is now officially my birthday. here is my gift to you.)

wordcount: 1.4k

it started when charlie left for class before jj, but woke him up just before with a kiss. the kiss was short, that wasn’t the issue - it was the dirty things she murmured in his ear as he was still waking up. she let her hand trail down her boyfriend’s bare chest and ran her thumbnail along the waistband of his boxers as she described what exactly she’d like to do to him. he already had morning wood and this certainly wasn’t helping. “charlie, please, help me out or something,” jj begged, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her back into bed. charlie stood, pushing his hands away. “I’m going to be late to class. I’ll see you later, maybank.” 

jj almost choked on his lunch when he received a series of dirty texts later in the day, having to shove his phone in his pocket to avoid any of his frat brothers seeing. charlie sent the texts from campus and frowned when she saw the read receipts but no answer ten minutes later. she loved teasing him and seeing how worked up he could get, loved playing the game. she waited another five minutes, then sent another text. 

I would do anything to have you in me right now 

jj hesitantly pulled his phone out again as he felt the buzz, signaling another text. upon reading it, he called her instantly. she picked up right away, cheery. “hi maybank, what’s up?” jj’s tone was strict. “walker. quit it.” charlie laughed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, babe.” jj groaned. “you know exactly what I’m talking about and it’s not fair. quit playing games.” charlie ignored him. “you’re still meeting me in the library to study around 4, right?” 

jj sighed. “yes, as long as you quit teasing.” 

“yeah, yeah, whatever. see you then, maybank.” she hung up the phone, a smug smile on her face. she didn’t hesitate to send a few more quick texts throughout the day. 

around 4, charlie had already been in the library for an hour, waiting for jj’s class to end. she stopped her teasing once jj stopped responding, taking the fun out of her game. she was deep into studying and trailed her finger along the pages of the book as he finally arrived, pulling out the chair across from her. “whatcha studying?” he asked, nudging her foot under the table with his. “kinesiology.” charlie replied, not taking her eye off the pages. she bit her lip in concentration and jj shifted in his seat, but took out his laptop and tried to ignore her. 

he kept looking up at her as she murmured quietly, reading the text aloud to retain it. when she ran her tongue along her teeth for the fifth time in a row, jj snapped. 

“god, stop doing that.” he whispered. 

charlie glanced up, oblivious. “doing what?” 

“your -” jj gestured at her. “- thing, with your tongue, and with your lips.” 

“well that’s not my fault,” charlie replied, rolling her eyes.

“it certainly is your fault, it’s your lips!” jj insisted. 

someone shushed them from the next table over and jj rolled his eyes. charlie laughed softly and shut her book. “I’ve been here for an hour already, let’s take a walk.” jj didn’t hesitate to put his laptop away and got up, taking her hand. they walked up to the third floor where it was the quietest and most unoccupied so they could talk freely. 

as they roamed the aisles of books, jj thought of something. “you know what they say about the stacks,” he said with a smirk. charlie rolled her eyes. “the stacks, jj, really? what a cliche.” 

“come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never thought about doing it in the stacks before.” 

“I have literally never thought about doing it in the stacks before.” charlie laughed, shaking her head. jj stepped in front of her, backing her up into one of the shelves. “but the idea is kind of hot, right?” he asked, leaning down toward her. charlie swallowed, looking up at her boyfriend. ��...maybe.” 

jj ducked his head down to whisper in her ear. “you’ve been teasing me all. fucking. day. don’t tell me that wasn’t just for kicks.” 

charlie’s breathing became shallower and she was hyper-aware of how close he was to her, millimeters away from actually touching her. “well. hypothetically. if  we were to do it, we would do it in one of the study booths. with the curtains.” 

jj groaned, curling his fingers possessively around her hip. “if this is you just teasing again...” he warned. charlie glanced around, making sure no one was around, then ducked out from under him, walking away. jj stood there, open-jawed, until charlie turned back around. “are you coming?” 

jj hurriedly followed after her, into one of the study booths and pulled the curtain shut. “we’re gonna have to make it quick,” charlie murmured before meeting his lips in a heated kiss. jj palmed her breast, rolling his thumb over her nipple and grinning when he saw it was hard through her t-shirt. he slipped his fingers down under her tennis skirt and rubbed her clothed pussy a few times, smirking. “all that teasing turned you on too, huh walker? how long have you been wet for me?” he whispered, lifting her up onto the desk. 

charlie moaned before slapping a hand over her mouth. “fuck, jj, please,” she whined and hooked her fingers in his belt loops, pulling him close. she fumbled with his jeans, hurriedly unbuttoning them. jj tried pulling her panties down with one hand - unsuccessful - then finally grabbed them with two hands, ripping them clean in half and stuffing the fabric into his pocket. charlie’s jaw dropped. “normally I would be mad, but that was so fucking hot.” she told him. 

jj smirked and pushed his pants down to his ankles. “are you ready?” he asked and charlie nodded, then paused. “wait, shit, do you have a condom?” 

jj sighed loudly, bending down to get dressed again. “no.” charlie kissed him to shut him up, their tongues fighting for dominance. he bit her bottom lip. “shh, we can’t get caught.” charlie pulled back a little, clearly fighting an internal battle. jj reached under her skirt again and inserted one finger into her entrance and she gasped, letting her head fall back. “fuck it. I need you in me,” she decided, wrapping her fingers around him to pump him a few times. jj groaned, painfully hard in her grip. “are you sure?”  

“yes, I’m sure,” she hissed, wrapping her legs around his waist. he removed his fingers and lined up against her, gliding the head of his cock along her pussy. once he entered her, she cried out and he kissed her quickly. “you have to be quiet, walker,” he insisted, before snapping his hips against hers. she tried to meet his pace but could hardly do anything but grip her legs tighter around his waist, drawing him closer. the two of them panted hard, rocking hard in a rhythm together. she reached her climax first, her moan muffled against his shoulder as she rode out her high. 

“charlie - I -” jj could barely mutter out, his pace becoming frenzied. charlie quickly pulled away, getting on her knees. “let me.” she took him into her mouth and pumped him with her fist simultaneously. he only lasted like that for a few seconds before coming into her mouth. “holy fucking shit, charlie.” he mumbled.

charlie gagged a little as she swallowed, then stood with shaky legs. the two of them just stared at each other incredulously for a few beats until they caught their breath. “that was the sexiest thing I have ever seen.” jj stated, in awe. charlie laughed softly, shaking her head. “that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. we could have been caught and in so much fucking trouble.” jj grinned as he pulled his pants up, buttoning them. “but we weren’t. doesn’t that make it so much better?” 

[withoneheadlight]

| a house (is a home) | (i). the keys | (ii). memories&herons | (iii). old dogs&inheritances | (iv). memorabilia | tinyplaylist |

~

The kitchen’s Steve’s favorite part of the house.

It has this odd shape. Trapezoid. “Fuck, Stevie, so goddamn weird”. Doesn’t make sense in a, on the other hand, perfectly rectangular house (or, well, it does but, they’ll only find out about that later). The cabinets are ceiling-high. The tiles of the wall white and cracked under the repeating pattern of light mint-green-stemmed, yellow-petaled lilies. The whole backdoor is painted on that same shade Billy calls Ripe banana dreams, both so terribly old-fashioned and fiercely cute none of them says a word about repainting it. There’s a wooden piece, built into the farthest end of the counter. It looks disgustingly juicy and mercilessly stabbed when they move in, but Billy insists on keeping it, and sanding, and treating, and varnishing it. Manages to get it back up on shape because “Better than anyone, darling you should know what a little touch of class can make”. And for more than two weeks straight the only goal of his life is to learn to cut vegetables at high speed because “I have to live up to this level of professionalism. Impress our most un-impressionable guests”

(And, to Steve’s surprise –and probably hers– when she finally deigns to pay them a visit, his mom is, in fact, pretty much impressed.)

He learns how to make good casserole. Tries his luck with Mexican and Italian. Fails miserably with Japanese. Will never-ever admit it but, he loves it when flour ends up staining every single surface, making the biggest mess around himself when he bakes. Steve knows why it is. It’s a shared feeling. Floats up till it reaches the ceiling and bounces back down to them, heavy with the warm smell of cooking pie and cinnamon. Tastes docile and tamed like “Maybe not so much vanilla next time. Whaddaya think, babe?.” Tastes savage and daring, like the overwhelming tang of freshly squeezed lemon lingering on Billy’s tongue, when he crowds Steve against the fridge and kisses him, nibbles a shuddering laugh out of him “How the fuck are you able to even think about putting your mouth near that thing, Hargrove?. That was––ugh. That was disgusting”, “Well you know me, whatever it takes to make you squirm” leaving Steve with absolutely no option but lick the sugary dough stain over his cheek to “Cover up that foul flavor” and maybe because he wants to make Billy squirm a little too. 

It’s a heart-warming, welcoming feeling. Like the vivid smells of green tomatoes and parsley and mustard sauce. Like the taste of love on Billy’s lips. The way he loses his breath when Steve kisses the sugary flavor into Billy’s mouth with his:

This place smells like home, tastes like home. Like finally, finally. Home.

It’s Billy’s favorite place, too. But Steve doesn’t think it’s just because of that. But also because maybe,

maybe.

He has also noticed that–

There’s this particular, particular moment. It happens around seven on autumns, right when the day starts to fade. It happens between six and six past twenty-eight on winters, and holds the sleepy cheeks of the newborn tulips on Steve’s garden till they fall asleep on springs, sun already sinking behind the horizon by the time both hands of the clock meet over the spiral of the eight, pointing towards infinity. And then grows bigger and bigger and bigger from there, flooding into summer: the golden sunlight seeping through the wide, double-paned window facing the backyard in an oblique angle, making the yellow flowers of the tiles look like they’re re-blooming in gold. 

It’s the moment the day turns into a fire. 

It’s their favorite moment in time. And in this particular, particular day of July, it happens at ten past nine.

Billy is making Spaghetti Carbonara. The kitchen is damp with the rich smells coming out of the boiling water. Mushrooms and oregano, black pepper and lime. A song is cooing at them from the radio, the beat of the drums a boneless memory of that one echoing around the quarry on faraway almost-night on a faraway July. Water rippling under the quiet sigh of the breeze. Trees cutting the liquid rays in asymmetric halves. 

Billy takes off the apron. Turns the stove down.

Reaches out to Steve, fingers wavering come, come, come.

To me. Come to me. “C’mon, Harrington. Do I scare you or what?“

He has this way of looking at Steve that makes the space between them narrow, narrow: the whole unknown world. And aseptic, non-lived-in flat in downtown Florida. This tiny, tiny town. A mysteriously-shaped kitchen––

“¿Can I have this dance?” 

Steve walks to him, takes his hand. 

––Their bodies, pressed flush. 

Inside his chest, Steve’s heart is running. 

(“Can I at least have this dance, before we say goodbye?”

Mazzy Star was playing. The corner of Billy’s eye felt wet where his skin brushed against the corner of Steve’s mouth. They danced till the daylight faded, till there were teardrops falling from the night sky.

“Billy, I don’t have to––” 

“Don’t, pretty boy. Don’t say it. I’ll make you stay if you do. And I can’t do that”)

They made lovelovelove on the back of Billy’s car.)

In this light, they fell in love, they fell apart. Ran away. Ran back. 

Steve nudges at Billy’s chest, makes him move backward till he’s far enough to tug, draw him in between their tangled arms, hands intertwined. Steve curls himself around Billy’s back, noses at the warmth trapped between his curls. He smells like BillyandSteve, like this home, like past, like future. Like us.

Steve whispers in his ear. Three words. Billy’s neck curves towards him. An instinct. Tickled by their warmth. Steve kisses the curve of his ear. Tugs the collar of his shirt aside, bites where shoulder meets neck and up, up.

“Easy, Prom King” Billy teases, grins at him tender and wild. Knows when to use the one that gets Steve every time “Or you’re gonna make me think we’ll become picture-perfect from this magical moment onwards. A bunch of kids. White fences. You know, the whole shebang” 

(Billy crashed the Camaro into a tree in the winter of two thousand and fourteen. Had left the house in a frenzy. Something happened Max wouldn’t talk about. But she was scared, so she had called,

“Find him. Please.. Make sure he’s alright”

When Steve found him, Billy was in the middle of the Brookville road, feet stumbling on the twin yellow lines, following them nowhere. So weary, so impossibly small like this: head hanging, arms wrapped around himself. A crooked shape, carrying the weight of the shadows the tall pine trees cast on his back.  

So unlike him. 

Steve stopped the car at his side, engine oozing steam, shaking in the icy mid-May air “Billy” he said. Low. Careful. Careful. Billy’s eyes looked wet in the moon-silver night, pupils blown, deceivingly calm, “What are you doing? This is dangerous” And Billy’s spine had bent even lower, forearms finding rest on the window frame. Leveling with Steve. Looking wasted, looking tired, but still, he flashed a grin at him, teeth-shark white, never going down if he wasn’t going down swinging. And Steve–– hadn’t known at the moment, but the blood staining his cheek, the screaming-purple mark around his eye.

Those weren’t from the crash.

 “I was sleepwalking, Harrington” he said, voice dry, laugh harsh. Shrugged “Waiting for a lucky strike”)

“What does it make you think that’s not what I’m aiming for?”

(When he took Billy to his house Max was already there. Had sneaked out. “Neil will kill you if he finds out,” Billy said and she nodded, white knuckles peaking red with how hard she was gripping the handler of her bike, and Steve hadn’t seen her cry before, not ever, but her eyes were swollen and wet and,

“Are you––”

“I’m alright, kiddo. You know me. I’m always alright”

And the lie sat heavy, between them. Two lies, covering the truth. Poorly stitched. But Max had called Steve for help, so that’s what he did. Help. Sent her back home. Took care of Billy’s face. Billy’s hands. Nodded at those same lies, let them do their work while taking care of wounds he didn’t know, back then, couldn't have been for a crash. Made him spend the night. 

Billy still hadn't woken up when Steve left the next day, leaving food and a note on the nightstand ‘I’ll be back soon. Stay’. 

Retraced Billy’s steps down the yellow lines splitting the forest in half. To find it.

The Camaro wasn’t done yet. Howled like a wounded beast under Steve’s touch, but stayed together all the way to Donny’s garage. And Steve paid for the repairs. Covered it all up. Max has said “His dad can’t know, Steve. Can’t know. If he finds out he will--” and steve was starting to put two and two together. To realize some billy was, maybe, running away from something. Someone. When he crashed his car.

Woke Billy up when the hands of the clock met over the spiraling infinity of the eight. Seventeen hours straight of sleep and still looking like he could use a lifetime. Told him “The car will be ready in two or three days. ‘Til then, you stay'' covered his mouth with his hand. Didn't let him complain “And If whatever happened last night happens again, you take it and you run. Back here. And you stay again, ok?”

Two weeks later, Billy showed up at his door. Lit him a cigarette. Offered to teach him how to fight.

“I cannot give you back your money, but I know you don’t need that”

Made him laugh.

They spent almost the whole summer together, after that. Some days. Most nights.

Wasting time. Fighting. Joking. Driving.

Falling.

No ‘what ifs��. No promises. Just,

“Leave the light on if you can’t sleep, pretty boy. If I manage to sneak out of the Old fuck, I’ll pick you up. Promise I won’t stop kissing you until dawn. Gotta make up for what you paid for that ca, uh?”

Because Steve was gonna leave. Wasn’t gonna throw a single glance behind his back.

That was the plan.

And he did. He did. But––)

He spins Billy out. Tugs him back. When their chests bump, his laugh bursts, bubbles up. Weightless. Happy. Because all that matters to him, to them, it’s between these four irregular walls now.

And God this, this, is Steve’s favorite part. 

(–ended up coming back running, hoping the love would re-stitch itself as he followed the road’s yellow lines. 

Hoping Billy was the one letting his light on this time.)

Because the sun’s gonna keep on shining. They can keep on dancing in here, in their weird trapezoidal kitchen (in their house, in their home), for as long as they want. Hearts touching. Lips brushing. Bodies swaying, spinning, cutting through the golden light. 

~

[qqueenofhades]

Steggy + Old Guard AU? Also hi! So happy you're back! Hope you're good!

The sun won’t come up over the snowy mountains for almost another hour, and the rooftop is drenched in chilly violet shadows, the narrow cobbled street below still almost entirely black. Streetlamps burn in amber orbs that cast eerie halos, and Steve’s breath gusts in clouds of silver whenever he exhales. He’s been sitting up here for hours, keeping a sharp eye on the plaza below, and even the twin blessings of super-soldier serum and functional immortality don’t make it any less damn cold. He might break off little bits when he stands up.

Steve blows on his hands and shifts his position. This isn’t any worse than some of his more rugged escapades with the Howling Commandos, and at least a hot drink isn’t too far away. They’ve been in Sokovia for almost three weeks, tracking the elusive Baron Strucker and his rumored Hydra base, and the inland Balkans in January are not exactly a summer vacation. Indeed, far from it. Sokovia is a tiny ex-Soviet breakaway republic that sits in the shadow of the forbidding Rila Mountains, roughly equidistant from Bulgaria, Serbia, and Macedonia. Nobody informed Steve beforehand that the lowest temperature recorded here at this time of year was twenty-three below zero Fahrenheit.

He’s properly shivering by the time there’s a sound behind him, he turns, and sees Peggy, clad in fatigues, parka, beret, and boots, an AK-47 slung over her shoulder. She crosses the rooftop and sits down next to him, and Steve immediately scoots in, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He presses his cold face to the back of her warm neck, and Peggy bites a yelp. “So that’s why you’re so pleased to see me,” she whispers, pulling the rifle off her back and holding it ready in her lap. Even a large and (self-servingly, but still) amorous lover cannot distract Margaret Carter from the mission. “Arse.”

Steve can’t deny it, so he shrugs. Then again, it’s been like this for almost seventy-five years, since his first death in 1945, when he crashed the plane into the ice and for some reason, entirely aside from the effects of Erskine’s serum, he didn’t die. Or rather he did, but then he woke up, and it’s happened several times since. Then there was Peggy’s first death-not-a-death in 1947, when the Zero Matter should have killed her – did kill her, actually, and then –

Just as Steve is about to enquire whether there are any other methods of keeping warm while they wait, there’s a sound on the street below. Sokovia’s old town is a picture-perfect Eastern European chocolate box, with red steeples and gingerbread houses, but it’s broken by shouting, dark sprinting figures, and a ruckus that shatters the predawn stillness. Steve leaps to his feet, ready to plunge off the roof and join the fray, but even with his enhanced reflexes, Peggy manages to be faster. She goes to one knee, slams the rifle against her shoulder, closes one eyes, sights down the barrel, and fires.

One of the dark figures turns a boneless somersault and hits the deck, as Peggy jacks out the spent cartridge and prepares to fire again. By that time Steve is already leaping, cold air whistling past his ears as he plunges past an elegant iron-work balcony and lands on the icy stones. A few frenzied minutes later, it’s all over, and as they both breathe hard and turn to each other, Steve and Bucky quickly assess that the other is still in one piece. Then another shadow swoops out of the chilly sky, lands, folds in his metal wings, and says, sounding a little miffed, “You guys know I had that covered, right?”

“Morning to you too.” Steve raises an eyebrow at Sam Wilson. He’s the youngest immortal of the team; he joined them in 1995, which means that Steve has now had to endure a full twenty-three years of his bickering foreplay with Bucky and arguments about whether to move the goddamn seat up. But at last they seem to be getting somewhere, because if they don’t sneak off and hook up in the dingy hotel bathroom after this, Steve will eat his entire Captain America uniform. Hilariously, Sam and Bucky steadfastly believe a) that they are being discreet and still totally acting like they hate each other, and b) that Steve and Peggy have no idea what is going on between them. Steve loves them both dearly, but no one ever said they were geniuses.

“You know,” Bucky shoots back at Sam. “If Zemo’s still looking for us, maybe you shouldn’t fly around in the open like a – ”

Sam rolls his eyes. “It’s called tactics. If we can draw him out, then – ”

Steve waits patiently for them to proceed through this stage. They’ve been after Helmut Zemo, the dangerous Sokovian leader of the Echo Scorpion paramilitary squad, who might have intel that can lead them to Strucker, and by the sounds of things, they argued the whole way. Then Peggy joins the party, not-so-clandestinely rolling her eyes. Living with three large immortal men who like to blow things up and repress their feelings like champions can be a call for a lot of that. “Good morning, gentlemen,” she barks, making Steve, Bucky, and Sam snap reflexively to attention. “Are we ready to go?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky says meekly. “Yes, we’re ready.”

With that, the team hurries up the street, staying low and keeping to the shadows. As they climb, Steve whispers pointedly to Bucky, “So how are things between you and Sam?”

“Fine.” Bucky determinedly keeps his eyes forward. It’s still sometimes miraculous that they have him back – after his first death in 1944 and the years he spent as the terrifying Winter Soldier, everything that Steve and Peggy went through to rescue and deprogram him, the fact that Steve can do anything so simple as tease him about a crush. “Why?”

“Mm. No reason.”

Steve must say this a little too angelically, because Bucky gives him some epic side-eye. “You’re a jerk,” he says, offering Steve a hand up the steep embankment. “Know that?”

“Punk.” Steve grips hold and lets Bucky lift him. He’s trying to say that it’s fine, that Bucky and Sam don’t have to hide, that he’s nothing but happy for them, and he hopes they feel safe enough to be together, whatever and however that may be. The four of them love each other in a way that literally transcends time and death, that will exist far beyond whatever they leave behind, whenever they finally do so. Their little immortal family out here in the world, doing their best to make it a better place, one day, one battle at a time. Always.

They reach the top of the street and look for a new route back to their safe house, where they can change clothes and get some strong coffee and continue the search for Strucker and Hydra. As Bucky marches ahead, clearly to save himself from any more probing questions about his relationship status, Peggy comes up next to Steve and slips her arm through his, with a look suggesting that she too has no objections to burning off post-battle adrenaline in a more intimate way. “They still think we’ve got no clue,” she says knowingly. “Don’t they?”

“Yeah.” Steve smiles at her, and she smiles back. “Let’s get going.”

[peanutbutterjelly-pie]

Frenzy

Summary: After Sam gets involved in a car accident Dean finds himself in an utter frenzy. Thankfully Cas shows up just at the right time.

Word Count: 1830

Tags: Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Written for the @writersofdestiel​‘s “The Day They First Met” Prompt Week

It's been five days.

Five days since Dean got the call from the hospital informing him about the car crash his little brother got involved into because some asshole ignored a red light. Five days since he dropped everything and rushed to Sam's side in a hurry, almost ending in an accident on his way there himself 'cause panic and fear nearly blinded him for anything else.

Five days since he got told by doctors that Sam was “in a serious but stable condition”. Five days since he didn't allow himself even a minute of rest.

They left Sam in a coma for the first three days due to his head injuries. Dean sat with him the entire time and actually snarled at people when they tried to bring up things like visitation hours or self care or whatever. He probably would've even forgotten to eat something altogether if the nurses wouldn't have pushed some food and water into his hands from time to time. He just had no time to think about anything else but his baby brother looking so small and vulnerable in that sterile hospital bed.

By the third day they woke him up and even though Sam remained quite loopy for a while he recovered remarkably quickly. At least fast enough to start scolding Dean for not wasting one single thought on himself.

On the fifth day they finally managed to kick him out of the hospital. Dean was, of course, rather reluctant at first, but when the doctors, very rightfully, mentioned that Sam could be out quite soon and would need someone to look out for him in the right environment because someone with a concussion and two broken legs, which would require him to use a wheelchair at least for a little while, needed extra care Dean eventually found himself driving back to his apartment to prepare for that event.

His place might not be all that much, but his complex's got a rather spacious elevator – contrary to Sam's nerdy loft downtown – and his apartment allows enough room at least in the most important spots for Sam to maneuver. Bathroom, guest room, living room. Only the kitchen might be a problem, but since Sam is prone to set an oven on fire just by looking at it Dean isn't really keen on letting him inside that room anyway, no matter the consequences.

So it comes that he's currently changing the sheets in his spare room when the doorbell rings.

Dean is inclined to ignore it at first, so not in the mood to deal with anyone at this point, but the person on the other side of the door is rather persistent and eventually even switches to an impatient knocking, making it absolutely impossible to blend out.

Dean growls and swiftly opens the door, more than determined to let out all the frustration and anger from the last few days on the person in the hallway because he's just classy like that.

But the words die in his throat as he sees himself face to face with Cas.

“Cas?” he croaks, so overwhelmed by the expected sight of his best friend he doesn't even know how to cope.

“You tried to ignore me, didn't you?” Cas narrows his eyes before pushing himself inside, suitcase right behind him. “You're getting way too predictable.”

Dean simply stares after him in a daze, wondering if he's dreaming or not.

“Aren't you supposed to be in Alaska?” he blurts out in the end.

Cas casually parks his suitcase in the hall before walking to the living room. “I was, yes. And now I'm here.”

For a moment Dean gapes at the luggage, frozen on the spot, and eventually follows his friend. “Did you just come right from the airport or do you intend to move in here?”

Cas' lips curl upwards. “Both.”

Dean blinks in confusion. “What?”

Cas sits down on the couch and pats the spot next to him in invitation. Dean considers refusing at first, to keep some distance between them, but in the end he's utterly helpless against the pull drawing him near this man who became everything to him somewhere along the way.

Not that he ever dared to voice that out loud, though.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to come back home,” Cas says as Dean drops onto the sofa cushions beside him. “I actually wanted to set out the second I heard about Sam, but the whole thing turned way more complicated than I anticipated.”

Dean clears his throat, chiding himself not to say anything stupid. “But … what about your book tour?”

Cas had been touring the US and the better part of Canada for several weeks now. And even though Dean had missed him terribly he's been so happy and proud of Cas' accomplishments. Cas had been rather successful with his writing for quite a while now, but his latest publication went through the roof faster than anyone could've imagined and he became high demand more or less over night. The book tour only one of many things on his tight schedule.

“You weren't supposed to be back for another four weeks,” Dean points out because yes, he kept a close eye on these things. “I don't want you to miss out –”

“Do you really think a book tour would be more important to me than Sam and you?” Cas asks incredulously.

Dean presses his lips into a thin line. “No, of course not,” he hurries to clarify. “But as I told you, Sam's gonna be alright –”

“I can easily reschedule the rest of the tour,” Cas cuts in with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Didn't you hear? I'm a world famous writer now, I can do whatever I want.”

A laugh bursts out of Dean's chest.

The first one in five days.

Damn, how he missed having Cas around.

“So … you wanna move in?” he wonders, nodding at the suitcase in the hallway with a question mark on his face.

“Naturally,” Cas agrees. As if that's the most normal thing in the world. “Sam told me you want him to stay with you until he recovers. And considering your apartment would be very accommodating for a wheelchair that's quite the wise choice, I have to say.”

“So you –”

“I want to stay and help out as well,” Cas says with a shrug. “Don't worry, I'll just take the couch.”

Dean feels something warm blossoming inside his chest and for a moment he's barely able to breathe. Because Cas is wonderful and selfless and if Dean wouldn't be such a chickenshit he would've confessed his freaking love a long time ago.

“Cas, man, I really appreciate it,” Dean answers, his voice a bit shaky. “But – like I said, Sam is getting better – I'll be able to manage it myself –”

“I want to be here for Sam,” Cas insists. “But I also want to be here for you!”

Dean raises his brows.

“Because I know you,” Cas goes on before Dean is even able to come up with a follow-up question. “I mean, just look at you. You seem like you hadn't had a minute of rest since all of this happened.”

Dean grimaces. Of course he's totally right about that, but Dean seriously doesn't want to confirm that. Not with Cas assessing him like that.

So he mumbles, in good old Winchester fashion, “I'm fine …”

Cas instantly rolls his eyes at him. “You're not fine,” he claims. “I talked with Sam, you know? You barely ate or slept, you didn't even think about telling your employees what was happening. You just rushed out of the garage and never returned.”

Dean grimaces.

Right.

He knew he forgot something.

“Shit,” he whispers, rubbing his temples and cursing his past self.

“Well, at least you remembered to call me,” Cas states. “And when he didn't hear from you Benny reached out to me to learn what's going on.” As Dean immediately opens his mouth to dig further about that, Cas adds right away, “Don't worry, I explained everything. He's managing the garage in your absence.”

Dean can't help feeling incredibly guilty all of a sudden. He noticed several messages and missed calls on his phone, some of them from Benny, but he ignored all of them because he didn't have the strength to deal with any of that. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and urges himself to call Benny pretty soon.

“I didn't mean for you to feel bad about this,” Cas apologizes immediately as he notices Dean's expression. “I just wanted to point out that you're a selfless person. And an idiot.”

Dean scowls at that. “Hey!”

“You always go out of your way to take care of anyone else,” Cas continues, a gentle smile on his lips. “You're a natural nurturer, Dean, and that's one of the things I love about you.”

Dean chokes on air at the nonchalant use of such a powerful word and can't help a fierce blush.

“But you're horrible in regards to yourself,” Cas accuses. “Be it either to take a step back to get a little rest or see yourself a patient in the first place. Remember the last time you had the flu? I basically had to chain you to the bed.”

Dean's flush only grows as he recalls Cas actually ending up sitting on top of him to keep him warm and cozy underneath the covers. That memory has a very special place in Dean's mind.

“So I'm here to help you,” Cas summarizes. “To help you not to work yourself to the ground.”

There is another protest forming on Dean's tongue, eager to get out there, but it gets stuck in his throat as Cas' hand suddenly cups his cheek. For a minute or two everything else ceases to exist apart from that soft touch and Dean almost whimpers, it feels so good.

And he doesn't even know how it happens, but just a moment later he finds his head nestled in Cas' lap.

Dean's heart runs wildly, making him go dizzy in the process. But at the same time he feels weirdly relaxed, Cas' familiar smell letting his muscles loosen up all on their own. Like a burden has been lifted from his shoulders.

And when eventually fingers card through his hair, Dean sighs in contentment and knows for sure that nothing could ever feel any better than this.

“Just rest,” Cas whispers. “Let go for a while and recharge your batteries.”

Dean looks up, right into Cas' eyes. They're tender and filled with emotions and Dean realizes he's the luckiest guy on the planet. And if he'd have a bit more energy he'd heave himself upwards and kiss those inviting lips.

As it is right now, though, Dean merely smiles lazily and whispers, “I'm glad you're here,” before drifting off to sleep.

And just before unconsciousness takes over he believes he hears a heartfelt, “I'm not going anywhere.”

[animerunner]

Luz’s Not So Great Luck: I am Not the Monster in Your Story

Fandom: The Owl House

Relationship: Eda Clawthorne & Luz Noceda

Characters: Eda Clawthorne, Luc Noceda, 

Warnings: Implied Verbal and Physical child abuse, heavily implied past medical experimentation

 Summary: One of the first things Eda noticed about Luz was just how many scars she had. The pattern of stitches were hard to miss.

Something doesn't feel right about it but at this point Eda doesn't know enough to articulate what. 

Maybe it was just the number of it. Or maybe it was the uneasy familiarity she felt when catching a glimpse of a scar that nearly mirrored her own.

Which considering what that scar was from...it was concerning to say the least.

Notes: Not much else to say here today. Most questions were addressed in the last chapter posting here.

Ao3 Link Here

If you want to read it on Tumblr fic is under the read more:

One of the first things Eda notices about Luz after the fact she’s human is the scars.

It’s hard to miss. From the first time Eda took off Luz’s shirt to try and get her temperature down. The patchwork of scars scattered over the girl’s body stare back at her.

It unnerves her for some reason. Though she can’t entirely put her finger on why.

Maybe it’s some of the locations?

After all one of the scars would be right above where a bile sac would normally be in a witch. She would know since she has a similar scar on her own chest.

However in a human, Eda’s not entirely sure why there would be a scar there.

Humans didn’t have bile sacs right?

Something to worry about another time. She had bigger concerns on her plate.

                                                    --------------------

The second time Eda thinks about the scars is after Luz first casts magic around her by accident.

Once she’s got Luz calmed down and asleep her mind flashes back to that one scar. Suddenly everything she had thought she had understood about humans is thrown into question.

The magic and the scar makes her wonder, maybe humans do have bile sacs?

But if they did then why had Luz needed surgery there. Most witches and humans she supposed didn’t need surgery for it. So what gave?

Why did Luz have an almost identical scar to her own?

Why did it feel like there was something sinister afoot?

Maybe the healer she’s going to call can answer her questions.                                                    --------------------

The third time Eda is reminded of the strange stitched scars that are over Luz comes when the girl has her first nightmare since arriving on the Isles.

The healer wasn’t able to tell her much on the mystery that is Luz. She had been hapless as Eda was on why Luz had so many scars.

All Eda knows is that there must be some time to the fact Luz can do magic. Though she doesn’t understand it yet.

King’s the one who wakes her up in the middle of the night.

“Luz is having a nightmare I think?”

“You think?” Eda stares at King for a moment. Hoping he just didn’t wake her up at 2 am on a whim.

“She’s not saying anything. Just a lot of miming. But she is sweating a lot and-”

“-she could make herself sick at this rate. Got it.” Eda concludes summoning Owlbert to her side.

The kid had just started getting better. The last thing they needed was for Luz to work herself into such a frenzy that she makes herself sick all over again.

Luz is still in the throws of a nightmare when they reach her room. King’s description had been accurate. The kid was tossing and turning in her sleep but Eda couldn’t hear a sound from her.

Eda frowns before she realizes why. Silencing spell. Well that’s easy enough to fix.  Thankfully she hadn’t used up all her entire yesterday.

What she doesn’t expect is the near scream from Luz when the spell is cancelled. Jumping back slightly in surprise for a moment. She catches a few phrases that make her stomach sink further. Before she moves closer and decides a simple spell to wake up Luz is in order.

It’s probably maybe not the best course of action Eda realizes as she draws the spell circle. But Eda’s more worried what might happen if the nightmare is allowed to continue.

The kid’s fever just finally broke three days ago. She really doesn’t know if the kid can afford to be sick again so soon after.

Luz cuts herself off rather quickly as she rejoins the land of the living. Stares up at Eda who had been holding her, not entirely sure what would happen when she came to, for a moment confused. “Eda?”

“The one and only.”

Luz finally wakes up enough to realize what happened and immediately starts panicking. “Oh my god I am so sorry-”

Eda cuts in as the kids' words get more frantic. “Kid breathe. I’m not mad.” A bit concerned about what Luz might be having a nightmare about to begin with that would leave her in such a state. But not mad.

“But I woke you up.”

“King woke me up actually. He noticed you having a nightmare.” Eda said with a shake of the head. “And even if he hadn’t you don’t need to hide them from me.”

Titan knew she was familiar with having her own fair share of nightmares.

“But people don’t like it when I scream in my dreams and wake them up.” Luz says after a moment. She was supposed to be quiet. If she had to have magic then this was the one good thing she could do.

Or that’s what people liked to say to her a lot anyway.

What the actual hell? Eda wondered for a moment. Who were these people that apparently needed a head smacking? You couldn’t control nightmares.

Luz continued seemingly unaware of the growing horror in Eda. “They don’t like being reminded that things happened to me.”

Eda stares for a moment, mouth slightly agape. She is left again wondering what Luz’s story is. The kid had been dodging questions about it since she had finally become well enough to hold a resemblance of a conversation.

For now though she pushes it aside. Luz didn’t need questions. As much as Eda wanted answers that could wait.

“Well it doesn’t bother me. I know all about horrible nightmares.” Eda admits with a shrug. Titan knows how many she had had herself. “You can scream if you need too and if we need to find another outlet for the nightmares. We can look into it.”

“Still I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Luz shut her mouth with a click. Eda realizes she made a mistake a second later. “Kid I just-” Eda breaks off not sure what to say. “I’m not mad. You don’t need to apologize. I don’t know what they’re about but you’re allowed to have nightmares.”

“No I’m not.”

Some part of Eda is growing exasperated. “Yes you are. No matter what other people say you can’t control your dreams. And anyone who thinks otherwise is foolish.”

“Then why does everyone get mad at me when I have them? It’s not like I chose to-” Luz cuts herself off before she finishes the sentence.

Eda raises an eyebrow. “Choose what?”

She’s guessing whatever the end of the sentence is deals with Luz’s nightmare. But the girl just looks away. Refusing to answer her question.

“It just hurts less.” Luz finally just says.

What the actual hell. Willingly muting yourself hurt less? Less than what exactly?

“Well around here you're allowed to let them loose. I know what nightmares are like. I know what trying to bury them is like. Just let them loose okay kiddo?”

Luz looks like she wants to question it but decides finally against it.

Eda knows she’s probably wondering what will happen when she goes back to the human realm. Not that will be an issue for a while. She wasn’t letting Luz out of her sight until she knew exactly how the girl was doing magic. Maybe there was a bit of projection going on. But Eda felt that Luz, whether she would say it or not, needed some guidance.

Guidance that she definitely wouldn’t get back with the humans.

Also there were concerns Eda had just from the fact Luz could do magic at all. And letting the teen back into the human realm without knowing what the story was didn’t sit well with her.

Especially with where some of Luz’s old scars were.                                                    --------------------

Eda finally finds out about the story of the scars by accident.

Any plans of Luz returning to the human realm had long been scrapped by this point. Eda’s not entirely sure what happened that caused her to find Owlbert and the door. But whatever it was she doesn’t feel comfortable letting her out of her sight.

Not when Luz has magic that she can’t seem to always control at least.

Luz still hasn’t talked about how she has magic. Eda does know that humans normally wouldn’t be able to cast. And Luz really doesn’t cast that often. Most often it’s an accident.

“Magic just gives me grief sometimes.”

“So you hate it?” Eda asks, quaking an eyebrow. She certainly wouldn’t have pinned that based on the fact Luz seemed comfortable staying on the Isles.

“‘Hate it’ are probably the wrong words. Magic is pretty. I love it when you do it.” Luz slowly admits. “I just, I’ve always been able to do this and no one can tell me why.”

“No one?”

Luz shakes her head. “I accidentally cast my first light spell when I was seven. It’s just been a long downhill mess since.” Her voice cracks. “Everyone looks at me like I’m a freak. And I know it has something to deal with the fact I don’t remember anything before I was six. But I can’t figure out what.”

Woah wait what?

Eda stares at Luz for a moment not sure if she heard right. “You don’t remember anything from when you were five?”

Luz shakes her head. “I know something happened. But everything’s sealed. No one can tell me. No one’s willing to tell me.”

Eda stares at Luz for a moment. A nastier theory starting to form in the back of her mind. She really doesn’t like the possible implications that are lining up here. “Alright, why don’t you tell me what you do know and let's see if we can’t maybe figure something out to help.”

The kid probably knew more than she realized. However, it was obvious that no one had tried to help her before now.                                                    --------------------

Eda is right. Luz does remember a bit more then she realizes about her younger  childhood years.

It would be more accurate to say Luz doesn’t remember enough to make things make sense. Then it does to say Luz doesn’t remember anything at all of those years.

Though Eda gets the impression she would rather just not remember at all.

Luz does know snippets. Mainly thanks to her nightmares. Men in lab coats. Needles and words she never understood.

There’s more there. Luz occasionally cuts herself off from saying something. However, Eda doesn’t push for more. Obviously whatever Luz can remember is hard on her.

Eda only ever asks one question. “Can you tell me how you got some of your scars?”

Luz hesitates for a moment. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to kid. I was just wondering."

“The thing is like everything else I don’t really remember how I got them.” Luz finally admits after a second. “I know they’re from back then. But other than that…”

“Nothing else?”

Luz nods.  

Maybe that’s a blessing Eda reasons. If these ‘people’ (if you could even call them that) were willing to do all sorts of experiments on young children. Then however Luz got her pattern of stitched scars was not a pleasant one.

“Why did you want to know anyway?”

“Curiosity mainly.” Eda says with a shrug. “I have a similar scar to one of yours on your chest.”

Luz’s scar was smaller all things considered. Which made sense considering this happened when she was a small child. But the location was not that far from her own scar.

She thought Luz would just accept the answer. Instead Luz seems to grow more curious. “Why do you have a scar there?”

There’s a beat for a moment and Luz realizes she may have asked too personal of a question. “Sorry-”

Eda holds a hand up effectively cutting her off. “It’s fine. I should have expected that question, all things considered.”

Of course Luz would wonder why she has an identical scar.

Eda sighs debating for a moment. On one hand telling Luz makes sense. On the other she’s worried what telling the kid about the nastier side of magic is like might do to a witch who is just starting to accept her magic.

Though really she supposes it's only a matter of time before Luz finds out the truth anyway.

“When I was younger, someone cursed me. The why and who to it really doesn’t matter now. Point is it was using my magic and my bile sac against me. So I was given two options. One was to hope to find an elixir and hope in the meantime it didn’t cause too much damage. Or two, since the curse was mainly centered around my bile sac still. Have it removed and have an artificial one put in place thus eliminating the curse entirely.”

“You went with option two.” Luz realizes eyes widening putting the puzzle pieces together.

“Yep.” Eda confirms with a nod. “Bitch of a surgery and I still have to take medicine just like you do. But it's better than the alternative.”

It was better than possibly dying.

“Anyways my scar from back then is pretty dang close to yours.” Eda finishes knowing the question that’s on the tip of Luz’s tongue.

“Oh.” Luz says quietly. “But I don’t have a bile sac.”

Yeah that much was obvious. They would have found it within Luz’s first week. Hard to miss on a medical scan.

“True but I’m guessing in whatever they did to give you magic. Some haphazard attempt at giving you a bile sac like a witch would have happened at some point.”

Oh.

“They were trying to make humans into witches.” Luz realizes what Eda has already figured out.

“Seems like it.”

“But why?”

“That’s the million snail question.”

What did humans want with magic?

Better yet how had they even found out they existed?

If they knew about bile sacs. That suggests that they knew how witch anatomy worked. Or at least enough to know that they needed them to do magic. Which raised a whole other set of questions.

Eda needed to talk to Lilith. Because she really didn’t like where the implications of this might be pointing towards.

“Would finding out why you can do magic help with your unease?” Eda says trying to push the disturbing thoughts out of her mind. And circling back to why they had started talking about this to being with.

Luz frowns for a moment. “Maybe. It could just make things worse.”

Eda hums at that thought. She hadn’t really considered that. “True. But it could also help with your health issues. If we know what was actually done to you.”

“You really want to look into it don’t you?”

“Only if you're comfortable with me doing it.”

It’s a sensitive topic Eda can tell that much.

Luz still hesitates. “I just don’t want you to think of me as differently afterward.” She finally had somewhere it didn’t feel like she was a monster. Somewhere that felt like home. What if-

Luz is surprised when Eda pulls her into a tight hug. Squeezing her tight for a moment. Her tone’s surprisingly soft and gentle when she speaks. “You're not a monster kid. And whatever happened to you, me knowing isn’t going to change my view on that. I just want to help, please just let me help.”

Luz's voice chokes for a second, she feels the start of tears, as she tries to talk again only getting a couple of words out. “But I-”

“Hey no buts.” Eda says. “The only monsters are those freaks that did the experiments okay?”

The fact Luz doesn’t say okay back immediately is telling. However Eda supposes it will take time. She only knows pieces of the story but obviously doing magic had a negative impact.

Convincing Luz to embrace her magic and that she wasn’t the monster in the closet in her own story is going to take time. But Eda is sure that with enough time she can do it.

Something in Luz breaks at that and the tears start cascading fully then.

“Kid?” Eda asks now, more worried than before.

Between a few hiccups and the tears Luz manages to get out. “No one’s really ever said that before.”

Part of Eda feels like her heart’s breaking all over again for Luz. Though this time it's out of a sense of familiarity as much as having known Luz went through that. No kid should ever have to think that. She knows that pain all too well herself. And the grief it causes. She doesn’t hesitate a moment to pull her kid back into a tight hug.

For a few minutes neither of them said anything. Eda doesn’t let Luz go when she speaks again there is a sadness to it with an undertone of fury.

“I’m so sorry kiddo that you went through that. But I promise you you’re not the monster in this story. And you may not realize that now, or tomorrow, but someday you will understand that you're not the monster for something you can’t control and never asked for.”

[thewildomega]

Star in the Sand Ch.12

A/N: Found this cool fanart on Pinterest. Still trying to find artist info. 

When he woke early the next morning he opened his eyes to see his little star still sleeping soundly beside him. There was little to no light but he could see her eyes still closed and the small flutter of her lashes as she dreamed. Her lips were parted slightly as her cheek was still laid on his arm. Glancing down he lifted the duvet a small amount and rose a brow when he took notice of her arms wrapped tightly around his left arm. Had he in fact had his hand still it would be between her legs. Looking back up to her face he moved his hand to brush back the strands of hair threatening to fall over her nose. A small knock on his door broke the quiet moment and when he saw her brow twitch he growled and used his powers to shoot sand under the door and shove whoever it was away. He stayed there a moment longer before he slowly eased his arm free, placing his pillow in his place to hopefully keep her asleep a little longer. She needed her rest to finish healing and he knew how difficult it was to get her to do so. Dressing and putting on his hook he glanced back to the bed to confirm she was sleeping before he left to see who had decided to bother him.

...............................

Groaning you nuzzled your face into the softness and stretched before freezing. Something wasn't right. It was warm, your room was never this warm. It was soft, your bed wasn't soft. Sniffing the bedding you almost sighed as Crocodile's strong, manly musk filled your nose. From the first time you had woken to find his fur coat draped over you you had been head over heels for his scent. He had a unique scent, his expensive cologne with hints of sandalwood and cedar along with the smell of his cigars and his own natural musk. With all of that you snapped your eyes open...you were not in your room, you were in his, in his bed. Sitting up quickly you felt your cheeks heat up and it only worsened when a deep voices sounded from the desk.

"So she finally wakes." he said, hearing the small movement from behind him.

You were sure your whole face was as red as your hair. Scrambling from the bed you almost fell, forgetting how tall it was in your frenzy before a whirl of sand caught you and stood you back straight.

"Careful."

Wrapping your arms around yourself you licked your lips, "How did I get in here?" you asked.

"I brought you here after you fell asleep on the deck last night... again." he told her, continuing to work on his log.

You could vaguely remember last night, you remembered taking your medicine and then going out to the deck and watching the fish but then that was it. "Why here though... why not my bed?" you said with a tilt of your head.

"That is your bed now... you will sleep by me, where I can better keep you safe."

Furrowing your brows you looked to the back of his head. "But... but that's your bed... are you sure you want me..."

Standing he made the few steps over to her and looked down at her, stroking the soft skin of her neck with his knuckles, "If I did not want you here, you wouldn't be." Looking into her eyes he saw the dark circles that had been surrounding her eyes fading along with the cut on her cheek that was nothing but a red line now. Other than her broken ribs and gun shot wound she was almost completely healed. Hopefully within a few more weeks she would be back to normal, then perhaps he wouldn't have to be AS gentle with her. Not that he would ever be rough with her. Brushing her hair back over her shoulder he cleared his throat. "Now I have a few things to take care of, we won't be here long but if you would like to go look around the island I will get one of the men to escort you."

Groaning you gave a pout and knit your brows.

Tapping his finger on her bottom lip as it stuck out some he lowered his chin, "No. We have already been over this."

Letting out a huff you dropped your shoulders, "Ori."

"That boy can barely protect himself. No."

"Bonez."

"Daz is coming with me."

"Maverick."

"He is going shopping for food."

Sighing you looked up at him. "See this is where Bon would come into play."

"Bentham is in prison so he is not one of your choices. Slade or Hex."

"Hex." you sighed, rolling your eyes.

Grinning at her glum look he curled his finger under her chin to lift her eyes back to his. "Don't pout darling. It is for your protection. Have fun and stay out of trouble, I will see you in a little while." Kissing her forehead he stepped away and grabbed his coat before heading towards the door. "Your belongings have been placed up in the room. I am sure you can find them, oh and there is something for you on the desk before you leave."

Watching him leave you let out a deep breath and looked around the room. Taking notice of one of the shelves you walked over and saw your sketch pad among several empty ones and a wooden case. Tilting your head and furrowing your brows you pulled it out and flipped the latch to open the case. What you saw made you gasp, a brand new set of charcoal pencils, oil pastels, paints, blending tools, everything you could ever need. Seeing a small piece of paper stuck into the corner by the sharpener you plucked it out and read over the fancy cursive,

Make your dreams a reality my little star.

Blinking you swallowed the small lump in your throat and licked your lips. Feeling a incredible warmth in your chest you smiled and gently closed the case before placing it back on the shelf for now. Looking around you saw the one piece you had done of the hourglass in the sand and the night sky with the strange star above ( What you now knew to be you can Crocodile's soulmate marks) framed and placed on one of the top shelves. Biting your lip as you grinned you moved over to the dresser and looked for your clothes, memorizing where everything was. After cleaning up some and dressing you were about to walk out with your book bag filled with your drawing supplies when you remembered Croc telling you there was something for you on the desk. Walking over you saw another folded piece of paper with your name on it. Lifting it you just did catch the few bills that fell from it and furrowed your brows when you looked over his fancy writing.

If you want something get it. Make sure you eat and stay by Hex.

That jerk had known you would pick Hex. Huffing you only took enough money to get something to eat or drink, refusing to spend the amount he had offered. You didn't like the idea of spending money that wasn't yours. There was a few things you wanted but you would find a way to make some money first. Stuffing the bill in your pocket you moved out to the deck and saw Hex waiting for you. Hex was a decent guy, quiet and easy going, a bit moody if he didn't eat.

"You all ready lil bit?" he asked.

Nodding you gave him a small grin and the both of you left the ship. You spent your time walking around the underwater island looking over this and that as Hex walked close behind you.  You smiled at the sight of the mermaids, thinking they were so beautiful with their shining fishtails. At one point you had found a piece of turquoise sea glass about as big as your thumbnail and extreme smooth to the touch. Sticking it in your pocket you hoped to maybe make a bookmark or something out of your treasure. Buying a smoothie you offered to buy Hex one but he turned you down and bought a soda. Making your way over to the fountain you sat at one of the benches with your legs crossed under you, Hex sitting a little ways down, eating something that smelled like pork but looked like some weird vegetable. Sipping on your fruit smoothie you sat it down beside you and put your sucker back in your mouth. Tilting your head you worked on drawing the pretty town and fountain. "Hey Hex can I ask you something?"

"Go for it."

"Um well have you ever met your soulmate?" you asked and then looked down, "I'm sorry, I don't know if that is a personal thing to ask. I just never, well I mean I don't know much about them so..."

"It's fine lil bit... Yea I knew my soulmate but it didn't work out. I won't what she wanted or rather I didn't have deep enough pockets." he said with a shrug.

Furrowing your brows you looked to the man, "I'm sorry to hear that Hex." you told him.

"Nah it's alright, probably for the best anyway." he told her. Glancing down to her drawing he tilted his head, "You bout' done, Cap'n said I had to have you back on the ship by six."

Nodding you folded you sketch book up and put it away in your bag before standing with him. When you got back to the ship you placed your bag up in the room before moving to help Maverick put away the shopping and start dinner. It wasn't long before you heard Crocodile's deep voice from the deck, asking if everyone was accounted for.

"Better ead' up lass, e'll be wantin' ya close by an I know ya want to see the island one last time." Maverick said with a small grin.

Looking to him you smiled and nodded before going up to watch as the ship sailed away from the underwater island. Leaning against the railing you grinned softly. Taking the sea glass out of your pocket you held it out some to look at the island through the turquoise glass. Feeling a presences behind you you bit your lip and craned your neck to look back at him. "Hello."

Looking down at her he felt his lip pull up at her innocent look. "Did you have a good time exploring?" he asked in his usual deep voice.

Turning around to face him you nodded. "Did you get your things done?" you asked.

Humming he looked down to her hand and rose a brow, "What is that you have there darling?"

Smiling you held out your treasure and dropped it in his hand.

"Sea glass."

"I found it by some coral. I thought I could make a bookmark out of it or something."

"A bookmark?" he asked.

"Yea that way I won't have to worry about loosing my place. I had one before that I made out of an old coin I found."

Looking over the turquoise glass he hummed, ever his little artist.

"...I'll just need to figure out a way to put a hole in it without breaki..." Watching as the piece of glass floated just above his hand before what looked like a needle made of sand shot through it you blinked. Looking down when he placed it in your palm you saw a small hole in the corner, the edges completely sanded down as well so there were no sharp areas. Looking back up at him you grinned. "Show off."

Smirking he placed his hand on her lower back to lead her towards his...their room. "Did you eat today?" he asked and saw her nod but heard Hex huff.

"Candy." Hex said as he stood by the wheel.

Gasping you looked to the man, "Snitch. And I gave you my last peppermint one."

Lowering his brows he continued walking, pulling her along with him. "Candy is not food."

"I had a smoothie too, that's fruit."

Shutting the door he rolled his eyes. About to ask what else she had bought he saw money still on his desk and quickly counted it in his head, she had only took ten bellies, ten?! He had left her two hundred! Dropping his coat to the chair he looked to her, "I told you to take that money."

"I took some of it..."

"You took ten dollars."

"That's all I needed." you told him. "What the hell do I need Two hundred dollars for?" you asked.

Narrowing his eyes he huffed, "Clothes, shoes, jewelry... whatever else women desire."

"I have all those things..."

"You have two outfits, one pair of boots and a locket. I do not consider that acceptable." he said, making sure not to mention the dress he had bought her. "Instead you bought a smoothie and candy." he said and saw her nod. "You spent ten dollars on junk." Seeing her bite her lip he watched as she took something from her pocket, laying down two, one berry bills on his desk with the other money before looking up at him with a smile.

"Eight." you shrugged and heard him growl.

"When I said for you to eat I meant real food, I did not mean to fill your already shrunken stomach with sugar."

"I didn't eat it all at once. I still have some left over for later." you said and watched as one of his brows raised before he looked towards your bag on the sofa. The moment his foot moved you did as well, "No..." As soon as he reached to grab the bag you snatched it and held it to your chest but felt him try and pull it from your grasp. "Let go..."

"I will not allow you to skip meals and then go consume candy instead." he told her, grabbing the bag from her he turned and opened the pockets to search for the stash. Feeling her hands try and grab the bag back he started walking to the bed to dump out it's contents but felt her arms wrap around his waist in an attempt to wrestle the bag back from him. While he wouldn't ever let anyone else touch him like this he couldn't help but enjoy the close contact with his soulmate.

"I'm an adult, I can eat what I want." you grumbled.

He couldn't help but be amused as she tried with all her might to reach the bag when he held it above his head.

"That not fair." you huffed trying to jump you grabbed hold of his bicep and tried hauling yourself up, your feet now dangling by his knees. "Croc.." you whined.

Smiling at the difference in size between them he lowered his arm but continued holding her up easily. It boosted his ego when he got to show off how strong and dominant he was, he had a size kink and enjoyed exploiting it. Sitting her down on the bed and using his sand to move the bag away from her when she almost had it he looked down at her small form. Leaning down over her he felt a predatory grin spread across his face. Pushing his left arm down and moving it above her head, careful to keep his hook away from her he used it to support his weight while his fingers curled under her jaw to lift her lips to meet his.

Pushed backwards by his mouth your head fell back against the mattress and a soft gasp left your throat. Your eyes were quick to fall close as he claimed your lips with his skilled ones. The fight quickly leaving you as his warmth enveloped your body. Your hands, where do you put your hands? Would he want you to touch him?

Trapping her under him he slowly trailed his fingers down her neck. He could tell she was nervous, her hands hesitant to touch him, like she wasn't sure he would be okay with it. Feeling her slightly trembling hands grip his sides he slowly ended the kiss, he didn't want her to be this nervous. Looking down at her he twirled a strand of her soft hair around his finger. He could see a ting of pink of on her cheeks, her eyes looking anywhere but his own. Tilting his head a thought crossed his mind. She had told him about her frankly fucked up childhood, she had shared with him about that man who had molested her, just the thought made his blood boil. Then she had told him about her ex boyfriend who had ended their relationship because she wan't ready for intimacy. So now he wondered had she ever actually been intimate with someone, man or woman? After what had happened to her he wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't. That idiot Rob from the bar she worked at was constantly trying to fuck her but she had always turned him down.

Feeling him move you from where he had been hovering over you you felt panic settle in, you had done something wrong. He hadn't wanted you to touch him. Instantly you felt saddened and embarrassed, your lip threatened to tremble but you stiffened it, "I'm sorr..."

Settling down beside her he propped up on his elbow, keeping his hook a safe distance from her head. He was about to speak when he heard her soft voice apologizing and quickly snapped his eyes down to her. "Do. Not. Finish. That. Word." he said in a deep command. Gripping her chin he lifted her eyes to his, seeing her try and look away again he knot his brows, "You look at me, right now." When her eyes met his he saw something he never wished to see from her again, shame. Brushing his thumb over her bottom lip he looked into her eyes, "I will say this once, you are never to apologize to me for being unsure." he told her. Still seeing a small amount of shame or perhaps embarrassment there he studied her different features. There was no way around this conversation, he needed to know. "Have you ever been intimate before?... and I do not mean what happened to you when you were a child I mean willingly." Taking notice of her lip bitten between her teeth and her eyes now focused on either his neck or chest or something other than his face he sighed. He was not normally this patient with people when he wanted answers but she wasn't one of his underlings or a business proposition, she was his soulmate and he would grant her his time. Brushing back her hair he took notice of a small scar by her temple, it was just barely visible, old, probably from her childhood. Seeing her ears pierced he made a mental note to buy her earrings at some point. "There is no wrong answer darling. It will not change anything."

Taking a much needed breath, your licked your lips. Your eyes stayed focused on the buttons of his shirt. They were shiny and a gold color, possibly real gold, knowing him. There was the standard four holes in the center with thread weaved through to hold the button to the shirt, a piece of stray black thread caught your eye and you subconsciously moved your hand to fix it but faltered for a moment.

Glancing down when he saw her hand move but stop he felt his brow twitch. Grabbing her tiny wrist, her eyes snapped up to his, confusion filling them as he moved her hand to his chest. "You can touch me.... I would like you to touch me." he assured her, thinking she needed to hear it. Watching her fix a loose thread on his shirt he grinned softly.

"Once... I guess." you said in a soft voice.

Furrowing his brows he looked down at her, her hands still fittling with his shirt and scarf.  "What do you mean you guess?"

"Well um I was drunk and it didn't really happen." you admitted.

Humming he loosened his scarf but felt her remove it. "Continue."

"Not really much to tell, I was nineteen, met a guy at a wedding I was helping bartender at... I thought it would help me get over everything that happened before. So I let him buy me a few drinks and go back to the room I had paid for." Swallowing you tried to focus on his fingers that were stroking your jaw and neck. "I thought I could just forget but I couldn't. When things started getting heated I freaked out, all the memories of him came back. I guess it was too much for him, he left, not that I blame him. I can't really remember much, I remember crying when I realized how broken I was, how..." closing your eyes you sighed. "I blacked out after a while I guess, well that and drinking the entire bottle of vodka myself. Woke up the next afternoon with the worst hangover of my life. I was late for work, which I had never been before. Vick was so mad when I told him what happened, made me scrub the floor at the bar by hand." you huffed, refusing to meet his eyes because of how ashamed you were. When he said nothing you felt that fear returning, what if he changed his mind, what if he didn't want you now that he had heard about you being so afraid of intimacy?

He listened to her story without interrupting and once she was done he studied her. He was good at reading people, good at picking up their emotions and he knew, he KNEW right now she was afraid. Afraid and ashamed. Rubbing his hand down her side to her hip he massaged over her clothes. "You are not broken." he told her, his voice deep and low. When her slightly glossy blue eyes looked up at him he lowered down but held her gaze, "Chipped, cracked even but not beyond repair."

That lump in your throat was back from earlier. His eyes, his silver eyes that normally looked so cold and downright cruel to everyone else looked at you with such tenderness and warmth it made you feel hope.

He was now right above her again, his nose brushing hers, "If you will allow me, I will help you heal, slowly. What you know, what you have been subjected to is not intimacy. I promise you darling that I will never do anything you do not want me to, if ever you need to stop or slow down you tell me and I will. Understand?"

Crocodile was always portrayed as this uncaring, hard, cold man in the One piece manga. He was the villain, still was probably just... not to you. To you he was Croc, your soulmate, your savior and you would trust him with your worst fear. Feeling his nose brush yours, his massive body lean over you ad his warm hand massage you left hip you swallowed hard.

As soon as she nodded he pressed his lips back to hers. This time her hands willingly touched him, one laying on his chest, her fingertips brushing his skin where his shirt was unbuttoned some. Her other hand gripped his shirt by his side. He continued holding his weight off of her with his left forearm, not wanting to crush her, his right hand rubbed her hip, her shirt rising a bit from the movement and giving him the chance to feel her soft skin. His cock gave a involuntarily throb in his pants and he grit his teeth instead of hardening the grip on her hip. As much as he wanted to deepen the kiss, to taste her he knew now was not the time. Once he had her completely comfortable with simple kissing and small touches then he would move on to more but his little star wasn't ready for that right now. Forcing himself to end the kiss he kept his eyes closed while he tried to regain control. He had never had this problem before, he would blame it on not having any since before all that shit in Alabasta.

Opening your eyes you looked up at him, noticing strands of his hair had fallen out of place and were now framing his face. You had to say you liked the disheveled look. Lifting your hand from his chest you tentatively moved it to touch his hair, you had never touched his hair, well not since he had fell into your living room.

He watched her through lidded eyes, she stopped for a moment, still seeming overly cautious but he said nothing. It was something she needed to learn on her own. After a moment her fingers finally reached up, he had thought she was going to touch his face but instead her finger moved to twirl around his hair. The corner of his lip tugged upward and he chuckled lightly at her innocence. Hearing Maverick call for dinner he leaned down to kiss her forehead before sitting up, brushing his hair back to it's usual style. Walking over to the bag that he had dropped to his chair. Opening it he looked inside and saw a good two handfuls of candy and other junk. Huffing he shook his head, hearing her come over he rose a brow, "I will make you a deal, you can keep your candy, you will not eat it all at once though, in return you tell me where you got this." he said, pulling the flask out of his drawer and holding it up.

Looking at the flask you grinned, "Deal." Taking your bag you looked up at him and shrugged, "Mihawk gave it to me."

Dropping his brows he looked down at her, a strange feeling bubbling in his chest. "What?"

[chandisiacs]

satsified. ✧ seo changbin

genre ✧ a bit of fluff, but mostly passionate, (lowkey) filthy smut

warnings ✧ nipple play, fingering, (maybe) overstimulation, mentions of gagging, deepthroating, and blowjobs 

word count ✧ 1946 

note ✧ requested by @violethhj and anonymous. for my baby @bruh-changbin. happy birthday, love. i’ll most likely be asleep when you read this, but i hope this satisfies you enough. have a great birthday! 💓💓🥂

song recommendations ✧ problem with you and stand still by sabrina claudio

[11:20pm] truth is, you were only a little satisfied with the satin sheets and silk nightgowns, the five-star michelin caribbean cuisine and top-tier hotel that would pass for a millionaire’s penthouse. it was part of the fbi agent boyfriend package, and who are you to deny offers such as traveling with your fbi agent boyfriend to the middle of the caribbean to deal with matters you never bothered to indulge yourself in? this was the life you always wanted, but there was one thing missing. 

changbin. 

being part of the fbi agency meant more work and less pay, and you knew that. he had already told you about it one time when you were whining about his late comings and early morning leaves. you figured that perhaps a little caribbean vacation would earn you more quality time with changbin, but you were stupid enough to even consider “business trip” labeled over “vacation”. nothing can beat satisfaction other than the feel of your boyfriend on your body, the light kisses on your cheeks and eyelids, and the warmth of his hand in yours while gallivanting across the caribbean roads. sadly, satisfaction wasn’t on your side today. 

as you stared out into the gleaming city at night, bokeh lights from skyscrapers and buildings shining in front of your figure, you tried to lift the heavy heart settling on your chest at displeasure. you didn’t even notice the door opening behind you. it was only changbin’s tired voice that snapped you out of your thoughts at that very instant, but you didn’t dare to turn around and face him. “i’m back. man, today was a total drag! there were a couple of guys that we had to take downtown, and none of them had an alibi to the culprit.” 

“a shame.” you hummed, words shallow. changbin was busy tossing his blazer by the bed and loosening his tie to notice how empty that sounded, and gave you a scoff. “a shame indeed. i swear, [first name], when we get my hands on him, i’ll--”  

he faltered when he sought you by the balcony, arms folded over your chest and back silhouetted by the raging white city lights and moonshine from across the night sky. changbin then knew that something was up, for he slowly approached you, placing his hands on your shoulders and whispering gently on your ear. “hey baby, what’s on your mind?” 

that was it. the warmth he was sending you through his palms smoothing down your shoulders, the breath brushing past your ear. you longed for his touch all day, longed for that voice of his. you never woke up to him beside you these past mornings, neither have you fallen asleep with his arms around you, so forgive yourself for being touch-starved. you had to tell him. 

“binnie,” you stared across the blinking skyscraper from a mile’s distance. “i’m tired. how come i never wake up to you beside me anymore? how come i never get to hear your ‘good night’s to me before i sleep? how come we never get time together? i agreed to come with you to this trip because i wanted us to spend some time as a couple. this was definitely not what i was expecting, changbin.” 

changbin stood silent the whole time, staring into the same distance as yours. it took him a few moments to respond, before he finally spoke up. “i’m sorry that i didn’t reach your expectations, [first name], but you already know that it’s less work--” 

“less play, i know.” you interjected, inhaling a sharp breath at the familiar sentence he would always pull up as an excuse every time he came home at unreasonable hours. changbin seemed to catch on to your irritation, and pulled your body closer to his, wrapping his arms around your waist. “i have a free day tomorrow.” he mused in hopes to cheer you up, which piqued your interest a bit. “we can have the whole day to ourselves, baby. just you and me. we can go window shopping, hang around a few beaches, eat in fine dining. how does that sound, hm?” 

a small smile spread to your lips at your boyfriend’s reassurance. sighing, you finally turned around to meet your hands with changbin’s while giggling softly. “i just want you, changbin. i could just stay in bed all day, as long as you’re with me. i ask for nothing more.”

if a smile could light up a thousand suns, then that would be changbin’s smile the moment you laid that onto him. this was nice. no, it was perfect. you’ve longed for moment where he’d have his lips on yours again, his hands intertwined with yours like tangled strings furled and difficult to pull apart. you could only thank the heavens for that moment to come true, and you gladly kissed back when he did, smiling at the love hidden beneath the warmth of his lips.

“i’m all yours.” changbin mused once he pulled away, and held his palm on your cheek, stroking his thumb against your skin. “what shall we do, now that i’m here?” 

you were just about ready to enumerate a couple of things that you would like to do with your boyfriend tonight, but that was interrupted when you felt the sneak of his fingers threading the strap of your nightgown, tugging it down slowly. you raised a brow at changbin, amused, and your amusement even delved deeper when you found him smiling at you innocently, a stark contrast to his fingers sliding the next strap down as easily as the first one. “i don’t know, binnie. what shall you do?” 

“you said you wanted me? here i am.” changbin kept his eyes locked on yours as he lead his fingers to trace down the line of your cleavage, before settling his fingertip on your right nipple. he circled around the nub before bringing two of his fingertips to squeeze it, and his smirk deepened when he heard your breath hitch from his touch. “ah, so this is what you wanted.” you responded, though your voice sounded smaller than usual. you couldn’t keep your voice at bay when changbin toyed with your nipple like that, and it only mildly frustrated you that you were growing wet just by his touch. 

“it is.” he hummed back, and grabbed a hold of the collar of your nightgown before staring at you. “but is it what you want?” 

“yes.” is the only thing that escapes from your mouth before changbin released the fabric from his hold, its lavender silk smoothing down your body before it dropped to the floor, revealing your stark naked form in front of his clad one. you grew hot just by changbin’s eyes darting past the entirety of your body, eye-fucking every single bit of you that you wondered how you looked like in his fantasies. “you slut.” he husked out, and it only took you little to no time to recover from that short spasm shooting from your spine at his name-calling before he grabbed a hold of your waist and pulled you inside, shutting the balcony doors shut and drawing the curtains close. 

changbin enraptured his lips on yours once more, this time needier and hungrier compared to the chaste one he gave earlier. the both of you were clumsy as you fiddled with getting his belt unbuckled and him fiddling with the buttons before his clothes were discarded on the carpet floor, and you let out a small squeak when you fell upon the mattress, changbin caging you beneath him as so. 

he wasted no time in kissing you senseless, saliva-coated lips making its way from your jaw, to your neck, then to your breasts. he took delight in taking your nipple in his mouth, his lips smacking and nibbling on the hardened nub like it was the cherry on top of a vanilla ice cream. you lulled your head back against the satin sheets, whimpering and moaning from the stimulation of changbin on your pleasure spot, and you buckled yourself when you felt his hand fondle at the folds of your pussy. his fingers worked like magic as he spread your folds apart and busied his middle finger on swirling pressure onto your clit. 

“spread your legs, baby.” he mouthed on your nipple, pressing soft kisses around the nub before moving over to your left nipple. you did as he was told, spreading your legs apart and adjusting to the strokes of changbin’s fingers in you. you cried out in immense pleasure when you felt two of his fingers sliding deeper onto you, and the pace quickened as well as his tongue on your nub, sending your mind into a total frenzy. 

eyes rolled back, moans spewing out from your mouth like a broken record, you braced your body from changbin’s foreplay and humped on his fingers, absolutely feeling blissful at the feeling of his digits around your walls. he was chasing your high before you knew it, and with jumbled words of, “i’m gonna cum”, you spilled all over changbin’s fingers, marking that as your first orgasm of tonight. 

changbin’s pace slowed down after that, and he pulled away from your reddened nipples to take in your form. you were panting heavily beneath him, sweat marring your temples and chest filled completely with saliva. your legs were twitching from post-orgasm, jizz drizzling down your inner thighs that looked like heaven in changbin’s eyes. lustful gaze locked in with your clouded ones, he brought the two fingers you cummed in to his mouth and licked them clean. he saved the last bit for you, of course, and drew his wet fingers in your mouth, breath becoming bated as you sucked on them like a filthy cumslut. 

“you taste yourself, baby?” changbin said lowly. “how do you taste?” 

“good.” you mewled in response, licking every bit of your cum and his saliva further down your tongue before you took every bit of his fingers in. you eyed him with thirst as you took his digits in your mouth, and changbin fought back a low growl when he felt the bulge on his boxers hardening on the fabric. instead, he shut his eyes and imagined his fingers as his cock, being dicked down and licked by your tongue and deepthroated by your mouth. he wanted you in him so bad, so, so bad, and he dimly thought about how he was so glad he was taking the day off for the whole of tomorrow. 

he could go all night with you if he wanted. 

with that idea in mind, changbin released his fingers from your mouth as soon as you were finished, and flipped you over so that you were on top of him. you were caught in surprise by his act, but as changbin smirked up at you, you wondered why he was such in a mood before he grabbed your hand and guided it on his erection, now hard and leaking with precum. 

“help me?” he asked innocently, the same tone as the one he asked you earlier by the balcony. you scoffed at his change of dominance, but you didn’t mind one bit at it. “you are unbelievable, seo.” you said one last time, before tugging his boxers down and finding your palm right on top of his hardened cock. 

with the small whine changbin let out, and the next pool of arousal building around your core, the both of you knew that this was going to take all night. you dimly thought about how you were so glad that changbin was taking the day off for the whole of tomorrow, and with that thought in mind, you were more than just glad that changbin was now all yours. 

[coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe]

Bloody, Beaten, Bruised or Maximum Effort

Quick Tag List: @kuruumiya @spacelizardtrashboys @enigmaticandunstable @nattinngrst @amyofaquitaine

This passage contains potentially: scenes of one (or more) characters swearing, blood, self-harm (unintentional) and scenes of a violent nature. whump content and potential tear-jerking moments.

Summary: In this 'chapter' Kirby has her first fight in New Jersey, and stay in New Jersey for a week, leading to some heavy whump content by a certain someone.

Kirby's POV:

Standard match, one on one with a ten minute time limit. Not much for a debut but it's made into a big deal upon learning the opponents were male and female and not the standard male on male.

Jobber VS Newcomer.

Andrew Strong VS Kirby 'Gluttony' Lucifarian.

The bell rings and the fight starts.

"Strong throws the first punch and misses."

"The Ogress capitalises and hits him with a Feeding Frenzy."

"Strong is backed into the turnbuckle but the Ogress continues her attack."

"The referee is forced to separate them and Strong gets The Ogress in a lock-up."

"A swift knee to the stomach and Strong is staggered."

"The Ogress hits Strong with the Organ Grinder and it looks like it's all over."

"She covers Strong and … one … two … three. She's done it! The Ogress has won!"

Walking back to the locker room, I caught a glimpse of Moolah as she sneers at me and I shrug her off, focusing on getting into some clean clothes and going back to the hotel. I change and walk out of the dressing room with my bag slung over my shoulder.

"Good work out there, Kirby."

I recognise the voice and turn to see André, "Thank you, Drey."

"Moolah, doesn't seem to like you girls."

"We're stealing the hag's time in the sun. She always hates people who do that, even if she brings them in. I'll see you soon Drey."

"See you soon, Kirby."

I start walking back to the hotel when I start hearing a voice behind me, gradually getting closer.

"Hey, Miss, I think you dropped this." A distinctly masculine voice called out.

I turned around to see what the person wanted. To my surprise they had picked up my wallet, "Huh, I didn't feel it fall out of my pocket, thank you."

The man handed it to me before introducing himself, "Paul Orndorff. I saw your match earlier, you're fast for a giant, tough too."

"Thank you, Mr Orndorff."

He looked over his shoulder, "Oh, well, I have to go, Piper's waiting for me."

"Uh well, bye Mr Orndorff."

He left without another word and I unzipped my bag slightly to place my wallet inside, zipping it back up and continuing back to the hotel. I spent the night in a cramped hotel room and went to the gym the next morning.

Setting myself up at a heavy bag and practicing as per usual, no interruptions, no one else near by to talk to.

It was as if my mind just drifted away and I went into this mental fog, no gloves on but punching as if I did, breaking through the skin on my knuckles and only stopping after I noticed smears of blood on the heavy bag.

I wiped it down and bandaged my knuckles before moving on to doing push ups, lunges, squats and other exercises that wouldn't leave me covered in blood.

I was alone for the rest of the day, so I ordered some pizza (simple, pepperoni) and relaxed in the hotel, I pulled out a sketch book from my suitcase and began sketching.

I didn't plan on sketching anything too important so I just went with what was on my mind, which happened to be Roddy, Jeez it's like I'm becoming emotionally attached to this idiot.

When I see him next I'll give him the drawing if I have it with me. I close the sketchbook and go back to the gym for around an hour, before coming back to the hotel and getting some rest.

I woke up the next morning (January 9th) and had a day much the same as the last, got up, did my morning routine, went to the gym, came back, ordered Chinese food and started drawing. It was just a shitty little thing, but once again, the Rowdy one came to mind.

What is it with Scottish men and me, is it because I'm a quarter Scottish, is it maybe because I believe in the folk tales and stories of old, of knights on white steeds, saving fair maidens and living happily ever after, while the monsters they kill or maim lie in a pool of their own blood and wish they could've had a different life?

I have no idea, and the idea of my own mind comparing me with those monsters makes me regret ever reading those stories while growing up, rather I should have stuck my head into scientific textbooks instead of tales of heroism and fantastical ghouls, then I would have never become and wrestler or met the amazing people in my life.

I look back down at the paper and decide to let Roddy have two final full page drawings on the other side of the sketches I've already drawn of him, I add in a small note on the page under a picture of Roddy that Sam had found.

The more I looked at the drawings and that lone picture, the more I realised the small details of Roddy's features, the strong jaw with a cleft chin, his hazel eyes? or are they dark blue? either way they intrigue me. And that musculature, Roddy's not slim but not a big man either, he's at that almost perfect weight to body fat ratio. Good lord, listen to me calling … Piper, Roddy, Him, perfect. I think I want to be sick, just to be rid of those thoughts.

Right as I run into the small bathroom I hear a commotion in the hallway and someone being thrown or more accurately, hurled into the other side of the bathroom wall. I take a deep breath, re-fix my mask into it's usual position and dart out into the corridor, right as the commotion ends.

The obvious victim of the bout was on the floor face down with a long, not to deep cut down the back of their left leg and was breathing heavily when I reached them.

"Woah, hey, hey buddy." I whispered to them in an effort to calm them.

"Kirby?"

FUCK

…

That Glaswegian accent, fuck, He's not even supposed to be in town, or is he?

"Piper?!" I whisper-yelled, more to myself than to him.

"Hey…" his voice trailed off, I heaved him over my shoulder and went back into my hotel room, tossing him down on the only bed and grabbing his left foot, reaching over to my suitcase and getting my personal first aid kit, nothing too fancy, some bandages, plasters, the bare essentials. I cleaned the cut and bandaged it, taping the bandage in place.

I glanced up from Roddy's leg and saw that he had passed out, "Shit." I muttered to myself, louder than I thought and his eyes flickered open.

"Kirby? Is that you?" His voice weak but still understandable.

I stood there, frozen to the spot, unable to move, I wanted to cry as I realised how badly he had been beaten up, his eyebrow cut, coming close to his eye, his hairline a mix of matted brown hair and blood that was starting to coagulate and then I started to notice more things wrong with Roddy's visage.

His shirt (a Piper classic, yellow with a wild cat graphic) was torn in several places, showing bruises and nicks in his flesh. His kilt, however, was fully intact, including his belt and sporran, though all of it was scuffed with little scratches, but no cuts.

"Kirby? Kirby talk to me, please?" He spoke so carefully and it broke me.

I dropped to my knees, weeping, and Roddy shot to his feet, before dropping down on his left side and leaning on the bed, getting only a couple of steps closer to me.

"Kirby, are you okay?"

"Roddy, look at ya," I took a deep breath in, "How can you be so beat up and worried about me? How is that possible?"

"Kirby? look at ya, you're crying over me? I thought you didn't care about me that much?"

I wiped the tears from my face and got Roddy back on the bed.

"Stay there, Piper."

"Oh, feisty."

"Roddy! Stay on the bed and don't move."

"Yes Ma'am."

I trudged into the bathroom and ran a long cold shower, and I heard him move off the bed before swearing and sitting back on the bed.

"I thought I said, DON'T MOVE Roddy!"

"Alright, alright. … feisty"

After the shower, I dressed in the bathroom after drying myself off and exited the room. I instantly noticed a sleeping Piper.

"I guess I'll sleep on the floor then."

"C'mere." He lazily waved his arm to try and beckon me over.

"No, Roddy, get some rest."

"Come here and get in the bed." He rolled over and picked up the duvet, lackadaisically blowing a joking kiss in my direction.

"Jesus, Roddy, fine."

I climbed into the bed and felt Roddy's arms curl around my waist and his face between my shoulder blades.

"Rod, get off."

"Wha'?"

"Get off of me."

"Why?"

"Aren't you married, get off."

"if I was married, there would be a ring on my finger," He waved his left hand in front of my face, "No ring, no wife."

"Oh. Still, get off."

"Now, would that be 'get off' in the, leave me alone, way or the 'get off' in the, I love you take me now, way." The latter a clear joke but it annoyed me even more.

"Leave me alone, Roddy."

He slid his arms off and rolled to face the other way.

"Small bed, Kirby."

"I wasn't expecting company, Piper."

"Your tattoos are nice."

"Sleep, Piper."

"I'm just saying."

"Roddy, you are injured, sleep."

"I looked through your sketchbook earlier, y'know, when you were in the shower, just flicked through it, and wow, you're a great artist."

"For the love of God, Roddy! would you please just get some sleep."

"Alright!, alright. No need to yell."

"One more word and I'm chucking you out the nearest window."

We both fell silent and managed to get some sleep, it wasn't until sunrise that either one of us awoke. As I stirred from my slumber I was face to face with the Scottish idiot. I yelped and, without realising his legs were intertwined with mine, fell off the bed with him falling on top of me, waking Roddy up in the process.

"Oh, well, morning sweetheart, did I wake ya."

"Rod, get ya damn 'Loch Ness Monster' away from me."

Rod's cheeks turned pink and he quickly looked down between our bodies before sheepishly standing up and hurrying to the bathroom, I took the chance to change into a graphic tee and some black jeans, not noticing that Piper had left the bathroom door wide open, until I heard his voice.

"Woah, so uh, all of you is bigger than normal?"

I yelped and threw one of my shirts at his face, before realising that I had thrown the shirt I was planning on wearing at him, "Wait, Roddy, I need that shirt."

He laughed before handing me back my shirt, "Uh, thank you … for …saving me last night."

"Were you even supposed to be in town?"

"Well no, but I …" He trailed off

"I can't hear you, Roddy?"

"It's nothing, really."

I continued on with my normal routine, mindful that Roddy was in the same room as me and injured. It wasn't until the phone rang that I had a problem, before I could reach the phone Roddy had already answered it.

"Who is this?"

I could hear a loud, angry voice on the phone and Piper got defensive.

"You think you're a hard man do ya?!"

Damien. That's got to be Damien, which means I am in some real trouble now. Thanks Piper, ya dafty.

"I'll get her to call ya back once you've calmed down."

He slammed the phone back into it's place and breathed out a hefty sigh.

"Kirby, is Damien your boyfriend?" He seemed instantaneously calm

I almost choked on air for a moment, "No! He's my manager, and he's like double my age. He's Vic," I paused for a moment, "He's my dad, as well as the other members of the D.O.D. We're not all his biological daughters though, just Vickie."

"So, he adopted you?"

"I guess you could say that." I avoided looking him in the eyes.

"Tell me the truth. Now!"

"Promise you won't tell anyone first."

"I won't tell a soul, now, why are you so, uptight, about who he is to you."

"First things first, my name isn't Kirby Lucifarian, it's actually Kirby Trevor."

"Oh, so Damien's not you're adoptive father, either?"

"No, my real parents are Heaven and Eric Trevor. Damien's Vickie's dad and only Vickie's dad."

"Are either one of your parents giants? or is it just you?"

"Just me, the closest person to me in height, family-wise was my uncle Rory. He's the reason I have the tattoo on my wrist."

I walked up to Piper and showed him the 'R' tattooed on my right wrist.

"So, he passed away?"

"Yeah. He died, eleven, no no, twelve years ago now, when I was Seventeen, My uncle Vaughn died a couple months later, he's why I have the lighter on my left arm, my uncle Vaughn was best known for being, in the nicest terms, a layabout smoker, and the smoke took him in the end."

"So, you have a lighter to remember a man who died by smoking?"

"Dark, I know, but uncle Vaughn would've laughed at it. Erik laughed at it when I explained it to him."

"Eric, your dad?"

"No, no, Erik, with a 'K', my old tag partner before I joined the D.O.D. I think you would've liked him."

"Really, now why would I like a guy I know nothing about?"

"Well, Erik's Scottish, He's from Edinburgh. He's tall-ish, then again I am a giant, so who am I to say what's tall, he's six-foot-five. He played the bagpipes when he was younger, he quit playing when he was twenty-three, same year we lost the tag titles."

"Rough," He interrupted "Continue, please."

"Uh, well. Erik's strong, very strong, he would compete in the Highland games and well, … I guess back then I thought I'd never leave him, until Damien gave me an offer I couldn't refuse and I left him. I had a whole life with him planned inside my head and I left it all behind, for what, cramped hotel rooms and breakfasts with André."

"You had breakfast with André the giant and you didn't tell me … You, You had a good Scottish man, and you left him, for," He gestured to the room, "all this?"

"Well I jus-"

"No," He held my jaw and looked me straight in the eyes, "You had a life, a man who obviously a close relationship with you, and you gave it up for breakfasts with André and shitty hotel rooms."

"I know I'm stupid."

"But you're not stupid, you saved me, I could have died in that hallway and you brought me in here, you stopped that bastard from killing me. I could kiss you."

"Please don't."

Sorry for cliff-hanger ending, but … END OF BLOODY, BEATEN, BRUISED or MAXIMUM EFFORT.