#ne abused the hold your body line too much

[sunsetno4]

🎶 You see, I spy for living, and I specialize in revenge, on taking the things I know will cause you pain~ 🎶

Or, local telepath caves to the siren's song that is Pulp's ‘I Spy’ again and forgets people have actual ears. This happens like once a week. Bless Marcia for never questioning why I Spy is in their store's playlist~

[thebottomfromhell]

can i please request the upper moons +muzan falling for a human female reader please? i kinda wanna see how they treat reader different ( cause akaza don’t hurt women)

Ok, female version of this post, then. Again, it won't be pretty, Reader being a woman instead of a man won't make most of these guys act much different, since the reaction was more focused on Reader's humanity than the gender/sex. But they would feel it very differently, considering that this guys would be sexist AF (reminder that being sexist is more than hitting women).

For this time I will not be adding Muzan for tha sake of making something more abour him later (Sexism is an important topic for this prompt, and I am still figuring out how to make traist of his) sorry for that. :''/

Uppermoons reaction of falling in love with Human Female Reader

Warnings: Manga spoilers, Reader's death, Cannibalism, Yandere behavior, Mentioned torture, Non-consented body modifications (becoming a demon), Implied non-con sexual content, Predatory-animalistic behavior, Münchausen syndrome, Vore elements (not in a kinky way), Implied child abuse, Typical sexism of the time period, Mentions of menstrual period, And Each of these is a warning on their own.

Gyutaro (ft. Daki):

First things first, Daki loathes you. She sees you as hag trying to steal her big brother away from her. Good luck so she doesn't kill you.

"I have my eyes on you, you whore! I'm watching!" .... brats.

Meanwhile, Gyutaro knows he likes you but he doesn't want to acccept it. Liking a human? It's acary, a weakness against other demons and slayers.

Also, he is sure you won't want him, an ugly freak with a lady, what a laugh! He can't trust you, specially if you say you want him back. It's a lie.

He doesn't know how to behave with you, the only person he ever loved was his sister, and he was never able to tell her "no", and he is sure he won't be able to say it to you too. That is scary.

You have a lot of power over him, he protects you, takes care of you, obeys you when you tell him something, but he stays away most of the time.

He looks at you, yearning, to the point it's obssesive. You never leave his head.

Daki, because she has been also looking, knows if you do something, threats and destroys your things, protective over Gyutaro.

"Daki, ne... cut it off." "BUT ONII-CHAN!"

Make a move yourself, or this will continue until you die, since Gyutaro will also protect you from his sister, but won't be able to stop her completely. She hates you.

He won't force you to anything, respect you, understand you have it hard as a woman without him, so he won't hold it against you id you want to leave. Or at least he will try not to.

Still, against him? You will always be free.

Gyokko:

Gyokko is fast to figure put what he wants you to do, that he wants you to stay, even if it takes a bit more time to figure out how he feels about you.

You fill his taste, there is no mistake, and his tastes are the best. So he makes sure to praise you almost as much as his ability to choose.

"You are beautiful, no canvas can compare to you. Look at yourself and tell me I am right, that you don't deserve my praise and attention."

He will teach you a bit of his arts, even if he doesn't really expects you to learn in the same "profesional" way he does. Art for women is a hobby, and if it gets as far to be a job then they must abandon the idea of having husband and children.

Then again, he is not a husband, and having him gatting you away from human standards and society might give you the chance to be a true artist.

He eats parts of you as punishment id he thinks you crossed the line, but he is more lenient he would be if you were a man. "Woman are more fragile and hysterical, of course you I need to be understanding."

3 strikes is a foot in his mouthes, 6 to the knee, 9 all the leg. You can only have so many strikes before becoming more a burden than you are worth, without limbs.

You can beg for him to turn you or die, neither way he will make a piece of art of your body before your death. You will be sublime no matter what, but life will only come with begging.

He will make you stay awake through the pain, he will open you up a hole in your stomach, mold it into a form that represents the new birth. He will take away your organs, use your blood as make-up, dress you up nicely in red and white.

He won't even take a bite off as he pours his blood in the new hole, making you his forever.

Hantengu:

He cowers away at the slightlest chance of falling in love.

He disappeared, almost from thin air. Hiding... from a human... Upper 4 for you, ladies...

He comes back to cry about it, sobbing and sometimes hurting you with his clwas by accident as he grabs you.

He had several wives in his life as human, he knows how to treat them, or at least he should know, feeling pressured.

Why can't he just treat you like he treated them? Why is he so scared? He knows he is not doing it right but he can't bring himself to be charming and behave as a gentleman.

He is aware of his flaws, and id terrified with the idea you will leave him for it, even if he is not around most of the time, coming back and forward, comes to cry and then leaves.

Are you food? Are you beloved? Are you useless? Are you beautiful? Are you conforting? Are you nice? Are you about to die because of him? Are you going to reject him?

He will stab you in your sleep, or in an argument, he killed wives during those before. All with a knife instead of his abilities as a demon.

He didn't have to be a demon to kill women and children, and he is really sorry, but you had to die for his sake.

Sekido:

Ok, you have three seconds before shit explodes, so if you run you might save yourself.

3... 2... 1... "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME YOU PIECE OF SHIT?!" There it is, that is all it took him.

A few days he kept think of you and he knew... you fucked up. You must scape until he calms down.

The fact that a fragile human, a defenceless woman, can make his heart beat faster and his face blush is simoly embarrasing. He hates it, it makes him angry, it makes him feel vulnerable.

The other clones are your best bet to get it this far, go for Karaku, he will keep you alive only for the sake of teasing Sekido.

Both of you know you will die, the more the likes you, the worse he will feel, and he will take it out of you.

You are just a human, you won't be able to survive him unless you become a demon, but he will not accept your refusal. He won't even tell you.

The relationship becomes stable in your new form, he just bites your neck and opens his wrist with his nails to transform you.

"Don't you dare trying to get away from me, woman."

Karaku:

"Gonna rock your body all night, it's lust at first sight" - probably Karaku if he knew Chris Crocker.

That is your chance for survival, and you take it, making him chose lust over gluttony.

He does threat of getting rid of you, but he makes sure to get you money, besides the flirting and gifts, considering he is aware he basically ruined your chance of a married life. He teases you about it when he feels cruel.

He makes sure to pleasure you, even if you don't want to, you don't get to make that choice.

It does take him more years than if you were a man to realize this is not normal lust, but that he is romantically attected to you.

He decides to transform you into a demon, doesn't warn or ask, when he realizes it.

He does it during sex, he bites you, moaning against your new wounds and the taste of blood. He will open his neck for you.

He will offer yourself to you once you wake up as a demon, memories lost and replaced with hunger and thirst. Not remembering the cold feeling of losing blood against his skin.

"Hey love~. Spend the night with me, will ya? I am all yours now, show me what you can do with it~."

Urogi:

Good news, Urogi doesn't want to hurt you.

Bad news, Urogi will hurt you anyway.

It's not even on purpose, he just gets carried away when he plays with you. He is not the most aware of the clones, so playful scratches and bites become dangerous.

He chases you sometimes, always wants attention, to play with you.

He likes to stay with you while you sleep, cuddling against you, sometimes you find him smelling around your scrotch when you are in your period, keeping his face around the area like a dog...

He gets bored of your limitations rather easily, so he decides to try to turn you i to a demon, consecuences be damned.

The last straw is a night when you have your period, the bited part of your legs your thighs, excited in different ways by the scent of ruined blood and vagubal fluids.

Then he will bleed into you, biting his own wrist off, feeding you chunks of his arms after spreading the blood over you.

He will chew and feed you mouth to mouth if it troubles you, only wanting to play with you, the new demon you.

Aizetsu:

His priority is that you are human.... and again, he is rude and hurtful about it.

"It's so sad for both of us. You can't be enough for me just like I can't be what you need. Pathetic." This bit-

Just a heartbeat put of place and knots in the throat were enough for Aizetsu to figure it out, and he didn't like it.

Humans are meant to die, besides, he can't be the husband you would need.

Still, he takes the chance of comfort, to pretend for both of you. He manipulates you into feeling pity for him, and that is how the relationship is formed.

He does kill you, painless and softly conforting you first, the second it becomes a problem.

He will also let you have your last words and wishes, will tell you that he wishes he could have been husband material for you.

He makes a memorial, kisses your corpse goodbye before leaving you behind.

"This is so sad."

Nakime:

Truth be told, she is not surprised.

She can see the appeal in you, she has always prefered women over men, Muzan being the exception, even if he is the exception of many things.

Nakime is very lenient with you, she understands that, as a human, you are more fragile than her, so she must treat you carefully.

She would not put you above Muzan, but she takes care of you, gives you gifts, spends time with you, praises you. You are a lovely lady to her.

Still, unless he approves she will not be transforming you. If he does, she will without any second thought or opinion.

The breaking deal is the next one, she kidnaps you for a while and the leaves you safely at your home. She controls all the interactions.

Why should she listen to you? She adores you, but you are still a human, nothing worth her obedience.

She would not kill you, no matter what. The only way you could die like this is suicide, age or ilness.

Then again, at the end Muzan decides to let her turn you, so he bleeds into a cup and feeds you ger blood, not letting you out until you do.

Akaza:

It starts when Akaza accidently calls you "Koyuki..." the first time you met. He fell hard and fast, and in a painful way.

He begged you to stay, not really knowing why. He cried, grabbed your legs as his knees stayed on the floor.

He needs you, craves for you, to the point of obsession. It takes him a while for him to realize he could turn you into a demon, because part of him venerates the image of a human girl with pink eyes and cheeks.

He can't hurt you when you deny him, but he wants to. He needs to, you have to understand why you should want to be a demon. Why you should want to be forever young, strong and healthy, to stay in the way things were before the poison in the well.

At the same time, he wants to take care of you, and he starts inviting himself to your house, doing the chores and watching you sleep.

He doesn't understand why he is always cheking your temperature and if you are breathing correctly, there is something relieving but also off putting when you always are ok. As if you should be sick.

Maybe part of him wants you to be sick so he can take care of you, but he can't hurt you.

You can't get rid of him, no matter how much you try, he always ends tucking you to bed and forcing you to stay in there until you sleep. He never listens, always treat you as if you were fragile and sick.

He learns how to make your favorites, cleans the house and laundry, starts getting money and pretends to nurse you, even if you don't have anything.

He doesn't know how to feel when you die of age, it's the only way you could die like this, but he breaks. Again.

Sometimes he still calls you Koyuki.

Douma:

Douma starts comparing you with Kotoha and his mother, he is quite vocal about it.

He tells you how silly you are, that his mom and Kotoha were the same, but each of you had your charm.

Yes, "had". He mostly talks about you in past tense, ge is planning to eat you soon. Kotoha almost scaped him and his mother became "too irrational, killed my father with a knife but poisoned herself" with time, so he wants to spare you the chase.

He talks about your face, your eyes, your hair and skin, mostly, he does things he did with Kotoha, hoping to make you laugh. Simple pleasures, not meant to last.

Both women left him, he is 100% sure you would if he gave you the chance, so he doesn't. He kept you by his side for some months, at most.

You are fun to be with, and he is sure he is fun to be around with too... maybe. Not that it matters, you don't really have a choice. Your words against his.

Also, turning you into a demon would give you the chance to run away while he is in a meeting with the other moons. How silly and stupid would it be from him!

He has made his mind to eat you the second he notices that, whatever he is feeling, this lust hunger, this craving, is like Kotoha's.

Because of his experience with her, he will make sure it's in his room, to make it right this time. Also, he will break your leg first, so you can run, coveribg your mouth and cooing you as you try to scream.

He will eat your tongue and lips first, complimenting the taste and texture, in a soft kiss, not really caring if you want it or not. That way you won't be able to formulate your screams for help.

He starts eating you from below, wanting to finish with your head and eyes since he had to blow Kotoha's. He doesn't want to repreat the regret of ruining such a pretty face.

Douma takes his time with you, talking softly and gently, praising you you taste and feel in his mouth, praising how you look.

He is more than satisfied after he finished, stomach full and you forever inside of him. Lovely.

Kokushibou:

This is the first time in his life that he wants the attention of a woman that isn't his mother.

He never felt attracted to women (or anyone, even if he always felt more in place sharing his life with other men), his wife included, he married her as his duty of producing heirs.

Having a woman by his side has always been a responsibility at best, a chore at worst.

But he wants you, and he can't understand it. It's new and confusing, that is the only reason he notices a few days after he catched feelings. Because loving women, wanting women, it's not normal for him.

He watches you, even yearns for you, but his pride and confusion don't make him do anything.

He blames you, resents you, calls you "a temptress" in his mind. What have you done to him? At least he doesn't conpare you to his his brother, but his other relationship with women don't let him relate you to a pleasure.

You are also human, meant to die like his mother and wife did, meant to be remember just as someone's husband and mother. Why are you stealing his attention, then? There is nothings special about you.

But this way it's easier to pretend he doesn't care the moment you die, easier than with Yoriich.

You are lovely, he keeps you around, but besides that? You are just a woman. A pause from his life as a samurai demon at best, a distraction at worst.

He will resent you after you die, but he will also forget you the same way he forgot about the other women in his life. There are only two people in his life with any importance, one was a boy to a man, the other is his King and Master. Women were never important in his life.

[shunshuntaiga]

heeeey, dear! 🥂💖 happy new year to you!!

idk if tumblr ate my other messages or you just didn't get a chance to answer them, but... just wanted to drop by and tell you how much i adored your soulmates au spadeliano fic. it was fucking incredible!!! just so... asdffhjllkkhdsgkj!! i have no words!! soulmate aus are hard af to write, but hooooly hell, you did yours justice. <3 i just keep reading and re reading it, i'm on love with your writing and your characterisation. you're a great writer :33

as for hanahaki... yeah, so much room to play around with it. and our two idiots would be perfect for the angst *fingers start itching as new story ideas form inside my mind*.. and you are SO right about the flower symbolism too!!

spadeliano a/b/o... now THAT'S a thought 👀 and casting aurelia as the omega? brilliant!! you just Know his dad started shoving inhibitors down his throath as soon as aureliano presented as an omega (btw i see livia as totally an alpha, which of course causes soo many conflicting feelings for aureliano). and just Imagine the absolute shitshow of a reaction the anacleti clan would have if spadi accidentally knocked up aure. just... aghhh!! someone needs to write this asap. :')

but i present you with ywt another angsty au to start 2023 with: time loop fix it au!! like... spadino is the one who keeps re-living aureliano's death. maybe the loop starts the day he can't kill manfredi and ends with spadi cradling aure's dead body on the boat. and spadino keeps trying to change things, but aureliano keeps dying. and if he doesn't die, someone else does, like angelica or nadia. whatever he does, the loop keeps resetting. and maybe the more spadi and aure sit down and talk shit out, the more self aware aureliano becomes. and idk.. yada yada, etcetera, insert plot here, BAM!! happy ending (:

aaaaanyway....so sorry to intrude like this yet again in your asks dear. i hope 2023 is kind to you <33 i hope that even if dark times come, you'll ne able to find a guiding light to get you through them. :**

Happy new year, darling anon! 🥂🍾

I think tumblr ate your messages, because I definitely haven't received any, which is unfortunate because I would have loved to read them :(

And afdhdjdkk I'm glad you enjoyed it because honestly I wasn't sure about it when I finally posted it, so thank you!

And omg yes, Livia is ABSOLUTELY an alpha in this case. I think he may be one of those, who comes from a family line of alphas, you know? Where it's a pride point of the family that Adami blood breeds strong alphas, but Aurelia is an anomaly. It would tie in so well with his family dynamic from the show.

I feel like the classic (if cheesy) story would be that Aurelia has abused inhibitors and lied about his status so as not to "tarnish the family name" or so that his men would respect him, so he doesn't feel the signs of his heat coming on when he meets Spadino. Or maybe the signs start showing when he realizes he's falling for him??? Which could be really fun.

And of course in this scenario Aure and Spadì's daughter is Rubina✨️❤️

OH. MY. GOD.

Time loop. The ANGST. OH god you're so right anon, gosh just the pain that Spadì would have to go through everytime he fails... holding Aurelia as he dies over and over again, wondering if he'll ever break out of this cycle, and thinking that it's somehow punishment for everything he's done.

And AURE.

Every loop he sees Spadino breaking down more and more, until he's basically just a shell of himself...!!! Retaining just enough memory that eventually they can work it out, and break free of it.

I'm imagining a scene after Aurelia FINALLY listens to him and they're sitting at the hotel eating pasta (obligatory pasta scene) and trying to figure out where they fucked up to fix it. Ooh the pain of Aurelia understanding the situation but still dying thoooooough. Aaaaaaaaaaaa!

And telling Spadì not to worry, maybe they did it this time, maybe it was going to be fixed. But Spadì is almost praying that it's not, because he can't imagine any timeline where Aurelia isn't by his side!!

Anon you are truly genius.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Fade

CW: Stab wound, descriptions of wound-packing and stitches, brief reference to child abuse, blood, passing out, talk of going into shock

Follow-up to Jake Being Stabbed

Everything smells like blood.

The smell of it is thick and sticks to the inside of his nose, coats his tongue with the memory of copper-salt-sweet, like when he lost a tooth as a kid by pulling it out, too impatient to wait. Every breath comes with an answering flush of agony radiating from the blurry handle he can see sticking out of his shoulder, he feels sick with pain down to his fingertips, out through his chest.

His heart beats in hammers, working too hard to keep pushing blood that doesn’t want to stay inside him.

His eyes are on the ceiling fan spinning lazily above his head. He needs to change those light bulbs, he thinks. Soon.

“Ne dvigaytes', Misha,” Antoni says, leaning over him, shaggy hair over distant dark brown eyes. Whatever Antoni sees, it’s far, far away from him. But his fingers move quickly, don’t press too hard. “Eto budet bol'no.”

Bol’no. Jake knows that one.

“H-hurt,” He repeats, eyebrows furrowing a little. The ceiling fan is starting to make him feel dizzy.

Or maybe that’s the blood loss.

“Hurt... p-painfully.”

“Da,” Antoni murmurs, emotionless, flat as the side of the knife, and Jake turns his head a little - oh, the world spins when he does that - and sees Antoni’s long fingers closing around the handle of the knife.

“Shit,” Jake whispers, realizing a half-second too late - or early, it doesn’t fucking matter, does it? - what Antoni is about to do. “Wait, Ant, don’t-”

“Nyet doktora, nyet bol’nitsy,” Antoni whispers. “Tol'ko brat'ya.”

“Oh, fuck, no.” Jake allows himself the whimper that escapes without his consent, he tells himself he allows it. His uninjured arm tenses as he closes his hand into a fist, closes his eyes, tries to shut out his knowledge. “Antoni, it’s gonna-... I’ll fucking b-bleed out-”

“Nyet,” Antoni mutters. “Etot byl slishkom napugan chtoby ubit' tebya, ya dumayu.” He pauses, and Jake cracks an eyelid to see Antoni holding out a cooking spoon, the handle horizontal in front of his face. “Bite down,” Antoni says in English, his accent heavier than Jake has ever heard.

But... he thinks... Chris has probably heard him speak like this.

He opens his mouth, obedient and terrified, and the wooden tastes odd against his tongue as he closes his teeth around it. 

“This will hurt,” Antoni says, and picks up the towel again, hovering it over the knife he is gripped tightly onto. “Very much. Bite down.”

He pulls the knife out of Jake’s shoulder in one smooth motion.

Jake’s back arches off the floor, his head jammed back against the tile, as he screams around the spoon, veins standing out in his throat. Antoni jams the towel against the wound in nearly the same second the knife exits and the sharp pain of the blade is replaced by the overwhelming throb of cloth being forced not on but in to the bloodied gash.

Jake keeps screaming, eyes wide open now, vision white and gray and sparking every color there is and several he’s pretty sure he can’t usually see, as Antoni packs the wound with careful, precise, efficient speed.

“At first I think it go through,” Antoni says, almost idly, as if this is nothing more than the average Saturday night for him. “But I see now is blood from front pooling on floor. A good sign. Tonight we fail. What if you leave fingerprints, hm? What then?”

Jake’s screams taper off into grunts, forcing air through his nose, his hand in a fist beating ineffectually against the floor just to have something to do. He’s going to black out. He’s going to black out. He’s going to-

“Yeshche raz, Misha.”

Antoni pushes the cloth viciously further into the wound and Jake’s world goes dark.

-

He swims up from darkness to pain he can’t understand, that his mind simply sets aside and refuses to acknowledge. His shoulder burns like it’s being slowly torn off of his body and he whines, eyes still closed, afraid of the light that turns the backs of his eyelids red. 

It was bound to happen eventually. 

He’d gotten worse and worse.

They didn’t leave in time.

They can go now, though. Right? This will be enough, right? He shudders as his arm is jostled a little, tears running from the corners of his eyes to soak into the short hair by his ears, run further, drip to mix with the blood on the floor below.

This has to be enough to be worth leaving for good this time, right?

“Mom-... fuck, Mom, y-you okay? Shit, shit, h-hurts, Mom, we gotta go, we gotta go-... he’s gonna kill you-”

“Sssshhhh,” She whispers, running her fingers through his hair. Her voice is deeper, but he knows who it is, then. Where he is. When he is. “It’s okay, Jake. I’ve got you. Dr. Masood is here. It’s okay.”

Jake’s eyes open and her brown hair swings around, in waves, she must’ve taken her braid out before someone called her. Nat smiles down at him, concern written in the way her eyes travel over his face, in the tightness of her jaw and the way the lines of her face stand out more than ever, etched in stone. 

“Nat-... h-he didn’t do it on p-purpose, he thought-”

“I know,” Nat says, softly. There’s a spike of pain and Jake turns his head to see the flash of light off a thin needle and unmistakable stiff black thread. He stares at it, barely able to comprehend what’s happening.

Dr. Masood doesn’t look at him. He is far to focused on stitching closed Jake’s shoulder. His own lips are a thin line, and there is nothing but determination in his dark eyes, in the swift motions of his hands, expert, unshaking. 

“Chris told me,” Nat says, running fingers through his hair again, reaching to gently turn his eyes back to her. “That, um, he said his name is Jameson... thought you were someone else. I don’t care about that right now. Just look at me, Jake. You’re not going to bleed out, I don’t think, but you sure gave us a fright.”

“All... all in a day’s work,” Jake says hoarsely, and Nat smiles for him, shaking her head slightly. He blinks a few times - the sharp pain of the stitches is... less present, somehow. Less insistent. He feels a little distant from it, drifting somewhere just beside his own body, not really inside it.

That’s probably not good.

“Where-... where’s... Chris, Ant, everybody-...” He trails off, unable to find the energy to keep asking.

“Chris is in your room with Kauri,” Nat answers, reaching over to take his good hand, right hand, his uninjured arm, closing her fingers around his. He can barely feel her grip. “Ant... I don’t know. I think in the bathroom upstairs. Everyone else is in their rooms.”

“Kauri.” Jake tries to move, and then groans and collapses back to the floor again. “Kauri, shit, he must’ve come back and seen-”

“Kauri called me,” Nat says quietly, evenly. Her voice is careful, not exactly emotionless but not shaking, either. There’s nothing but warmth and certainty there, and Jake lets himself rest in it. “He wasn’t making much sense, and I got here as fast as I could. Chris filled me in once I did. He was-... having some trouble, but he got the words out. Dr. Masood is going to get you sewn up and stabilized.”

“Antoni did excellent work packing the wound,” The doctor is murmuring to himself. “Quality work. Fresh clean cloth, not sterile but better than anything else in your average household... this is shockingly clean for a stab wound, the assailant missed major... everything, really, what absolute good fortune-”

“Dr. Masood?” Nat raises her eyes, and the doctor pauses in his meticulous work to look at her. “His fingers are cold.”

“Numb,” Jake corrects her in a mumble.

“What?” Dr. Masood’s eyes move to Jake, now, but there is no change in his expression of focused scrutiny. 

“M’fingers... numb. Can’t really feel Nat’s hand.”

“Hm.” Dr. Masood goes back to work. Jake thinks he’s working more quickly now. “Natalie, what is Jakob’s blood type?”

“Uh...”

“O positive,” Jake manages. He remembers having to know this for the hospital as a kid. “’M O positive.”

“Lucky you,” Dr. Masood says quietly, and then sits back on his heels, looking up at Nat. Looking at him to jake feels like looking through a campfire, everything wavy and woozy and strange. He feels drunk, and cold. And like he’s looking at himself from across the room. 

He tries to waggle his fingers in a wave. Hey, me.

Dr. Masood is frowning now. “Go to my car and bring in the cooler you find there. It’s not too large, it shouldn’t be hard to carry.”

Oh, the white around his eyes is back, pushing in on his vision, wiping it clean. White and gray and black and red.

What’s red and black and white all over-

“Fuck,” Jake whispers. “Chris is... gonna freak out.”

“Too late for that,” Nat says, matter-of-fact. “We can handle that later. Doctor Masood, why-”

“Jakob needs blood,” Dr. Masood says simply. “And I have been told there will be no visit to a hospital. I can provide some care here. Call your friend who does EMT work, they will be better at emergency stabilization than I am.”

“They might be busy-”

“Then tell them to stop being busy. Jakob Stanton needs blood.” Dr. Masood’s eyes are on Jake’s face again, and his lips thin even more. “I do believe he needs it right now.”

Jake stares back at the doctor’s wavy, shivering face until his vision fades to black.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @vickytokio @whumpfigure @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @newandfiguringitout @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @endless-whump

[julemmaes]

honeybee

this is a following to my modern au nessian called drivers license (part one)

A/N: YOU REMEMBER WHEN I TOLD YOU I WASN'T SURE I WOULD'VE FINISHED DRIVERS LICENSE? CAUSE IT WAS LONG AND IT WAS TAKING A TOLL ON ME. WELL, FUCK ME. I DIDN'T KNOW REAL PAIN UNTIL I HAD TO FINISH THIS

the song this fic takes its name from is called honeybee and it's by the head and the heart

warnings: abusive household, description of violence, hospitalization

have fun I guess;)

Word count: 9,246

the day

When Nesta had broken up with Cassian in the middle of the night all those years ago, she had never imagined that her life would change so much.

Looking at the sparkling ring around her finger, with that delicate tiny diamond set in the equally fine and elegant silver band, she couldn't help but think that she had made the right choice when he had gotten up and decided to leave.

She had never regretted that call and she certainly wasn't starting to on her wedding day.

five years, three months and eighteen days before

Nesta had mentally prepared herself to see him once the door opened. She had prepared herself to see his dark hair tied back in a tousled bun and his thick eyelashes framing his equally dark eyes, still they would sparkle upon seeing her - as they had done every time since the day he had found her on that library's floor.

What she hadn't expected to find on his doorstep though, was the girl with blonde hair and long slender legs bare of any clothing and her torso covered by a t-shirt that Nesta recognised as one of Cassian's. A shirt she had worn several times over the months they had been together.

He looked into her face and it was hard not to notice the imprint left by the pillow on her cheek, her tired eyes still heavy with sleep. She had been sleeping.

Nesta glanced towards the living room, completely visible from where she was standing, and any hope she'd had at that moment that Mor was sleeping on the sofa vanished into thin air like smoke when she saw no pillows on the cushions. No blanket.

She looked back at Mor, who was now staring at her with a dumbfounded expression, as if she didn't believe she was standing there in front of Cassian's house. If she wasn't sleeping on the couch, it only meant she was sleeping in his bed.

He didn't have guest rooms, she knew that.

She was sleeping in his bed.

Her ears began to buzz and Nesta's vision fogged as she tried not to scream.

She had known.

Pursuing her lips into a thin line, she lifted her chin upwards a little, daring the girl in front of her to say something, and then turned, starting to walk towards her car, poised never to return.

She could feel her heart beating in her chest like a war drum and every step she took felt like her legs gave out a little more.

She was tired. She hadn't been able to sleep for weeks. To eat, study, read.

Nesta had died again under the unrelenting weight of the loneliness that had found peace the moment Cassian had set foot in her life and that had swept through her existence like a hurricane, turning upside down everything beautiful she had managed to find.

She felt the sting of emotion build in her throat, the ever-growing knot of tears that couldn't wait to be released, that Nesta knew would explode as soon as she stepped into the car and his house was out of sight.

She was sleeping in his bed.

She had just tightened her fingers around the keys when she heard it, Morrigan's ringing voice, calling her, and then her hurried footsteps behind her. Nesta turned.

"You're making a mistake."

Her eyebrows shot up, "Sorry?"

Mor seemed to flinch at the tone of her voice, "You're making a mistake." Nesta had to laugh and didn't hold back the stunned chuckle that escaped her control as the blonde continued, "You shouldn't leave."

She seethed, "You're wearing his clothes." she pointed out, taking a step forward and then another, forcing the other to walk backwards. She looked into her eyes, frowning, "You were sleeping in his bed only a few minutes ago," her words spoken in a whisper, but the poisonous emotion and hatred that laced the words conveyed everything Nesta was feeling, "why would I stay?"

Mor remained silent, studying her face, "Cass should be here any minute."

The way she said his name. Cass, like she had some kind of dominion over his person. Like she was the only one who knew him.

Nesta couldn't stop the words before they were out, "Why?"

And this time she wasn't asking her why she should stay, wait for him to come back. No.

She took another step forward, "Why did you let him lie to me? Why did youlie to me?"

The dull, dormant pain she'd felt that month woke up like a child pulled from sleep by a nightmare and hit her full in the chest. That emptiness that should have been filled with anger, jealousy, betrayal.

"Why not ask him to leave me? Why steal someone else's boyfriend?"

And at those words, she recoiled, because it wasn't true. Morrigan had never stolen Cassian from her.

Cassian had never been hers in the first place.

The girl opened her mouth to reply, but Nesta didn't give her time to speak and raised a hand, continuing, "Cause I ask myself that every night. I wonder what he sees in you," she laughed, letting out a choked breath as her eyes filled with tears, "What else do you have? You're older, it's true. You're prettier, blonder, taller. Perfect." she spat that word out in disgust.

"And you know what? I knew it. God, I knew it and I was pretending not to. The way his gaze would occasionally wander when we were talking or the mornings when he'd arrive at school in his clothes from the day before because he'd been to your place and hadn't slept." she clenched her hands into fists and smiled mischievously when she saw Mor swallow.

She was about to attack, to bite, to strike wherever she could to regain the dignity that had been stripped from her, but a deep, surprised voice interrupted her, "Nesta?"

She stiffened, turning around slowly. She didn't want to say anything, she just wanted to run to her car, get on and drive away, but what was in front of her knocked the breath out of her.

Nothing. There was nothing of the man she had loved in front of her now. The ghost of what Cassian had been no more than forty days before.

His eyes were slightly wide and that excited glint Nesta had hoped to see when he opened the door was just a miserable memory, because the hazel brown she loved so much was gone, covered by an opaque veil of sadness and pain she saw every day in the mirror.

Her gaze fell on the slightly hollowed cheeks and deep dark circles under his eyes, the messy, grimy hair, the dirty clothes that looked like they hadn't been changed in days, and finally to the cast around his left arm.

"What happened to you?" she asked in a weak voice.

He sighed and his eyebrows drew together. His shoulders visibly sagged and then the bag he held in his right hand fell to the ground as he took a step forward, "Nesta." he breathed.

She looked into his eyes, "What did you do?"

He gave a half-smile, bringing his free hand to his broken arm, "I-" then chuckled, "You're here."

"Cassian." Mor's voice made them both turn, but Nesta's eyes quickly went back to the man.

She needed to know if he was going to enter the house with her or listen to her, should she speak.

It was as if he hadn't even heard the blonde. "How are you?" he asked her, taking a step towards her.

Nesta couldn't connect her brain to her mouth, she was like a broken record when she asked, "What happened to you?" because Cassian wasn't well. And she wasn't talking about the broken arm or the dirty clothes, she was talking about the light that she saw was going out even now with every passing second.

She couldn't move, but she wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he came to his senses.

"Nothing," he said with that stupid weak smile on his lips, "you came here- do you want to talk? Can we talk?"

She heard Mor inhale sharply and then saw her walk around her until she was in front of him, and although they were close, Nesta couldn't hear what she said. She felt her heart break a little more and wondered how it was possible that it wasn't already sand in her chest. All she knew was that Cassian stiffened and swallowed twice when Morrigan finished talking to him.

"I should go." she managed to whisper, torturing her fingers.

He shook his head, taking a step forward and the blonde's hand snapped on his arm. Both their eyes fell on that touch and Nesta couldn't take it anymore, she had to go. The grip of her lacquered nails around his jacket was overbearing, possessive, but it was also familiar to his body and he wasn't retreating.

She took a step back, intending to run away and never return, and lost her balance, stumbling on the grass of the flowerbed. She opened her eyes wide and saw the way Cassian lunged forward to catch her, but Nesta was already on the ground. She cursed under her breath and the urge to cry only increased when she realised she had fallen onto a yellow rose bush.

Nesta burst out laughing at the irony of the picture they were composing at that moment.

"Nes, are you alright?"

If it hadn't been for Elain explaining to her the meaning of flowers every spare minute of her days, she would never have laughed, but the fact that she was now removing the thorns of a plant that represented jealousy and betrayal while standing in front of the man she loved and the girl who had managed to take him away from her was comical.

She stood up perhaps a bit too quickly as her head spun wildly and a myriad of black dots blurred her vision. She staggered a little and it didn't escape Cassian's attention as he moved even closer and wrapped his hand around her wrist. Nesta held her breath at the touch of his skin, so warm, so rough.

He was looking at her with a wrinkled expression and she just wanted the ground to swallow her whole when he asked, "Have you eaten today?"

She looked at him in amazement for a second, breathing out a laugh and then turned her head to the side, biting her lip. Because of course he was going to find out. That Nesta was no longer living.

After all, this Nesta, the Nesta who was now staggering around like a desperate drunk in his front yard, was the same Nesta he had met on that library floor.

She snatched her hand from his grasp and without looking at him walked towards the car, "Goodbye Cassian."

"Nesta, what- where are you going?" he asked her, following her, his hands raised as if he could grab her, keep her with him once he reached her.

She turned her head and caught him by surprise as he jerked back when she pointed a finger at him, too close. "I'm leaving and I have no intention of coming back. Don't follow me. I was wrong to come here in the first place."

The shock on his face was like receiving a punch in the gut. He lowered his arms, defeated.

"Why are you here?" he said softly. And it was as if he wasn't really asking the question. It was as if his mouth had finally decided to speak the words that had been rumbling around in his head until that moment.

Nesta shook her head and a weak sob broke her breath, "I can't."

Cassian stood there as she made her way to her car and when she finally touched the door and opened it, feeling the relief of freedom, he met her gaze from over the roof. She met Mor's gaze and felt the world crash down on her again. Heavier. More imposing.

Cassian took a step forward, "Why are you here?"

And Nesta exploded, "Cause I still fucking love you."

Her voice broke on the last word and she didn't even notice as tears began to stream down her face, "Because I still love you!" she screamed, slamming the door and spinning around the car, "Because I love you and I don't have-" a sob broke the sentence, "And I'm not okay! But you seem to be doing just fine without me!" she squealed even louder, bringing a hand to her chest. "I'm hurting! I'm hurting and I'm alone! And I miss you!"

She couldn't see it, but his eyes were glazed over too, and as he slowly approached her, a lone tear slid down his cheek.

"Fuck!" she cursed, turning around again and opening the door. She took a deep breath amidst the crying and looked at him, really looked at him, trying to memorize every detail, "Goodbye."

He shook his head, "No."

And Nesta waited no longer, got into the car and drove away.

five years, three months and seventeen days before

Nesta

"How did you find my house?" asked Nesta, clutching her sweatshirt to her chest.

Mor, in all her beauty and poise, stood at the door of her house, with her own clothes on this time.

"Hi Nesta." she said, biting her lip. Not out of embarrassment, to keep herself from saying anything else.

She didn't move, "How did you find my house?"

"I'd like to talk to you," she continued, still ignoring her question.

"It's hard to talk to a person if you keep ignoring what they say."

The blonde closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, "I know where you work, I followed you here."

Nesta's eyebrows shot up, "I could report you for stalking."

Mor gave a tight smile, "But you won't. Can we talk?"

Nesta felt the sudden urge to call the police, just to show her that she could, but she only said, "Why would we?"

"Because yesterday after you left, Cass tried to get in the car and follow you and he can't drive," Nesta found herself nodding thinking about his broken arm, weakened from the sleepless night, surely not because she wanted Mor to know she agreed with her. "I had to pull him out of the car by force to keep him from killing himself against a pole. I've never seen him so shaken up in my life and-"

Nesta interrupted her, "I don't know why you think it's my problem. You're his girlfriend now, the fact that you're coming to me for advice is concerning." then she stepped back, clasping her hand around the door to slam it in her face.

The audacity...

"Cassian still loves you."

She froze, holding her breath and looked Mor in the eye. She chuckled softly, shaking her head, "No, he doesn't."

The blonde huffed, bringing a hand to her forehead and moving a strand of hair, "I'm not his girlfriend anyway."

Nesta smiled sarcastically, "That too, the fact that you can't define your relationship, isn't my problem and I'd rather you leave."

Mor laughed in shock as her eyebrows shot up, "You're unbelievable," then she frowned, taking a step forward to push the door open, "Cassian and I aren't together. We never have been and I'm fucking lesbian."

Nesta's eyes widened in surprise, then she quickly recovered from her astonishment and shook her head, "It doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?"

"No, Morrigan," it was the first time she'd said her full name. That she was saying it directly to her, "It doesn't change anything because he would still leave in the middle of the night to come to you," she shifted her weight on her left foot, "It doesn't change anything because he chose you every day and I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner. It would have saved everyone a lot more time and effort." then she held up a hand when she opened her mouth to retort, "And I don't care if you're lesbian or not. Cassian loves you and if he doesn't love you with words, he certainly does with actions."

Mor stared into her eyes for a while, silently, then nodded slowly, shifting her gaze to the houses around hers. She adjusted her sunglasses in her hair and then looked back at her, "Can I come in?"

"Why."

"Please, I just want to explain why what happened happened. And why things have changed or are changing, but I can't do that in half a minute and-" then she frowned, wincing, "Look, I'm not doing this because I particularly like you, but because Cassian has saved my life more times than he thinks and than he takes credit for. Talking to you is the least I can do to repay him in some way."

Nesta felt something tug at her heart and for a moment she thought about slamming the door in her face and going back to the couch to watch a black screen, but then she remembered the sleepless nights she'd spent thinking about what she could do. For her, for Cassian... to the person in front of her who was begging her to let her in, and she stepped aside.

The surprise on Mor's face was a small victory on Nesta's part, but she quickly recomposed herself, closing the door behind her once she was in the house and telling her to follow her into the living room.

And despite the situation, Mama Archeron had not raised her daughters to treat guests badly. She forced herself to say, "Can I get you anything? A drink, maybe water, I have wine if you want."

Mor gave the imitation of a smile, "I'd take something stronger, but I have to drive. Just water will do, thanks."

Nesta walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, and once inside she leaned against the table with both hands, breathing hard as if she had run a marathon. What was she doing?

She had let Morrigan, the reason for her break-up with the man she loved, into her house.

She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw, begging her body to relax, and then, when she realised it wouldn't take anyone that long to pick up two glasses and a bottle, she moved.

Walking back to the living room was like walking a thousand miles without ever eating, sleeping or drinking and by the time she sat down, she was exhausted. That conversation could have settled everything as well as confirmed any worries and erased any doubts Nesta had about leaving that city forever.

Mor drank a whole glass of water before she started talking and it didn't take long for her to realise that the girl was just as nervous as she was. The agitation evident only in the twirling motion of her ankle as she sat with her legs crossed.

She took a deep breath, "I've never talked about this with anyone but the boys." Nesta realized he was talking about Azriel and Rhysand, as well as Cassian. "So understand if I stop now and then, these aren't things I tell lightly."

She could only nod.

Mor cracked her fingers, then took a deep breath and brought one hand up to massage her right eyebrow, where Nesta had always noticed the small white scar that kept hair from growing there. It was the only thing that people could tell wasn't beautiful about the girl, but Nesta had never believed anything other than that it only added to her curiosity in getting to know the deity she actually was.

Every positive thought she'd ever had about that tiny scar disappeared as Mor began to speak and a horrible feeling clutched her stomach in an iron solid grip.

"My father is an alcoholic."

Nesta didn't react. She didn't know if she should say anything.

"He always has been. Even before I was born. I don't know how my mother ended up in a relationship with him, but she's a lost cause too. She started using drugs when I was around six. I still remember it like it was yesterday.

"Keir, my father, has also always been a violent man." Mor took a shaky breath, swallowing, "He did this to me," she whispered brushing the mark on her face, "when I was fourteen and got my period for the first time. He broke a bottle on my head-"

The fact she’d gotten her cycle so late only sprouted more doubts in Nesta’s mind while her thoughts ran wild, picturing a malnourished little girl in that broken home.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," Nesta interrupted her, looking her in the eye, "I know you're trying to help me understand, that you're trying to help Cassian, but-"

Mor put a hand on her arm, blocking her, "Don't worry about it." she gave her a weak, sad smile, "I know I said I didn't like you, but Cassian loves you." seeing that Nesta was about to interrupt her one more time, she tightened her grip on her arm, "He loves you. And if this conversation ends the way I want it to, you'll be around for a long time to come. So you'd better be aware of everything, don't you think?"

There was something in Mor's voice that Nesta couldn't identify. She remained silent, contemplating her words, but then nodded weakly.

"There have been so many other episodes and I still bear the marks of most." she lowered her voice, clenching her fists several times. "If I'm here to tell you about them now though, it's only because of Cassian."

Nesta braced herself for what was to come.

Mor bit the inside of her cheek, "All the times he came to me in the night, all the times he left you alone at the last minute or had to come away in the middle of your dates... he was coming to save me." she said with teary eyes, "For years, they took turns as to who should come each time, between him and Rhys and Az. But when the other two had to leave a couple of years ago and only Cass stayed here, well," she sighed, propping an elbow on her knee and resting her forehead on her hand, "I feel guilty every day for what they do, what he does. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay him for everything he's managed to save in my life. My life itself. So I need you to understand that it's not his fault."

She looked into her eyes and Nesta was so shocked by everything she had just been told that she couldn't respond.

"The night you broke up with him," she resumed after a few moments, bringing a hand up to the neck of her jumper and shifting the fabric, revealing a portion of jagged skin just below her collarbone. The only evidence of just how bad the cut she had suffered must have been. "-I was going to die. Literally. I called the police so many times, Nesta, they never did anything. I didn't even try that night."

A rush of anger raced through her body at that truth. She knew she wasn't lying.

"My dad found out I liked girls, somehow, and things escalated quickly. My mom was half passed out on the couch and he had just come home," she paused abruptly, frowning. "The boys came into the house after I managed to lock myself in my room and while Az and Rhys were thinking about me, Cassian tried to take Kier down, that's why the broken arm."

Nesta's eyes went wide. For it to come to breaking a bone... it must have been a long night for everyone, frightening and scarring. She looked up at Mor, placing one hand on the one still on Nesta's arm and smiled reassuringly at her, but with a serious expression.

Mor returned the squeeze.

"I'm staying at Cassian's now, at least until the others find proper accommodation. We're all looking for a flat together so Cass can finally be free of us all." she said, fixing her eyes in hers, "From me. From everything."

Nesta nodded, then cleared her throat, finding her throat dry, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Why didn’t he, were the unspoken words.

Mor bit her lip, "It's my fault," she said apologetically, "I've been dealing with the opinion and criticism of the rest of the world my whole life. I didn't know you and all the guys' exes were always very quick to judge me without knowing anything at all about me. By the time I realised you weren't like the others it was too late."

"You can flip me off if this question is too personal, but why didn't you move out sooner? Why stay in that house if..." she didn't know how to finish the sentence, but it was enough to make the other answer.

"They controlled all my money and I was in no position to ask for financial support from the boys. I couldn't find anyone willing to help me get back what was mine by right, but we're looking for a way now. Az just got a job at a law firm, he just needs to convince them to take the case on probono." she smiled tensely and Nesta could tell that even that small act of generosity from her friend was weighing heavily on her.

Nesta ran her hands over her face, taking a deep breath as each piece fell into place and each question mark disappeared. Now that she knew the truth, it all made more sense.

But did that change things between her and Cassian? Did it change the fact that he had lied to her, despite for good reason?

She didn't have an answer.

But she did understand Mor. She understood why she had asked him not to tell her anything. It was the same reason she had never told anyone about Tomas except Cassian.

Looking at her out of the corner of her eye, as she poured herself another glass of water and drank it in one go, she made a decision.

She owed it to the person sitting next to her, to give Mor something back for the trust she’d put in her, she’d tell her everything about Tomas, her mother. The way her family had managed to heal and left her behind, alone, until Cassian.

She was about to open her mouth when Mor's phone rang and an amused smile appeared on her face. She lifted the phone so Nesta could see the caller's name and wrinkled her nose, "His ears must have been ringing, hmm?"

Mor chuckled and then answered, "Hello?"

In the deathly silence of the house, Nesta clearly distinguished the man's words.

"Mor, I'm so sorry about last night, we didn't mean to get drunk like that, I promise it won't happen again. I didn't think about what you would-"

"Calm down you overbearing mother hen," Mor said harshly, "but yes, it won't happen again."

"Where are you? Come home so I can make it up to you somehow."

The blonde smiled wickedly and looked at her nails before saying, "I'm at Nesta's."

A pregnant silence made its way into the room.

"What do you mean?"

"We're talking," the girl continued undisturbed.

Nesta had to restrain herself from laughing because she could well imagine the expression on his face at that moment.

"Mor, stop bullshitting."

"I'm not bullshitting, I'm serious, listen," and then she pushed the phone towards Nesta, who's eyes went wide, shaking her head. Mor nodded at her and she murmured a weak, "Hello, Cassian." before the blonde retracted the phone, bringing it to her ear again. "See?"

"What the fuck."

"Don't worry, I'll be home in less than ten minutes. I think." then she eyed Nesta, covering the microphone with one hand as Cassian began to insult her in every way imaginable. "Do you want to come with me?" she asked her with a hint of hope in her tone, "To talk to Cass maybe? I understand if you don't want to come, maybe you need more time."

But Nesta knew the truth now, and that seemed to be enough, so she nodded and smiled slightly at her. She owed it to Cassian too, to let him explain everything too.

Mor let out a squeak of happiness and then interrupted the list of insults that kept flowing from the phone, "Correction, we will be home in ten minutes."

“Morrigan-”

“Take a shower, we’ll be there in the blink of an eye.”

And then she ended the call without even saying goodbye.

Nesta snorted, "You gave him a heart attack."

Mor smiled at her, clapping her hands, "Do you need to get ready too?"

She looked at her clothes and thought that yes, she should have showered too, but furrowed her brow and grimaced, looking at her, "Actually, I wanted to apologize first. I know what it's like not to have the courage to talk about your problems and I know it must have been hard to talk to me. So thank you and sorry for calling you a cheating bitch."

Mor's eyes went wide, "He never told me-"

"Oh no, he doesn't know, but I felt the need to apologise for that too." she smiled sweetly.

The other burst out laughing and then they stayed at Nesta's for another good half hour, talking about their own terrible experiences with men, shedding a few tears and offering words of comfort only when necessary. They didn't notice how much time had passed until Az called Mor, asking if everything was all right. Overbearing mother hens, the blonde had said once the call had ended, but Nesta had gone to get dressed and now they were going to Cassian's house together.

Something had changed and she no longer felt the urge to slam Morrigan's head against the edge of the table every time she saw her, but things with Cassian would take weeks, months, before they were back to normal.

Or at least she thought so.

Cassian

"Cassian, where did you put... what the fuck are you doing?" asked Azriel as he entered his room.

His head snapped up, only giving his older brother a glance before he returned with his fullest attention to the room. He was running from side to side, tidying up as fast as he could, but with a broken arm, swamped with dirty laundry and cans poised on his fingers, he probably looked crazy now.

"Nesta is on her way here."

Azriel's eyes went so wide that for a moment he thought they were going to pop out of his head, "Meaning what?"

"Meaning that Morrigan," he grunted his friend's full name, wrinkling his nose when he found a pair of dirty underwear under the bed, "went to Nesta's house to talk and now she's bringing her here to-" he threw his arms up, dropping everything he'd picked up and feeling a note of pain in his left, but he didn't pay attention to it, "I don't know what she's bringing her here for, but this house is a mess and I have to shower and tidy everything up and find a way not to go crazy and make her-"

He froze suddenly again, feeling a gag of vomit rise in his throat after the unreasonable evening where they had probably scared Mor with all the alcohol they had ingested.

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair, "How long did she say they'd be here?"

Cassian shook his head, "I have no idea. I stared at the phone for ages after she hung up." he narrowed his eyes. "I need to wash up."

The other nodded, "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll clean up here? Rhys went out this morning and I don't have a clue where he is." he warned him, pushing him towards the bathroom.

Cassian had only grunted a vague reply to him and then gone to get ready and was genuinely shocked when he had come out and the house was actually all clean. He imagined that the two years he'd spent in the house with Rhys had paid off. He remembered how dirty and messy their room had been when they all still lived together.

He was tucking a t-shirt over his head when he heard Mor's ringing laughter followed by Nesta's controlled, but still lovely, laugh. Then Azriel said something else and they both burst into louder laughter and Cassian felt his heart tighten in his chest.

These last few weeks had been devastating.

When Nesta had told him to leave and never return, he'd had no choice.

It had been a matter of deciding between Mor's life and his relationship with Nesta, and as much as he loved her, there would be no way to convince his girlfriend that she had to go, that she couldn't let her friend get beaten up again. Or worse.

When he'd arrived at Kier's house, it had taken all his self-control not to grab the man's head and slam it against the wall and get it over with once and for all.

He'd spent the week after the breakup in bed, eating and only taking care of his body when others reminded him. With a broken arm it had been easy to tell everyone he couldn't do anything about it, but they'd heard him the times he'd cried at night thinking about Nesta and it had been Rhysand who'd told him to call her after ten days. He had simply shaken his head.

He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't drag her back into a relationship where his head wasn't one hundred percent present.

He should have left her long ago, he just didn't have the courage.

He heard Nesta's laughter again and shook his head, now was not the time to think about what had happened in Mor's life. He needed to focus on his own now. He had to at least try.

And if nothing changed, if he couldn't win her back, he owed her an apology, an explanation.

He slipped on the first clean pair of trousers he could find and then, with steps far too fast to seem vague, hurried down the hallway until he found himself standing in front of his brother, his friend and the woman he had been convinced would never leave him.

Her eyes immediately found his and the smile she was wearing instantly dropped when she saw him, but she gave a small nod, "Cass, hi."

He felt something break inside him and his gaze misted over.

Azriel gave a cough then walked towards the door, tying one arm around Mor's and pulling her towards the exit, "We'll leave you two alone, text me later, alright?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer and suddenly Cassian and Nesta were alone.

Alone after all that time.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Nesta lowered her arms along her sides and smiled weakly, "I think we should talk."

He couldn't get the lump in his throat down, so he just nodded, pointing to the living room.

She looked well.

Not well physically, but she seemed to be more relaxed, more at ease than the other day.

Her cheeks were still hollowed out and the dark circles under her eyes so deep that the temptation to ask her if they could go to bed and sleep, cuddled up like they used to, so they could both finally close their eyes for real without regrets and nightmares pulling them from sleep was so high that he felt something crack in his chest again, for the millionth time.

He only wished he could hold her one last time.

When they were both sitting up, mere inches between them, Nesta inspected him as he had inspected her up to that point and saw the way her throat moved when she swallowed air, probably trying not to burst into tears herself.

They must have looked pitiful.

"How are you?" she managed to say, in a weak voice.

Cassian looked at her face some more, deciding whether to lie or not. He took a deep breath before answering, "I've never been worse in my life."

The muscles in her face twitched as she tried to keep her emotions at bay. She nodded softly, shifting her gaze to the unlit television, "I've seen better days too," she murmured, torturing her fingers, "Even before you came into my life I didn't think I could ever be this bad."

"Nes..."

Her eyes closed tightly. Feeling the emotion attached to that single word, her name whispered with that clear desperation.

She tried to change the subject as quickly as she could, "Mor told me everything. Why you ran away every time like someone was holding a gun to your head," she began, getting straight to the point, not wanting to waste any more time. She couldn't look at him though, despite the fact that there was now nothing but truth between them. "It was because it was admittedly life and death situations."

Cassian took a sharp breath, "I shouldn't have-"

"You shouldn't have, no," she interrupted him. "You shouldn't have, and if we had communicated in any way - if you had even tried to explain to me what the hell was going on, you knew. God, you knew, I wouldn't have blamed Morrigan. That I would have offered her a home if I'd known how serious the matter was."

He felt his stomach clench so tightly he thought he was going to throw up.

"I just want to be able to trust you." she whispered after a few moments of silence.

"You can." he replied immediately, "You can." he repeated, trying to convince her.

Nesta looked up at him. She licked her bottom lip, biting into the skin there a moment later and then shifted her gaze to the floor, "I miss you."

Cassian had to swallow a breath before he could speak, "I miss you too."

She said nothing and he continued.

"I miss you every damn second of the day. And at night, when I can't sleep, thinking about you, I stay awake until I pass out from exhaustion." his voice became rougher as he tried not to think about the day they had met, when he had found her asleep on the floor of that filthy library. "And when sleep doesn't come I regret and blame myself for all the wrongs that have happened."

"Every unspoken thing. Every misstep, every broken promise." said Nesta in a trembling voice. When her eyes fixed on him one more time, he no longer knew how to breathe when she murmured, "Cassian you broke me."

And the single tear that rolled down her cheek broke the last whole part of him.

He couldn't stop the instinct when his hand reached up to her face, the tips of his fingers brushing against her cheek and they both sighed, locking gazes.

And in an instant, the second his palm clung completely to her skin and Nesta closed her eyes, reveling in that touch and thrusting against his hand, Cassian felt every broken piece, every splinter and shard of his soul return to its proper place.

"I'm sorry." he said, extending his other hand to cup her face as well. "I'm sorry, for everything. Please forgive me." I love you, Nesta, please forgive me.

And as if she had heard him, she opened her eyes and nodded slightly before they both let go of a breath of relief that still echoed through the room when she launched herself forward, crashing her mouth against his in a desperate kiss that tasted of salt and love.

five years, three months and two days before

When Cassian had invited her on a date, this was definitely not what she had expected. After all, she doubted it was even remotely close to what Cassian himself had expected.

Their second-first date wasn't supposed to take place in a hospital, yet there they were.

Cassian was lying on the bed when Nesta entered the room. A tight bandage around his head was the only sign of the actual blow he had taken when he had carelessly fallen down the stairs in his haste to leave the house.

As soon as he saw her, his mouth split open in a bright smile, "Love..."

Nesta, who had stopped in the doorway and replied with an equally dazzling smile, felt her heart tighten in her chest at that pet name. The morphine they had given him must have kicked in. She took a hesitant step forward, clasping her hands around her bag, "How are you feeling?"

Cassian chuckled, turning to the nurse who had accompanied Nesta all the way there - Gwyneth, she had read on the label attached to her scrubs - before saying, "She cares how I feel."

The flame-haired girl snorted a laugh, "No shit." she said in a mocking tone, this time turning to Nesta.

She had the decency to blush under the nurse's amused eyes. After all, she had come into the emergency room demanding to know what had happened and where he was at that moment.

Gwyneth had been the one to reach her first and tell her everything she needed to know about the physical state of Cassian, who had apparently lied about Nesta being his wife.

The nurse wasn't stupid, and she'd told her as much when she'd realised that neither of them were wearing wedding rings, but seeing how terrified Nesta had been as soon as she'd set foot in the emergency room, she'd turned a blind eye and assured them that after a quick check to make sure Cassian was okay, she'd give them some time alone.

"She cares how I feel," Cassian murmured again, almost not believing the fact that Nesta was there, for him. Then he turned back to her and opened his mouth wide when he realised what she was wearing. He brought his good hand to his chest, over his heart, and whispered, "You are killing me."

"Try not to die while I'm on duty, please," the nurse muttered, before warning them that everything looked fine and that if he passed out they should call her immediately. She walked past Nesta, brushing her shoulder and winking at her, but she hardly noticed.

She only had eyes for Cassian.

When Mor had called her, telling her there had been a little accident, the world had fallen in on her. She'd kept it together until her new found friend had told her that they'd taken Cassian to the hospital by ambulance after he'd passed out from a very hard blow to the head. She'd been vague about how it had happened, but Nesta suspected that Cassian had already been late and had been running down the stairs when he'd fallen.

She certainly wasn't going to ask him tonight, because her non-boyfriend was out of it and completely high on drugs. And the only thing she cared about at that moment was that constant sound of the machines monitoring his heart, assuring her that he was alive, breathing.

The second the door closed behind her, Nesta moved and it wasn't even five minutes before she found herself lying next to him on the bed, her heels forgotten on the floor as Cassian wrapped his good arm around her and intertwined their fingers.

She rested her head on his chest and felt the way his lungs released a sigh of relief at the contact of their bodies. She could feel the beat of his heart, rapid and steady, alive, beneath her fingers.

They weren't saying anything to each other, and Nesta knew there was no need to.

In the end, it had always been like that between them. Their mere companionship was more than enough.

It wasn't until an hour later, when she began to close her eyes, that Cassian moved his other arm up to touch her shoulder, drawing her attention.

She lifted her head enough to rest her chin on his chest, and when she met Cassian's eyes, she smiled faintly at the expression of pure love and devotion that shone on his face.

She saw the way his Adam's apple moved up and then down as he swallowed and the way his eyelids flickered and he hunched his shoulders, wrapping his arms around her body. Before Cassian could speak, she did, "I love you."

And maybe it was the moment, the emotion that had surely both built up in the weeks leading up to their date that had ended in ruin, the sheer desperation and loneliness they had felt in that long month away from each other, but Cassian closed his eyes, nodding softly, "I love you, Nesta."

She leaned higher, stretching her neck towards him and pressing their bodies together until her mouth brushed against his. The kiss was not hasty, not desperate like the emotions racing through their hearts. It was like a window to the future. Their lips moved slowly in harmony, without worry, without urgency in that infinite kiss.

Because they both knew that there would be no one else for the rest of their days and they had all the time in the world to show each other the strong emotions of life. In that moment, they were each other's calm and strength.

When they broke away, it was only because Gwyneth had brought them food. If cherry jelly could be considered food. Either way, they'd been forced to interrupt their make out session to stock up on some sweet, clear edible stuff, which Nesta had devoured like few things in her life. Cassian had left her half of his portion and then they had snuggled back under the covers, talking about this and that, happy just to be both alive in this cruel world.

four years, six months and twenty-one days earlier

"When did you say they were coming?"

Nesta shifted her gaze to Mor's face, who kept her head resting on her thighs while her very long, very smooth legs remained on display against the wall of their living room. The position couldn't have been the best, especially considering the amount of alcohol her friend had swallowed, but the blonde had promised not to vomit on her so Nesta had no choice but to accept her temporary role as a pillow.

She shrugged, taking a sip from her glass, realising that the wine had finished. "They said they'd be here around ten, so any minute now." Mor nodded absentmindedly, toying with a lock of Nesta's hair.

Someone took the glass from her hand and she lifted her head just in time for her lips to collide with Cassian's, who had intended to kiss her on the forehead. They both smiled into the kiss and when he made to pull away to go and refill her glass, Nesta grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back to her mouth, making him laugh.

A cry of disgust came from down between them, "I preferred you when you weren't together."

Without taking his eyes off of Nesta's, Cassian told her to fuck off, adding shortly after, "Remind me who went to Nes' house to beg her to get back with me."

The blonde mumbled something not too nice and Rhys, who sat next to Azriel on the couch opposite to theirs, was about to retort, when the front door rang once and then twice. Az frowned, eyeing Nesta, "They're impatient."

Nesta shrugged again, a gesture she'd begun to pull too often and which Cassian said stemmed from her spending too much time with Mor.

That was going to be the night her sisters would meet her new group of friends from a few months back and Nesta knew it would go smoothly. Elain would be her usual kind and festive self and Feyre would have everyone in that room wrapped around her fingers in a matter of seconds. She didn't have to worry.

Besides, the only opinion she really cared about was her boyfriend's, and Cassian had had a chance to get to know his sisters well before their breakup.

Rhys had gotten up, staggering just enough to go answer the door, but Cassian had already done the honors, and when the youngest of the brothers looked up at the newcomers, he stumbled over his own steps for a completely different reason than the alcohol in his veins.

Feyre Archeron stood at the entrance to the living room in all her beauty. The tight black dress she had chosen to wear showed off everything the younger of the sisters had to offer and Rhysand looked more than ready to pick up every bit of whatever she threw at him.

Elain walked past her with nonchalance, greeting Cassian with a chaste kiss on the cheek, then introducing herself to Azriel and Mor, who had pulled herself up to hold her in a breathless hug.

Nesta felt Feyre's gaze on her and turned to her, waving whimsically. Feyre chuckled, shaking her head, "How much have you had to drink already?"

Nesta would have replied that she didn't know if Rhysand hadn't lunged forward towards her, risking bumping into Cassian, who was returning from the kitchen with a chalice full of wine for her and her sister.

Her boyfriend's eyes went wide, "What the fuck, Rhys, be careful."

But it was as if no one but Feyre existed for the man anymore.

Feyre stepped back, eyeing Cassian and taking the glass with a simple thank you. Az had approached as well, but as he tried to speak, Rhys interrupted him.

"Hello Feyre darling, I'm Rhysand."

Nesta rolled her eyes, just as Mor did beside her, and Elain chuckled.

Meanwhile, Feyre had never seemed so hesitant in her life. Nesta saw the moment she decided to let go and reached out to shake Rhysand's hand. And then Feyre used the voice that Nesta had only ever heard her use when her sister wanted to get something out of the evening and understood perfectly well how it was going to turn out in a few hours. "Feyre, but I assume you already knew that."

The look Rhys gave her and the nod of assent he did made her think that maybe they wouldn't even wait hours, but mere minutes before leaving the party to go find somewhere more secluded.

When the introductions were over, Cassian took a seat next to her, forcibly pushing Mor away until Nesta was clear of everyone else. Circling her shoulders with one arm and pulling her as close to him as possible, Nesta soon found herself sitting on his lap, sipping wine as one of his hands rested on her thigh, massaging circles with his thumb.

Hours passed between board games and indecent jokes exchanged between the younger in the room and Nesta thought she could never be happier than she was in that moment.

Relaxed as she was, it didn't take Nesta long to let herself go completely and when Elain and Azriel also started talking about their partners respectively, sharing funny stories on how they met, she closed her eyes as well, lulled by Cassian's breath on her face and the fleeting kisses he occasionally left on her cheek.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn't find the strength to open hers, and it wasn't until Feyre and Rhys had left and Mor and Azriel had offered Elain a ride that Cassian held her tighter in his arms and carried her to their room, where a bed that had smelled like both of them for two months now remained unmade from that morning's activities.

And though exhaustion was at an all-time high, it wasn't until Cassian lay down behind her, pressing his chest against her back and wrapping himself around her, that sleep finally found them both.

the day

Nesta kept one hand on Cassian's shoulder and the other on his forearm as he rocked her on the dance floor of the venue they had chosen for their wedding.

A few feet away from them, over her husband's shoulder - husband, she was going to have to get used to that title from now on - she could see Elain by the buffet tables laughing carefree as she held onto Lucien, who was laying both hands on her ready-to-burst baby bump, talking to his girls. Nesta smiled as she thought of the countless times she had caught Lucien on his knees entertaining his two unborn twins with conversations about sports.

Moving her gaze to the other side of the runway, she saw Feyre clinging to Rhys, who was surely whispering to her about all the dirty things they could do in the wardrobe of that place judging by her sister's lost and giddy expression.

Trying not to think too much about Feyre in compromising positions, she found Mor and Emerie at the bar, drinking leaning against each other, exchanging jokes that Nesta knew had to do with the outfits of some of their relatives.

A little further on still, Azriel was pirouetting Gwyn so elegantly that she felt a note of jealousy. Az had a faint smile on his lips, but the way his eyes twinkled as he admired her friend's fiery red hair twirling as she spun and spun made her wonder how much longer he was going to wait before he proposed.

She was about to voice her doubts when Cassian's hands lightly squeezed her hips and she shifted her full attention to the man of her life.

Nesta's breath caught for the thousandth time that day when she looked into his eyes.

She raised an eyebrow in question. Cassian smiled, bringing a hand to her face and brushing her cheek, "You look beautiful." he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Her features relaxed and she smiled back, "You're not bad yourself, Mr. Archeron."

Cassian threw his head back, moaning awkwardly and drawing the attention of everyone present. Azriel gave them an amused look and Nesta waved a hand in mid-air, to say it was nothing fancy.

"Mr. Archeron." repeated Cassian, pulling her away from him for a second, as if expecting from that specific dance, only to pull her back against his chest a second later. "If I hear you call me any other name in bed from now on, I might file for divorce."

Nesta chuckled, moving a hand to his chest, "Of course, my love."

His eyes softened even more when they moved back to her face. And Nesta searched his expression for something to tell her that he regretted his decision. That he was lying to her and that in fact the idea of bearing her surname, of being linked to her, repulsed him.

She found nothing that day. Just as she would find nothing in the years to come.

Only adoration and love and respect for the woman she had become thanks to him.

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[twistedanddecayed]

Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are.

Summary: When Dean had walked out on his girlfriend, she’d finally been able to breathe a sigh of relief but that had not stopped her from looking over her shoulder. But moving on from Dean proves to be harder than she thought when he just won’t let her go.

Characters: Demon!Dean x Reader.

Words: 999

Warnings: non-con, knife threat, demonic possession, mentions of an abusive relationship, mentions of cheating. 

A/N: Hi! I’m back from mini unexpected hiatus to bring you my entry for @ne-gans​ “seven deadly sins” challenge. I chose “greed” and though I’d planned something very different for it, this idea took hold and here we are. As the warnings imply, it has a dark theme so don’t read on if this isn’t for you.

_______

Small things haven’t been adding up for a while now, and until tonight, you hadn’t been able to piece it all together until the realization had gripped you by the throat and froze you in place. You’d find certain locations, both familiar and none, with his scent lingering. You knew Dean’s aftershave, the scent of his skin whether it was fresh or after a hunt. You knew the taste of his kiss, his sweat, his cock and dare you even say after more than a few drunken nights, his asshole and oh boy did he know yours.

You knew Dean; his mannerisms, his routine, bad habits – because fuck, he was a bad habit – and all his imperfections. He was all-consuming, he needed it to be that way. He demanded everything from you and took far more than you were capable of giving. The very man who had once kissed and fucked you hard enough to take your breath away with satisfaction had quickly become the very same man who made you hold it in fear.

Coming home to find your bedroom smelling of him combined with the distressed bedding, the smell of sex still heavy in the air had done nothing to you. Once, being greeted with such sight would have broken you but you now wished the only flaw Dean Winchester had was infidelity. Knowing he’d fucked someone else in your bed was easy to handle and an easy truth pill to swallow.

The changes to him that had been so subtle and easy to excuse until you couldn’t. It wasn’t until he’d pinned you against the wall, a knife pressed at your throat while his hand forced its way into the panties you’d have once begged him to rip from you as those beautiful green eyes of his had turned onyx, that you’d finally accepted he’d gone. You couldn’t get Dean back. Sam had been right.

Dean fed off your fear with an insatiable appetite as his own greed to destroy you had devoured him. He thrived off it and the way his lips curved into a grin had you wishing he’d just kill you already rather than continuously toy with you just to see you squirm. You tried not to, seeing him take too much satisfaction from your discomfort but he worked his way under your skin until you cracked. Tiny, invisible cuts that would never fully heal sliced their way over your body with every glance, word and thrust of his hips as his cock hit spots in your cunt that no other man could ever. Tiny, invisible cuts that left you feeling damaged.

Your instincts had been right, as your heart hammers against your chest as you make your way slowly, silently, throughout your home. He was back again from who knows where and you could almost taste your own bitter, tangy fear.

Small hints had began to surface several days ago. A coffee mug you knew you hadn’t left out had smelt of whiskey, when all you had in was vodka. A wet crumpled towel had remained on the floor when you’d obsessively put it into the wash before leaving the house. A smeared handprint under “miss me?” had shown up on the mirror as you’d taken a shower earlier this evening, making you halt in your tracks and reach for your phone to call Sam.

Dean hasn’t been seen for months Y/N. There’s no way he can get through the protection I put on your house. I promise you.

You’d dug your heels in, demanded that he came to check. You’d heard Sam sigh, the two of you had been here before on more occasions than you could count and each time had proven him right and you knew his patience was starting to wear thin. He’d lapsed into silence for a few moments before agreeing to come. It would take a few hours but he’d be there.

You inhale and hold your breath as you glance around each room, flicking the lights on so that you can ensure they’re fully empty; testing the entry points until you’re satisfied that they’re locked. The rug Sam had bought to cover a large symbol on your flooring was still in place. Your eyes linger on that area for more than a few seconds. Your fingers itch to touch the symbol he’d drawn out for you, one of protection that was now inked on your upper thigh in a spot that Dean particularly loved to kiss and later drag his blade lightly over your skin so that you could feel it and see the faint lines of where it marked but not sliced. With it being your only tattoo, it had stung and burnt but you’d felt a sense of empowerment as you’d unconsciously said fuck you.

The hair on the back of your neck stands up as you head back along the hallway. Goosebumps erupt over your skin and for a second, you’re terrified to turn around as just a hint of him fills your nostrils. Your instincts tell you to turn and run - tear open the chains, unbolt the locks on the door and run.

It’s just your mind playing tricks.

It’s just your mind playing tricks.

You force yourself to repeat it like a mantra until you reach the bedroom again, pulling back the duvet and climbing into bed. Your phone lights up as your fingers ghost over it and see a missed call and voicemail from Sam.

Quickly pressing play, you hear his voice fill the bedroom, I’m almost there, maybe less than an hour away. Keep the doors locked, I’ve got a key. You’re going to be ok.

“I’m going to be ok. There’s no-one here. Dean isn’t here. It’s just your mind playing tricks. It’s just your mind playing tricks.” You whisper to yourself, pulling the duvet up to your chin and inhale a shaky breath but not before you hear,

“You forgot to check under the bed.”

[peakyblinderswhore]

req: where a girl runs away from ireland, pregnant and scared and rents a cottage in small heath before accidentally becoming good friends with ada. one day they go to john’s estate and find it in chaos, you go to save michael as he’s still breathing. later on, polly wants to meet me and thank me for everything and this is where they find out about me being pregnant and alone.

a/n: this was initially supposed to be a wattpad exclusive since i was asked on wattpad for this but man, i wrote so much that i think it deserves to be seen on here too. anyway, i hope you enjoy! ps: between me and you, i flaked our at the end and went cliché as per my usual writing.

w/c: 2.8k

warnings: mild abuse (skip past the “keep reading” line and you won’t have to read it)

Somehow, I had managed to catch a boat from Dublin to England. I wasn’t entirely sure where it was headed specifically, I had been much more worried about getting out of here. I’d seen a woman Tuesday evening, she had confirmed my suspicions — I was pregnant.

I carried life and I was overjoyed, until I went home to my husband, bouncing on my toes, waiting to tell him the good news. Initially, I had been ecstatic; that was my first mistake. The second had been talking and the third was for being a whore.

In those moments, my heart shattered. He went out drinking and told me to be gone before he came home. I’m sure he just meant out of the house, to sleep at a friends house for a small amount of time, or something along those lines, but we’d been down this road before. The last time, he had beaten the child out of me. He didn’t know it and it broke my heart even just thinking about the potential it could’ve had.

Of course, I chose the only thing that could guarantee a good life for my child, I fled. First I pulled the house apart looking for every penny in every corner and crevice of the house, then I packed my bag and walked in the shadows to the docks. It was daylight and I hadn’t wanted anyone to see me this way. Upon reaching the boat, it took me all of my grovelling to make it onto the ship. I don’t know if they felt guilty or just wanted me to shut up but they let me on the boat under the promise that I would get off wherever they docked next.

When we docked, I kept my promise, glad to be away from what I called my husband. 

“Where are we, please?” I asked a younger sailor.

“Birmingham, Ma’am. Small Heath, specifically, I believe.”

Nodding at him in thanks, I made my way off, following the small crowd that had emerged from within the ship with me. I had almost no idea where I needed to go. Of course, I had to figure out where I was going to sleep.

Once a week or so had passed, I had found a place to rent with the money I had fled with. I think I must’ve drawn some attention as a woman called Ada took a very quick liking to me. She was present, wherever I went and I was worried at first, possibly paranoid that my husband had sent someone to fetch me or do something about me, but I quickly found out that she had absolutely no idea where I’d washed up from.

She was one of the few things that kept me sane over the coming days. My life was a small mess but she helped me set everything in order again.

“Why?” I muttered to her one day, fed up with everything that I was dealing with that day.

“Because once, I was like you. Pregnant and alone; trust me, it’s not fun nor is it good for the baby, whether it’s been born yet or not,” she diligently replied, walking past me into the cottage I was renting.

For a second, I blubbed like a fish, wondering how she had guessed my pregnancy without me giving her any clues.

She must’ve sensed my confused face staring into her back as she set down some food she had brought over from the market because she carried on, “I know because I’ve been there. It’s the small things that give it away the most because you don’t try to hide them as much — you simply think others won’t notice if you pretend that you don’t either.”

She’d managed to hit the nail on the head, shocking me mostly but also making me think about some of my choices, my presumptions about her and what her family was like or what they thought of her.

“Karl and I,” she began, “well, Tommy wasn’t Karl’s Dad’s biggest fan. I was pregnant before we got married and then when we were married, it didn’t last for long. Freddie… he died. Pestilence got him in the end. All of that fighting for a disease to end it.”

I didn’t quite get what she was talking about for the most part, I’d known her long enough to have met Karl but apart from that I was clueless.

“Ada —”

“Don’t pity me, it was a long time ago.”

I clasped my lips together and abruptly nodded my head as I changed the direction of the conversation, “Shall we go out today?”

“Actually,” Ada said as she stepped away from putting the food away, “I was going to take Karl to visit my brother and his kids. Wouldn’t be bad for the boy to get some fresh air and to see his cousins. I’m sure they’ve been driving John doo-wally.”

Giggling, I say, “Doo-wally?”

Ada rolls her eyes, “Get ready, we’ll be off soon.”

Within the hour, you had set off in a car that Ada borrowed from one of her brothers and I had arrived at John’s estate. Karl had gotten out of the vehicle, eager to be greeted by his cousin's big smiles and playing around with them.

“He seems excited, how long has it been since you last visited?”

“Oh gosh, I don’t think I’ve been since they first…”

Ada’s voice trailed away as we turned a corner, revealing the pools of blood covering the expanse of the patio. Who I assumed to be John’s wife was screaming and crying, barey taking a moment to breathe as tears streamed down her face and blood seeped into her dress, staining it dark.

“Oh fuck,” Ada muttered, still in shock before commanding her body to move towards John, “Esme. Esme, is he alive?”

Ada turns to face me as Esme ignores Ada to continue weeping, “Go to Michael, his chest is still moving!”

I fell to the ground once you reached Michael. Without acknowledging the blood that was dying my skirts and now smudged all over my hands, up to my elbows.

I held his head, “Where? Where does it hurt? There’s blood everywhere; I can’t see where you were shot.”

He weakly pats his abdomen, to which I quickly rip open his suit, popping a few buttons from his shirt when I managed to pull it apart and apply pressure to where it became evident of the hole in his skin. Wincing, he groans and I hurriedly say, “I know, love, this is gonna hurt so much, but I have to stop it from bleeding.”

“I’m calling an ambulance!” 

I nod, not even turning my head to watch Ada, “Karl go inside,” Michael muttered.

I lift my head, having not noticed the boy standing, lifelessly as he watched me and his mother frantically try to fix things.

“Karl, honey,” I whispered, “follow your Mum. Go inside; don’t come back out until after we come and get you together,” he nodded his head silently and walked inside, as if he had been sleep-deprived and stumbled up the steps.

Michael’s head was lolling about, barely conscious at this point. Focusing my attention back on him, I noticed his eyes rolling into the back of his head, “Hey,” I grab his head, pulling it to face me, his eyes were still rolling so I shook his shoulder a little, “don’t go anywhere. They’re so close to being here, don’t make their journey not worth it.”

He manages to avert his attention and put all of his might into focusing on me, “Wow,” he hastily breathes out, “I made it to Heaven, who would’ve thought? Ha, fucking Tommy, eh...”

“Nu-uh,” I slapped his face before forcing him to look at you and sternly said, “Don’t go anywhere.”

He seems rather amused and continues his rambling, “That felt pretty real to me, you Irish angel.”

Stopping for a moment, I was connecting the dots between what he said earlier and what he was muttering now. My face flushed and he whispered, “Wow, all the way to your ears? That’s adorable.”

Suddenly, I was acutely aware of my hands and how bloodied they were, drawing my attention away from his lazy grin. Deciding in my head quickly, I tore off a strip of my skirts to help prevent any more blood loss from his bullet wound when I applied pressure. I wrapped it around my hand twice and let the rest bundle on top of his wound before pressing down to the point where he winced.

“Sorry,” I murmured, “I can’t have it leaking before they get here.”

At that moment, Ada rushes out of the double french doors, “They’re almost here, I’ve been consoling the kids, as Esme gathers herself.”

Slowly I lift my head to see a quivering Esme, looking longingly at John’s body. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what must be going through her head.

“I’ve got Michael for the moment, not much more blood loss and he’s holding up a conversation for the moment,” I glanced over to a scared Karl behind Ada, clutching onto her skirts, “go back inside with the kids; get Esme cleaned up.”

Ada simply nods, suddenly needing someone else to give the orders, she was in shock from the scene we had stumbled upon this afternoon. It would be hard on anyone but it’s more shattering when it’s your brother. Her hair bounces a little, the only movement that suggests she was still breathing, even if she was shaking — scared hadn’t been a look I’d seen on Ada before and you weren’t sure if I ever wanted to see it again.

Until the ambulance arrived, I had continued talking to Michael, keeping him there and making sure he didn’t lose consciousness at any point.

Eventually, they came and took Michael, keeping him alive better than what I could, I hoped. It had taken every last bit of my energy to drag Ada away once Tommy had arrived to sort the rest out. It had felt like he’d surely taken his sweet time turning up; I had no idea who was more distraught, Esme or Ada; it definitely wasn’t Tommy.

I managed to pull Ada and Karl into the car they had borrowed and drove them back to the outskirts of Small Heath, stopping right outside my small cottage, where the fields met the streets. Neither had argued when I woke them up, their tear stained cheeks and bloody clothes sticking to the seats. Despite Ada’s wishes, I pushed them into my bed and took the sofa for the night, acknowledging the fact that they probably needed a better night’s sleep than I did tonight, after everything that had happened.

. . .

Weeks later, everyone had been to John’s burial. It was strange, Ada had insisted that I was to be there as she didn’t want to go alone but I said otherwise.

“It’ll be harder for you if I’m there. I was there that day too, you don’t need another face to remind you of what happened; neither does Esme, the woman has already been through far to much for me to even get into right now,”

Ada’s face had gotten swollen over the days, mostly from crying over and over again, never getting the chance to get it all out before Karl interrupted. I had often tried to distract the boy but on days when I went out to the market to buy food it was hard to control what he did. He didn’t want to go out, sometimes I had successfully managed to drag him away but I couldn’t blame him for wanting to be with his mother so much.

“Karl, is she home?” Ada called, one morning after I’d been out and bought some flowers to liven up the atmosphere a little.

“Yes, she’s home. She’s got pink flowers too.”

Surprised at Ada’s voice, I walk through, “Awake, love? I got some freesias to lighten the room a little.”

Ada smiled, “Polly wants to meet you. And Michael, properly. They want to thank you for that day, for saving Michael… and for trying to save John,” she sniffed, forcing her smile to stay on her face, “Pol’s invited us to afternoon tea today. I was just trying to convince Karl to go with you to the market to buy something nicer to wear.”

“I might have something that I can adjust for him.”

“So you’ll come,” she says, turning her head away from the newspaper that she was reading, “to Polly’s this afternoon?”

Wincing, I reply, “I suppose so. I think it might be good if I got to see Michael the way he is conscious.”

After fussing about for a few hours over sorting something for Karl to wear and making sure you wore something that was fresh, yourself, you had made it to Polly’s townhouse. It was grand, especially compared to the cottage you were renting out. The front garden was neat and had colour coordinated flower beds and a neatly trimmed border that accentuated the pathway that led to the wooden front door.

Upon knocking, Ada had pushed me in front of her so that when the door opened a beautiful, classical lady answered. Instantly her face lit up, she held out her arms, “You, my darling, must be the one who saved my boy’s life,” she pulled me into a hug and engulfed me into her embrace, tightening her grip so as to not let go and whispered, “thank you so much. I only wish we could’ve helped John.”

Carefully, I wrapped my arms around her, and breathed in her homely scent, “Of course, Polly. My deepest regards, I wish I could’ve done more too.”

She pats my back twice and pulls away, holding me at an arm's length, “Pregnant, pretty and a lifesaver. I’m not sure what else we could’ve asked for. Come in, I have some tea ready,” she beckoned us in, stepping aside to allow us to walk into her home.”

She led us through to the sitting room, offered me a seat next to Michael and walked off to fetch a teapot and some cups and saucers for us all.

“Wow, this is she?”

I turn to face him, blushing profusely, “It is she. How are you Michael?”

“Much better thanks to you. Mum says she doesn’t think I would’ve made it without you.”

“I’m sure you would’ve…”

Ada pipes up, “Michael was in a pretty bad state. Polly spoke to the doctors and they said he’d been stabilised at the scene; that was you, love.”

I sat, bewildered by the thought that I had literally stopped someone from dying. Before, it had only been talk and I had let them while they were mourning but now — it was real.

We sat in silence for a moment as Polly walked back in, now carrying a tray full of tea for us all.

“You know,” Michael began, “you’re beautiful. Your baby is going to be so well-looked after and is going to be just as smart and beautiful as you are… I bet your husband is thrilled to have someone like you.”

I let my head fall slightly and ignore as Polly hums in agreeance with her son and I stare at my hands as I fiddle with the sleeve of my dress.

Ada notices the tension I was radiating and quietly states, “She ran away from home because her husband doesn’t want anything to do with her and her to-be baby.”

Polly halts in her position, currently pouring tea into a cup and turns to face us properly, “Excuse me?”

Michael stands from his seat, “What? What kind of idiot doesn’t want something to do with their wife and kid?”

His face slowly distorts and his cheeks redden as the anger boils inside of him, “You saved my life and fucking goddamnit if I let you and your child grow up without a father figure. You saved mine and I want the chance to repay you.”

“Michael —”

“No, love, he’s right. You’re so strong and you’ve made it this far, but we want to help. Nothing will ever repay the fact that you saved Michael’s life but let us try,” Polly says, resting a hand on my shoulder affectionately, her voice running through the room like silk as she softens.

“That’s right. Marry me.”

My eyes widen, “Ah, Michael, I’m not sure that’s necessary.”

“You’ll be shamed if your baby doesn’t have a father,” Polly soothes, “It’s different if you’re a widow but if word gets out, we can’t fight every single fucker who natters on about your personal life.”

“Marry me; I’ll be the father figure for your baby. It’s the least I can do.”

tags: @saintd0lce​ lmk if you want to be tagged! :)

[fgodestinyawakenings]

FGO Destiny Awakenings: Fujimaru Ritsuka and Fujimaru Ritsuko bio

My procrastination on life, writing my story, anything I needed to do is bad enough I’m surfing web day by day so.... Might as well get my ass to work on this

This is pretty long since it’s two people bio, so everything is under the cut! 

Note: In regards to their Magic Circuit quantity, neither FGO wiki or material gives any information about them. I’ve estimated them to be around Emiya Shirou’s level of circuit, but can be lower or higher... But more likely lower as they are only receiving magecraft training in the story

Note 2: Foreign languages in here are courtesy of google translate, if you’re able to improvise its grammar, please drop me an ask so I can edit

Note 3: Some of the info are quite spoilerly but not that much spoiler since it’s a base information for me on their personality, background, magecraft

Note 4: After reading the bio, I know some will be enrage with me at the sensitive topics I’m about to touch for this story. Some are imagination, some are based on what I experience, and I won’t revealed which of what is imagination or experiences in reality. The bio will contain sensitive potential topics such as Depression & Family abuse, you’re entering this at your own risk to read.

Reminder: Yes this is fiction, but you need to separate in from reality. I’m not your babysitter to cater your needs, I have put up 4 notes to remind you of the content you’re entering. And yes, I’ve pacing back and forth on their backstory knowing the backlash I received since this is Fate lore we’re going in out of consideration.

Fujimaru Ritsuka

Character Type: Human, Master, Magus

Affliliation: Chaldea Security Organization

Gender: Male

*Lineage: TBA

Birthday: December 6th

Height: 1.72m

Place of Origin: Japan

Alignment: Lawful Good

Likes: Meeting and getting to know historical figures, Magi*Mari, Reading and Researching about history

Dislikes: Needles

Talents: Stage Magic 

Circuit Quality: D

Circuit Quantity: D

Magic: Projection (Illusion), Hypnosis

Elemental Affinity: Air, particularly closest to Mist

Profile

Background

Ritsuka’s father divorced with his birth mother for unspoken circumstances and remarried to Ritsuko’s mother at the age of 11. At their first meeting, Ritsuka’s body was completely frail with his bones visible in plain view, wearing a dead emotionless face that shocked Ritsuko completely. His family situation was only described to young Ritsuko that Ritsuka’s father is doing everything it takes to ensure his mother will never come near him again.

But after spending more time with his new sister, Ritsuka gained back not only his weight, but his ability to speak, where first happened to yell at her for being reckless in fighting against their bullies. Though, he immediately regretted doing so and apologized afterwards when he knew all she did was to protect him.

Whenever someone brought up about his mom, Ritsuka immediately pushed the subject away to another topic. However when prodded further a little, he’s often described to be showing his real self by a broken look with a heartbreaking smile whenever he mentions about her

Personality

Intelligent, compassionate, self-conscious and rational with a reserved personality holding a snarky mouth, Ritsuka is considered the “brains” and leader to his sister and contracted Servants in their goal to restore humanity  

By many Servants and Chaldea Staff who are Mages, he’s often described as someone “born with a heart that’s unfitting to be a magus”. Ritsuka would often bring his tablet along in each Singularity to inquire and take photos of the historical in each singularity. His scrupulous attention to detail comes in handy when he is off creating strategies to win against the enemies in the Singularity. And his ability to learn magic quickly helps in fasten his pace to be a better Master, but sometimes his answers in avoiding his friends to find out his meeting with Merlin within his dreams leaves others questioning his credibility for his talent. 

Because of his strategic mindset, Ritsuka is highly perceptive to the others' feelings, and can figure out the source of most people's inner turmoil in a matter of a few important conversations.

“The last time someone falls in love with somebody, they had either--created a stepping stone to an illegitimate son to bring his father’s kingdom fall into ruins, trapped themselves forever in a land of utopia or even knocked up with his Master’s sister because why the hell not. No offense to you, Caster.”

-- Ritsuka to his sister while mentioning about Arthur’s, Merlin’s and Cu Chulainn’s love life  

However his lack of experience in love and holding low regards about it from reading tons of historical and mythology books, had made him completely oblivious to his own and other people who had fallen in love with him. Though this is mainly of his own low self-esteem of his own worth as a person may have stemmed from his childhood, despite being considered an ace in everything he does by his sister. Ritsuka usually hide this but immediately quickly putting back up the façade of “a reliable and dependable but also ridiculously goofy person” when someone notice.

Understanding how critical their situation is, Ritsuka often refuse to sit still when there’s a given chance to do anything to help Chaldea. He also seems to get a little annoyed sometimes when people think he's cute or adorable, as he wants to be taken seriously like a grown-up from people around him as at most times Ritsuka is more mature and wiser than others. 

When Ritsuka and Ritsuko are on their adventures in the Singularity, Ritsuka is the one to act as the leader because he is shown to be very brave and smart. He can be very protective of his sister, whenever she is in danger he is always there to help and will do anything to get her free.

It is also well mentioned that unlike his sister whom is open about her problems and sociable, Ritsuka is much more reserved and emotionally distant often avoiding talking about his past and himself. Even though he admired Heroic Spirits greatly and wished to understand them more, some would notice he often forced himself to draw a line from getting too close for some reason. But as the journey goes, Ritsuka has become greatly attached to everyone in Chaldea amd considered them strongly as his secondary family.

With his strong knowledge in history and novels, Ritsuka thinks much like an actual detective.

Despite his serious personality, living with Ritsuko his whole life (who is famous for her silly attitude) has caused him to indulge in childish activities with her. As such often either jokingly teased he’s forced to join with the shenanigans with the Child Servants, or mostly being the butt monkey teasing by them.

He also holds a huge soft spot towards children in particular to Jack and Mordred. When asked why in particular, Ritsuka easily gives his true smile that children like them deserve the love and acknowledgement they needed. But, he does a huge comedic soft spot to Alexandar and Ko-Gil, making his heart thumping when both used their charm while calling him “Onii-chan”.

He also seems to not mind breaking the rules in order to have some fun, which often having him to be scolded by Emiya when he does so. In particular habit is often staying up late or staying over at Romani’s room to watch Magi*Mari.

Abilities

“Merlin: After all, you and I are very similar, Ritsuka-kun. There shouldn’t be a problem for you to learn my tricks. Ritsuka: By similar, if you’re talking about having the same sexual reproductive organs... That’s captain obvious, Merlin.”

-- Ritsuka to Merlin on his first lesson with him

Illusion Magecraft

With his experience in entertainment magic, Merlin had taught him in magecraft of deception and proficiency in Projection. A magecraft that relies on fooling a being’s psyche to win, a magic which Ritsuka concluded only a mage like Merlin befits this magic for his notorious mischievous behavior.

Misdirection

Under the incantation chant “maintenant tu me vois maintenant tu ne”, Ritsuka will fool his enemy thinking that he had disappeared by their five senses. Rather than concealing his presence, Merlin described this spell as “Putting one’s attention focused strongly onto another. Like falling in love at first sight, where your world focus on that person alone!”

This spell Ritsuka commonly mostly to hide himself from enemy, and also additionally do a surprise attack from the back

However due to his quantity and quality of his magic circuits, Servants and enemies with strong sense and Clairvoyance are able to notice his whereabouts.

Projection (Illusion)

Unlike Emiya’s projection, Ritsuka’s projection creates objects based on his memories and imagination. A skill he’s able to do easily as though it’s strangely natural from his muscle memories, he currently lacks the learning to reinforce his projected works to a reality

Under Merlin’s teachings, Ritsuka is able to create an illusion of manipulating to fool his enemies five senses during battle. But, it may not work if one is able to see through eventually  

To perform this magecraft, he need to act/pretend of an action in order to project the desired item from his mind into reality. However because it’s like an illusion, not only it lasted for seconds to minutes, that item may not even appeared in his enemy vision if the latter noticed the truth.

Combat

Even if magic circuits is weak, Ritsuka makes it up by physical combat via kendo. In combat, Ritsuka will give commands to his Servants while fighting against the lower mobs summoned by enemy Servants. Lacking any fear towards death, Ritsuka won’t hesitate to step forward to deal against enemy Servants if needed to buy some time for his allies Servant to summon their Noble Phantasm

As such even facing against a professional magus, Ritsuka treats it as an experiment test nearly at the cost of his own life to find a weakness within them.

Role

Ritsuka acts both support and fights with their Servants in Chaldea. He has no specific Servant in mind as being dragged into the World of Magus. Ritsuka admired all Heroic Spirits, often near instantly switched into his fanboy mode when meeting those he admired. 

While he enjoys their company and wishes to personally know each of them better, he does get exasperated by some of the extremely colorful and chaotic Servants summoned in Chaldea.

But, Ritsuka instantly draws a line between him and the Servants from getting to close by often avoiding talking about himself and his own true feelings. Despite making himself distant from them, he cares a great deal about them and strongly hated the idea of treating them and anyone as tools or weapons to use.

Unlike his sister, he’s the one who supplies mana generally to most of the Servants via a technique Merlin taught him when he requested earnestly for his help.

Fujimaru Ritsuko

Character Type: Human, Master, Magus 

Affliliation: Chaldea Security Organization 

Gender: Female

Lineage: TBA

Birthday: May 29th

Height: 1.58m

Alignment: Lawful Good

Likes: Sports (mainly excel in softball and basketball), Morning workout as early as 4am, Sweets

Dislikes: Studying through reading of books, Anyone who hurts her brother and even attempting to bring up his family problems, House chores

Talents: Accuracy in throwing and quick learning speed taught via hands-on

Circuit Quality: D+

Circuit Quantity: D+

Magic: Nine Hand Seal Magecraft

Elemental Affinity: Fire

Profile

Background

Ritsuko mentions to Mash in Fuyuki Singulary Section 9 Part 1 that her real father disappeared on both her mother and her when she was a baby for reasons unknown. As such, it’s noted her mother has been raising her single-handedly by herself before remarrying Ritsuka’s father when she was 10.

At their first meeting, Ritsuko was completely horrified at Ritsuka’s body was completely frail with his bones visible in plain view, wearing a dead emotionless face that barely even respond to her when she first greeting him warmly. His family situation was only described to young Ritsuko when she asked was that Ritsuka’s father is doing everything it takes to ensure his mother will never come near him again, and will only explain to her when she grew older.

She mentioned though he was quiet, he was still receptive if not hesitant in answering to her. But after spending more time with his new sister, Ritsuka gained back not only his weight, but his ability to speak mainly to yell at her for being reckless in fighting against her bullies. Though at that time, Ritsuko chuckled she was unsure why she was crying while he apologized; whether it was the bullies, her brother scolded her, or the happiness she felt when she saw life in her brother’s eyes after months of wondering if the effort was futile to get closer to her new older brother. 

Personality

On the surface, Ritsuko is fierce, independent, and pugnacious, but beneath her tough exterior, she possesses a strong loyalty toward her friends and duty as the Humanity’s last Master with her brother. She also has an admirable compassion and devotion, demonstrated when she expresses love toward things such as her family and friends. Unlike the calmer and reserved Ritsuka, Ritsuko is similarly quick witted and impulsive, especially in heated situations. And, she lacked perception towards her rash decisions often resulted in her accidentally insulting others.

Ritsuko is tough, impatient, headstrong, sarcastic, and assertive. Due to her crush on Mash, she tends to pull her away and shield her from others who showed interest in her. Like her brother, Ritsuko fully embraced her position as the Humanity’s Last Master, but lamenting her weakness how she isn’t calm and level-headed as her brother. A trait of Ritsuka she admires greatly when they were kids, as she’ll always be grateful during the times she was in near trouble. Mainly Ritsuka’s willingness and accepting of her secret towards her interest in woman, as she didn’t want her mother to know out of fear of disappointing her.

Because of this, Ritsuko also tends to be protective and even more so than her brother when it comes to his own well-being. Her mother never told anything about Ritsuka’s parents, except as she quoted: 

“Mom said I was too young understand. Telling me Ritsuka’s mom did something really bad to him so Dad ensured his mom will never come close to meet Ritsuka again.”

As such, Ritsuko often keeps an eye on Ritsuka’s reaction whenever someone asks about his mom; ready to deflect or even pull him away at the uncomfortable situation.

Initially frightened and frozen with fear at Fuyuki Singularity, Ritsuko lamented with regret greatly how if her strength to save Mash from Artoria Alter’s Noble Phantasm could do the same for Olga Marie. But, she knew better she can’t wallow in grief, vowing to grow stronger and requested Emiya’s and Sadakuni’s aid to train her in combat and magecraft respectively.

Abilities

"Boomer-Dagger”

A pair of dagger crafted specially by Emiya after considering her skillset. It can be used for both physical combat and her magecraft. When thrown to her enemies, it returns to her via an invisible string connecting to her magic circuit. Also, it’s used as a placeholder on her talisman before conjuring her Nine Hand Seal Mudra Magecraft

Talisman

Her catalyst to invoke with her magecraft. Taught by Sadakuni, she needs to place it on her target before doing her Mudras to attack her opponent. Ritsuko often brings her mat of magic circle drawn by her blood to imbued powers into the talisman daily through meditation.

Onmyoudo Kuji-in aka Nine Hand Seals Magecraft

Taught by Section Chief Agano Sadakuni, Ritsuko mainly uses this magecraft for combat. This magecraft relies specifically on specific hand gesture and pattern to conjure her spells. From reinforcing her weapon and physical strength, to summoning fire magic for combat

Rin-Pyo-Toh, ready for battle: Enhancing her physical strength

Kai-Jin-Retsu, release: Conjure an explosion burst of flames

Jin-Pyo-Zai, bind: With ranged of 10 talisman connected by a burning magical rope to bind the target

Zai-Sha-Kai, heal: Transfer her mana for healing or empowering her Servant

Combat

Like her brother despite having slighter better circuits than him, Ritsuko sides along with her brother via physical combat. She often pairs with her brother, acting as a bait to go against the enemy, while Ritsuka pulls off a surprise ambush via his illusion magecraft.

In the face of an enemy Servant, Ritsuko steps back to give orders to the Servant she contracted with.

Role

While she treats Servants who are Kings or Queen with respect by their title, Ritsuko treats everyone equally with respect and as a friend. She’s shown to be more than willing to teach them about the modern technology and slang, also joining them in their crazy plans often resulted in chaotic humor, much to Ritsuka’s chagrin.

Like her brother, Ritsuko detested the idea of anyone treating Servants as tools or weapons as she view those who contracted her as their friend. This feeling also extend to her enemy Servant, believing they are living beings with their own free will and emotions.

While her brother generally supplies mana to their Servants, Ritsuko acts second-in-charge right after he finish mana transferring to their Servant which resulted him immobile and carried around by Emiya or Caster Cu Chulainn.

[lost-tanuki-whump]

Hostage Situation - Part 2c

Prompt Challenge: Hanging by the wrists, Rescue Cast: The Disaster Five Word count: 2.4k

* * *

Leonida didn't have perfect knowledge of the area they were in but decided that she could allow herself to slow down after running in a straight line for over an hour. They were in the middle of nowhere. She'd expected as much, Gren and her had had to walk a long time before finding the building. Their surroundings right now were made up of boulders and rocks and mostly felled trees. It took her a while to find a good shelter for Arkady, because the first she came across was a huge burrow and she wasn't sure what kind of animal she'd have to wrestle out of there, and it definitely wasn't worth the risk of getting her human crewmate involved when he was barely awake. She eventually stopped upon finding a natural pit in the earth beneath the rocky overhang of a boulder that was three times her height. All she'd need was to roll over two thinner slabs of rock and it'd be good against bad weather. Maybe she'd fine a third one to hide them. That would be good.

First things first, however. Leonida crouched in the dirt and pulled Arkady down from her shoulders to lay him in the earth. His blue eyes stared straight ahead and never once alighted on her face, and he didn't stay laid out on the ground the way she'd lowered him there; instead his body slowly curled up in a foetal position like a dying bug, small and tight the way she'd found him in the chest. His dirty hair stuck in clumps againt his wet forehead, long enough now that it nearly reached his eyebrows. He was wet and shivering and his dislocated arm hung uselessly down his flank. The rain had washed out most of the dried blood and where it wasn't dark from bruises or red from open wounds, Arkady's skin was paler than usual. His dark freckles stood out across the bridge of his nose even in the ebbing daylight. Leo noticed that his cheekbones were sharper. He looked sick.

"Arkady," she firmly said. He didn't react.

There was that nasty stab wound at his shoulder from the day before that was still seeping blood, and Leo remembered he'd been laying on his bad side when she'd found him in the chest. Fucking assholes hadn't even been careful about that. Or maybe it had been intentional. Leonida felt her anger rise and forced herself to focus. There was another wound all the way across his back that looked older, more superficial, and it was red and puckered. Leonida remembered he'd gotten that one about a week ago. The rest of the cuts and bruises littering his body seemed to have been healing all right- as well as they could have in those conditions. She laid her hand on his shoulder to turn him over and he resisted, his breaths coming in rapid forced bursts, still staring ahead.

"Okay," quietly said Leo.

She couldn't see any serious wounds on his front from her vantage point, but there was a one somewhere on his body that had stained her suit and she needed to find it.

"I'm going to feel for wounds."

She didn't wait for his assent because she knew she wasn't going to get anything from him in his state. Leonida slipped her hand under his flank and ran it from his hip to his armpit in search of an opening. Arkady shuddered violently when the heel of her palm brushed against one of his thick, jagged scars.

"Hey, it's okay, it's just me. I already know."

He'd started shaking more than before and wouldn't stop. Leonida kept going, there was no point in stopping just because he was having an automatic fear response. All she felt was the way his ribs stood out. She guessed that he hadn't been fed more than she had, and though Leo had refused everything that had been given to her, Arkady would have had no choice but to accept the small piece of bread and the shallow bowl of water. She wasn't that surprised that he hadn't been able to stand after spending a month on that diet and going through all that abuse for two weeks.

Leonida searched some more and finally found a deep cut right below his right collarbone. Her fingertips came away wet with blood and she could see thick pale liquid glistening there as well. She made a face. It had felt swollen and hot, nothing good ever came of that.

Leonida finished her check-up to make sure there weren't worse injuries and decided she'd have to start with the arm. There was a risk of nerve and muscle damage after leaving it dislocated for too long, especially since Arkady had been hung up by his wrists several times for beatings which had likely fragilized his shoulders, and if the damage became chronic no healing pod would be able to fix that. Leo scooted to the side, lifted a leg over his body to immobilize Arkady's shoulder with one foot and grabbed his wrist with her good hand, and didn't warn him before abruptly tugging and twisting his arm back in his shoulder.

Arkady shouted in pain and his arm jerked out of her grasp, and Leo lost her balance trying to get off of him as fast as she could. Her ass hit the dirt while Arkady hid his face behind his arms, starting to beg again just like he had when she'd found him in the chest.

"Proshu, pozhaluysta, ne nado," his voice broke on a sob, "ya umolyayu tebya, ne delay etogo... Ya nichego ne znayu, poetomu, pozhaluysta, ya tebya umolyayu...!"

Leonida knew jack shit about Russian. She only knew that Arkady sounded miserable and desperate and it hurt to see him this way. Leonida quickly got back to her knees to lean closer to Arkady.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, it's me. It's Leo." She gently touched his hand and he violently flinched away, but she didn't take her fingers away from his icy skin. "Leonida Trust, remember? Your captain? You think I'm really annoying."

Still shuddering, Arkady slowly angled his face towards her. His blue eyes were wide and distant, eyebrows pinched in terror.

"Ya umolyayu tebya-"

"I don't know what that means, Arkady," softly said Leo over his pleading. "But I can tell you you're safe here. It's just me and you."

He fell silent and continued staring at her as if waiting for the next blow, cheeks wet from his silent crying. Leo wasn't sure he'd really understood. She'd rarely seen anyone so traumatized in her life and that was saying something. It made something heavy and cold weigh deep inside of her to know that they'd been making Arkady this way while she was only a few rooms over. She took a deep breath to calm herself and then tried to wipe the man's tears away.

He recoiled again and immediately started begging: "Proshu, pozhaluysta-"

"Okay, okay," she quickly said and retrieved her hand. "Not your face. See? Not your face."

Arkady went silent again, his breathing just as unsteady as the rest of him, and continued gazing at her the way she imagined a hunted animal would.

"God... They really messed you up, didn't they," she murmured. "Can you speak English? Do you think you can speak English for me, Arkady?"

He didn't answer. She waited. After too long had passed, Arkady's unfocused gaze started drifting away from her face.

Leo leaned in. "Arkady? Can you say something in English?"

He didn't react, and just like that, he was gone again.

Leonida had seen this in soldiers she'd had to rescue from torture before. Sometimes they were perfectly conscious and awake even after months of nonstop abuse and turned out erratic, angry, scared, or all of the above; sometimes they had to be carried out because they were catatonic just like Arkady had been. Some cracked after a year, others after a week. Mostly, it depended on the kind of shit they'd already had to go through before and whether or not the individual was the "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" type. Leo wasn't sure exactly where Arkady was situated on that spectrum, but from the things she'd noticed while living with him over the last months, he was definitely more brittle than the average soldier in their twenties. In the end, it wasn't that surprising to her that their captors had succeeded in breaking him.

Leonida stared at her second in defeat. Getting him to talk to her wasn't the main objective for now, she had to tend to the rest of his wounds. She went to kneel next to his shoulder and sifted through the health protocols she'd been taught, and made one of her chest compartiments draw back to take out desinfectant and antibiotic solutions. She couldn't be sure that it was signs of systemic infection he was displaying with his shivering and confusion, even if it could've been only psychological and because of the cold, but she wasn't willing to wait for a fever to break out.

Leonida quickly rubbed desinfectant into his wounds and then tried to make him drink the antibiotic. She'd half-feared that he wouldn't react and she'd have to force him somehow, but as soon as Arkady felt a drop of moisture settle on his cracked lips, his tongue automatically swiped at it and sought out more of the liquid. Leonida was able to simply hold the small plastic bottle in place while Arkady mindlessly drank.

When there was no more left, Leo retrieved the empty bottle and felt guilty when Arkady tried to go after it. Hopefully this behavior meant he'd accept solids too. Leo quickly produced a box of painkillers and pushed one out of its blister to gently shove it in Arkady's mouth. He eagerly swallowed that, too, and then his teeth grazed against Leo's fingers when he tried to find more to eat.

"Sorry, Arkady," she told him as she pulled her hand away. This felt like feeding an animal and it felt horribly wrong. She hated to see the cynical, grumpy technician she'd been trying to befriend reduced to this state. Leo had a feeling Arkady would hate it too, when he came back from this and remembered.

She needed to get him food and water but she didn't even have anything to collect rain. She needed to get him clean clothes, too, and something to sleep in. She'd have to start with making the shelter better protected from the elements of nature and make a fire. He'd survive no matter the conditions as long as she found him food and water soon, but Leo wasn't willing to see his recovery drag because he was cold and half-naked. She hoped that clothes and a warm sleeping bag would help him feel safer, too, and that maybe it would fix what was wrong with his mind. There was no way she could risk going back to the ship when she wasn't sure to have killed all of the hunters in that building, so she'd have to find supplies in the nearest town. Until then, they'd be stuck as they were.

Leo knew she wouldn't be able to allow Arkady as much rest as he needed because they had an opiel to save, too.

Leonida got up and stepped out from beneath the rocky overhang to get what she needed for a better shelter. She didn't go far and never let Arkady out of her sight for more than a few short moments at a time. After half and hour she'd rolled a smaller, blocky boulder to one side and a broken slab of layered rock on the other. It was very crude and left drafts of winds coming in from three places at once but at least Arkady would be hidden in there.

Leonida had wanted to find foliage to cover him with but only found damp pieces of wood; what this place made up for in abundance of rocks, it lacked in any kind of plants. She gathered enough thick branches to ensure a lasting campfire and hurried back to Arkady, dropping it all next to him and then proceeding to gather stones to delimit a zone on the ground in a circle. Leonida piled everything at its center and picked up the two sharp rocks she'd selected to start the fire. Rubbing them together with enough force to produce a spark was a piece of cake for her, getting the damp wood to catch on fire was not.

It took a while, and when it did finally catch on Leonida had to spend twenty minutes waving all the smoke away from Arkady while the wood dried out in the flames. She noticed that Arkady had dug his fingers in the soil at some point and Leo hoped that meant he was getting his bearings. Leo surveyed the fire for a little bit and once she was sure it was strong and steady enough that it wouldn't go out too early on its own, she turned to Arkady and carefully laid her fingers on the back of his hand. He didn't move, but she was satisfied to see that his skin was getting a bit warmer.

"You should sleep, Arkady. It's safe now."

Arkady's empty blue eyes had stayed open the whole time, if only closing to blink from time to time, and his tears weren't flowing anymore. Leo wondered if he'd been kept in that chest after every beating. If they'd somehow figured him out and used his claustrophobia against him to push him over the edge. If his blindfold had always been as damp with tears as when she'd pulled it away, and she just hadn't been able to see it on the grainy quality of the surveillance feed that she'd been shown. Leonida pushed the thoughts away for later, for whenever Arkady would be able to tell her.

"If you could come back in the morning, that would be really nice. It's lonely when you're not grumbling."

He didn't show any sign that he'd heard her. Leo stayed crouched before him in the same position for a while then eventually shifted on her feet to go lay down at his back, carefully keeping a few inches of distance between Arkady's ruined skin and the front of her suit. Leonida didn't emit as much heat as humans did and she briefly thought about the way J complained in winter because the material of her suit got cold. Right now it was warmed from tending to the fire, and she was at least preventing Arkady's back from being exposed to the chill of the windy drafts.

"I hope you're closing your eyes," she told the back of Arkady's head.

He didn't answer, of course, didn't even twitch as his curled-up body continued its steadfast trembling.

Leonida herself stayed awake through yet another night.

[chirpycreations]

How Villians Sleep At Night Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: This story will NOT be my usual happy, bit of violence sorta thing. It will contain some mature themes and language. I don't mean Undertale genocide mature either. I mean abuse, manipulation, depression, low-self-esteem and possibly suicidal thoughts (I'll clarify this list as I work on the story). This isn't something I'd let my 12-year-old sister read so if you're under 14 I probably wouldn't recommend it.

Alrighty, with that out the way, happy reading!

- - - - - - -- -

Cold, windy and cold. The light snow began its descent, its final journey, landing down on his nose and everything around. Drawn like a magnet, he felt his hand jump outwards, catching one of these fallen angels, only for it to dissipate in a matter of seconds.

He paused a few meters from the door, turning back to the tall building which loomed over him. He must look different from when he arrived. His body felt chocked by the bandages around him. Ribcage, vertebrae and skull, left arm laying lazily in a sling. It wasn’t just his recent addition of battle scars and bruises those. His clothes, or more accurately, now his clothes. Donated to him by a friend. They were too small, too tight, too familiar. Sleeves of the tired blue hoodie just surpassing his elbows, trousseaus mimicking shorts, and pink fluffy slipper which, judging by their size must have once belonged to his friends older brother.

The wind wrapped around him as if in a hug to congratulate, or was it to comfort? Both would be appropriate given the events that had passed.

Regardless of its intent, he pulled the scarf up to his nose, covering up the sensitive bone beneath. It was still raw from only having been recently reintroduced to the world that lies around it. A world much colder than the one he had known 4 weeks prior, and for more reasons than just the winter chill, gesturing its commiserations.

He found himself drawn out from these thoughts by the moaning of the snow behind. Crunch, crush, crumble. The snow settled under the weight of the oppressive foot.

He didn’t need to face its domineering owner to know who was approaching. The sigh of heavy boots and ragged breaths. He’d come to know them well.

“I am guessing you did not come to congratulate me on getting out of the Hospital?” His voice was coarse, rusted form lack of use over these last 4 weeks. Those in his defence, he had spent the last 3 weeks asleep and the option to practice such activities had not been appealing this last week, despite his visitors who had shown no such hesitation.

“That’d be correct.” The voice replied, his usual grim tone clouding over.

He could picture the cowboy standing there in the snow. His thick brown jacket, heavy boots and purple scarf, no doubt pulled up high like his own. Yellow beady eyes, peering through the falling snow. The only thing which could penetrate it was the scar running through his left socket. Two lines were torn deep into the bone like a knife through a cloth, jagged edges jumping out at those who dared ask the question; How?

He held onto these images just a little longer. He didn’t want to face him: Judge, jury and executioner. Didn’t want to break the illusion, see the bullet, the disappointment, hate and pity which followed in his final moment. Not now, not from him. Not a reminder of how far he’d fallen. How much he had failed everyone. Them. Himself. Not now, not yet.

The judge let another ragged breath escaped into the wind, then spoke again, his voice still harsh, “We need to talk.”

He almost laughed: Predictable.

He’d imagined this meeting over the last week, dreaded it.

Each time he imagined this outcome, each time only worse. The path so far smiled in his favour, but was it actually kindness? Or the sympathy of fate while deciding which hand to deal him next?

“I expected you would say that. Maybe somewhere a little warmer? I know a suitable spot.”

- - - -

The change of scenery was nice. He had seen too much white: White walls, white snow, white dust. It all blended together after a while. Instead, the calm beat of rain sang out drowning these thoughts; drip, drop, plop. The soft squelch of moss beneath his shoes and cool blue glow of flora. A welcomed change.

He sat on the lone bench, once home to an abandoned quiche to which he believed was adopted by Frisk some months earlier during their last run. A last bid to make their wrongs right? He couldn’t help the bitter smile that came with the thought. They had been the same all along, hadn’t they?

“Alright, let's get this shit over with. I’ve got better things to be doing than dealing with the fucking mess ya’ve made me, bless yar heart.”

The judge; to whom he’d come to know as Apollo, Wayne or his more commonly called name: Justice, over the last 5 months was the same as always. Grumpy, ill-tempered and foul-mouthed. Not knowing better, you’d think it was any other ordinary day. Paperwork, lack of sleep or maybe Squirrel might have contributed to the slight dip in mood, but otherwise, you wouldn’t think different. He knew different. He knew it was his fault.

Justice had taken to standing in front of him. He’d pulled out a dictaphone, notepad and pen. Bad cop, good cop? No, there was only one of him. He didn’t see Sarge or Chara, so obviously he’d been decided as an ‘easy’ case to deal with. Even so, it didn’t feel much like an interrogation.  For anyone else, Justice would tower over them like a mighty dictator, interjecting fear and obedience. Then like a master surgeon he would dissect them for his answers. For him, however, the same was hard to say. Even while slouching, his lanky body continued to meekly rise above the judge, even if by only a few centimetres.

The situation felt a little... uncomfortable, but not more than that.

The dictaphone clanks as Justice sat it down on the bench. A bone finger reached out and pressed ‘Record’.

That's it then. No more hiding, no more delays. The inedible was always going to happen. He could only stall for so long.

“Interview #597883. Interviewing S-"

“Hoshi”

His interruption was met with silence, annoyance and confusion. For this story, he is ‘Hoshi’.

Was.

“...Interviewing ‘Hoshi’.” Justice finished his annoyance still very present. Strike one, maybe?

“For future review, this interview will be documented. All information discussed will be kept confidential and on a need ta know bases with only those holding clearance.” The note pad was empty. Did he really know all this off the top of his head? How long had he been doing this?

“You will answer all questions given to you, with nothin’ but the truth and will not withhold any information regardless of its contents. Should ya be found to be lying or withholding anything, then all evidence for your case will be rendered void. Do you understand?”

Tap,

Tap,

Tap.

Hoshi rushed into an answered upon noticing the impatient pen's rhythm upon the paper. “Yes...s-sir.”

“Justice'll do.”

The silence was his reply, a slight nod of the head.

“Look, I ain’t gonna sugar coat this for ya. You’re in some deep shit here and really fucked up. I don’t think I have ‘ta tell ya how serious the charges you’re looking at are.” He paused, taking a breath, or was it a sigh?

“Endangering the life of a Creator & leaking sensitive information regarding the Bar & it’s Patrons to an unknown 3rd party is pretty fuckin’ serious, and should’a already contributed to 4 accounts of sansicide on you’re head if it wasn’t for sheer fucking luck.”

“That being said,” He added after a moment,

“You did speak out about it and put your life on the line to take the brunt of the consequences (, even if a little late).” He mumbled the latter half, scowling down on the words as if their existence in that order should sentence them to a fate far worse than his own.

“While try’na throw your life away is fucking dumb and won’t fix what you’ve done...myself, Z-Stars and other agreed ya deserve a chance. As well as the numerous vouches towards your character we received, evidence collected would suggest possible fowl play to some extent. Whether this is true or not, I intend to find out.”

How had he gotten here? Everything was going so well. Everything was going according to plan. It was simple enough. Fool proof. 'Hoshi proof', Shadow had even teased him often enough. If any common fool could do it, he would be fine. He couldn't fail.

But still...

- - - - -

"Que se passera-t-il si cela ne fonctionne pas?"

("What shall happen if this does not work?") He asked. He'd felt the fear call at him through the fog of his mind. It's worrying pleas, he could barely make them out, but it seemed logical to respond to them. By responding to them, they would leave. He'd be alone again with the fog. The nothingness. It had grown on him, the emptiness inside.

"Je suppose que ça dépend de la façon beaucoup don't vous voulez rentrer à la maison, n'est-ce pas?"

("I guess it depends on how much you want to get home, doesn't it?") His Shadow replied, in broken french.

Unlike him, his Shadow wasn't native to his tongue. Despite this, however, Shadow had insisted they use his tongue to communicate. His language was less common than English. It meant they had more privacy, 3.29 times more to be precise, and as a bonus, their target also didn't speak it.

"Tu t'inquiètes trop. Je serai là si tu gâches. Maintenant préparez-vous, ça ne devrait pas être trop long maintenant."

("You worry too much. I'll be there if you mess up. Now get ready, it shouldn't be too long now.") Where was he now then? Why wasn't he by his side? Whispering flattery... advice... encouragement...like he'd always done. Telling him how stupid and pathetic he was, how he couldn't do anything, wouldn't be anything.

Apart of him wished he could tell him he was right... again.

"D-d'accord. Merci mon amie."

("O-ok. Thank you my friend.")

- - - - -

A hand waved in front of him, ending its journey with a flick on his nose. He blinked hard twice looking up and meeting the angry gaze. Ah right, he was still here.

“You’ve got one chance ‘Hoshi’. The truth or I can make a start on locking yar ass up for eternity so I can get some brain bleach and drink the rest of this fucking nightmare away.”

"..."

“Choice’s yar’s really, but ya should know a lot’a folks stepped forward to vouch for ya. It’d be a shame to reject their forgiveness ‘cause it ain’t often you make friends like ‘em who’re willing ta stick by your side no matter what.”

It took a moment for Hoshi to find the right words. He’d know his decision since he’d first awakened.

“Where would you like me to start?”

A weight placed its self upon his shoulder: a hand. It stayed for a moment, lifting and coming back down with a pat. The judge had a smile projected onto his face, it couldn’t have been his own. In all the time he’d know him, he’d never truly smiled (unless sarcastic of course). Maybe he was seeing things? After all his left eye was still tucked away under bandages, deemed too damaged to face the elements.

“That’s the spirit, boy.” No, the smile was real.

He let his eye drift upwards, meeting Justice's almost unnatural gaze. Too kind and gentle, too out of character. If anything, the uncanny expression on his face made him feel even more uncomfortable than the whole integration.

The weight removed it’s self completely,

“The begging. Include all the details ya can remember. We need ta know who we’re fuckin’ deal with cause whoever these folks are, they’ve already made it pretty fuckin’ obvious they mean business.”

“I-I...I am sorry.”

“I know.”

They remained in silence for a minute, nothing more could be said: The damage has been done. All they could do now was pick up the pieces and hope there was enough glue left to save the situation from shattering further.

“Let’s make a start kid, somehow I doubt this’ll be quick.” He flipped his pen around. It stood at attention, ready to follow his every command.

“O-ok.”

This is it, then: the true story.

It was so long ago, so many things had happened since then. Could he even remember how it started? How it happen? But then again, the better question was how much would he let himself remember? He’d tried so hard to bury it, pretend the illusion was real, fight back the pain, the tears, late at night when white lies clawed at him. Slowly digging themselves up from the shallow graves he’d hastily buried them in.

He preferred the illusion. It had a happy ending.

Was going to, at least...

Was heading that way before the events of one month ago.

The incident.

His ultimate failure.

His betrayal...

He smiled meekly, he...he was a terrible person. He knew that much was certin. No.

A mess, not a person. A mess of lies, illusions and shredded memories. That was a different story, however. Maybe he would get to tell that story one day too. But till then... this is the story of Hoshi, Sans.

His story.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Cover & Chapter 1 art

[TOSD] How Villians Sleep At Night by me 

Justice Sans by Vangold 

[smcc212]

Damaged Goods- Part 4

Warnings- fluff, SMUT- P in V, praise kink kinda, Mentions of past abuse, swearing cause Negan, duh

Word count- 1,350

A/N- HoLy FuCk this has taken way too fucking long to upload. I’m sorry, I’m a fucking idiot. I hope you enjoy this, there will be a part 5. I give you my word. Let me know if you wanna be tagged when I upload in the future, If you only want to be tagged for certain types of fics, let me know what kind. Anyway, enjoy! Xo

Read the first part here, the second here and the third here.

You rolled onto your side, stretching as you looked around the room for Negan. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this happy in the morning, or at any time of the day. You couldn’t  Negan anywhere. You started to panic as you got up and got dressed. You carefully walked down the stairs. Someone was in the kitchen. You crept into the kitchen and saw Negan had made coffee. He turned to look at you.

“Morning, sexy,” Negan drawled as you remembered the fun night before. “I made you coffee.”

“Thanks, handsome.” You smiled sitting down next to him. You were still a little sore after last night. It had been a while since you you’d sex you actually enjoyed, you just put up with it when you were with Mark.

“How was your sleep?” Negan asked, taking a sip of coffee.

“Great, you?”

“Fine.” He shook his head. “You ready to go back? I am the leader and I just up and left,” He chuckled as you drank your coffee.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll finish our coffee then go back,” You murmured.

“Cool, c’mere,” Negan said standing up and walking to the fireplace, you followed along behind him. He had lit the fire after he got up and was just adding a few new logs. You walked and to him and captured him in a longing kiss. He kissed you back using his foot to push the coffee table towards the sofa so you two would have room. His hands wandered over your body, lifting your top-up over your head before he took off his smooth leather jacket and his t-shirt. Your eyes roamed over his body, taking in his masculine figure. Tanned and toned. You reached for his belt, undoing it and unzipping his jeans. He grabbed your hands and pushed them back before he worked on undressing you. Once you were naked he followed he followed pursuit. You got on your knees in front of him but he stopped you.

“What’s wrong?” You frowned upset at him stopping you.

“I won’t last thirty seconds in your mouth,” He said nonchalantly.

“Oh, okay,” You mumbled as he gently pushed you onto your back. He climbed on top of you, kissing down your neck and collarbone. His throbbing cock rubbing against your clit. He carefully inched his way inside of you; giving you time to adjust to him. As he moved back and forth he captured your nipple in his mouth. Sucking on it, swirling his tongue around it. You arched your back, moans falling out of your mouth. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening and tightening until it finally snapped. The pleasure rushing through your body. You screamed in ecstasy and Negan followed in pursuit, groans and curses spilling out of his mouth. He filled you up with his thick, white, sticky come.

“God-fucking-damn, baby!” Negan shouted lying down next to you. “That was unexpected and fucking awesome!”

“Yeah, it was,” You laughed breathlessly, cuddling into his side. The two of you lay there for a while just talking and getting to know each other better.

“Right, we should probably get up, dressed and head back to the sanctuary,” Negan huffed out, getting dressed.

“Okay,” You sighed as you began to dress.

*

Once you were back in the sanctuary, Negan walked you into his room, which was now also your room, you were still struggling to wrap your head around that fact. He had had to go out on a run, leaving you alone in his room. You didn’t know what to do; the place looked clean, but when you were with Mark cleaning was all you did. You decided to do his washing and iron for him since all your stuff was already clean. After you finished you decided to polish everything since you didn’t want to be lazy.

As you polished the island in the kitchen, you heard Negan come in the door.

“Hey, baby. Whatcha doing?” He asked sounding a little confused.

“Polishing. I did your washing and ironing as well, everything else was already clean.” You smiled as you continued to polish the island.

“Thanks, but why?” He asked perplexed. “I could’ve done it myself,” He said making his way towards you.

“What else was I supposed to do?” You asked, realising it was just instinct to clean whenever you were left alone.

“Whatever you want. Read a book, watch a movie, I don’t know. Do you really enjoy cleaning? He looked at you, his hazel eyes burning into you.

“Well... no, I don’t,” You mumbled, looking down embarrassed. “It’s just... Mark always said-”

“I don’t give a fuck what Mark said! He’s gone, baby girl. Stop living your life how he wanted you to. It’s your life, not his,” Negan said walking to stand in front of you. He grabbed your hands as he saw you begin to cry. “What wrong?” Negan panicked, worrying he’s done something wrong.

“Nothing, it’s just no one has ever cared about me enough to worry about what I’m doing with my life.” You cried as Negan pulled you into his embrace.

“Sh, sh. It’s okay, baby.” He gently pulled you back a tiny bit. “Hey, look at me.” He grabbed your chin, making you look at him. “I love you and I’ll never hurt you okay? I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again,” He said, pulling you back into his warm, comforting embrace.

“Promise?” You sniffed, tightening your hold on his strong body. He made you feel safer than anyone else ever could.

“I fucking promise you, baby girl.” Negan smiled at you before planting a sweet, tender kiss on your lips.

“I love you so much, Ne,” You said, kissing him passionately. He fell back a little but remained up-right when you jumped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist. You laughed, looking into his deep hazel eyes. “Sorry,” You giggled.

“Your giggle is fucking adorable by the way.” He bit his lips, his eyes roaming over the top half of your body.

“Thanks,” You laughed, biting your lip. “Is it bad that I want to have sex again you asked, knowing Negan wouldn’t think it was bad, he’d think it was great.

“Not at-fucking-all,” He exclaimed, carrying you to the bedroom, dropping you on the bed. You squealed in excitement. Why the fuck were you excited? You’d fucked him already that day, but you were still excited. He climbed on top of you, lined himself up with your entrance. He pushed his fat cock inside your tight walls. You groaned as he sped up, moving his arm in between your legs, he rubbed your clit with the pad of his thumb. You threw your head, ecstasy-filled noises escaping your slightly open mouth as Negan ploughed into you. His swollen tip brushing against your g-spot for the second time that day.

“Fuck,” You mewled, wrapping your legs around Negan’s waist, pulling him as close to you as possible.

“God, baby, you’re so fucking tight,” Negan praised through gritted teeth.

“You’re so fucking big, Ne,” You praised in return. Your stomach tightened, pleasure burning through you, towards your centre. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and orgasm shook through you as Negan came inside you; painting your walls with his white, thick come. You both panted before you cuddle up with Negan and feel asleep.

***

You and Negan had been together for two months. It was amazing to be with someone that actually loved and respected you. You had to work hard to deal with your flashbacks or mental breakdowns.

This morning you ran to the toilet and threw up, you had been for the past few days and you were starting to worry. You got a few pregnancy tests and took them. Fear pumped through your veins, Negan waited nervously on the other side of the door. You looked at them; picked them up, and opened the door. You locked eyes with Negan.

“What does it say?” He asked nervously.

“They’re all positive... I’m pregnant...”

~~~

Tag list

@jamiekingofmen

[avengerscompound]

Finding Home - Chapter 2

Finding Home: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x OFC (Daisy Adams)

Word Count:  3389

Warnings:  Angst, mentions of torture, violence, major character death, mentions of sexual abuse/rape, pregnancy, smut (vaginal sex, oral sex, pregnancy sex, Bisexual MMF threesome)

Synopsis:  Daisy Adams has abilities. She can read minds. Force her thoughts onto others. As a child, she is taken by Hydra and raised as a weapon. Daisy finds another and speaks to him in his dreams. He has been taken too. He wants to return to the man he loves. Can she get them back together? Will she even want to once she realizes that she’s falling in love?

Chapter 2

I sat waiting for Bucky to return or to not. I hoped that he wouldn’t. That maybe this time Steve would recognize him and say his name. That when he did, the trigger would work properly, and Bucky would go to him. I wasn’t sure how well my triggers would work though. I’d never tested them.

I was paged. He’d returned and my heart sank.

When I entered the room I could tell something was different about him. It was like he wasn’t totally the Winter Soldier. Bucky was there too. He looked at me panicked and he lashed out at one of the men working on him. The tech flew across the room and fell to the floor unconscious. An alarm was sounded, and soldiers filed into the room.

“Adams! What are you doing? Calm him!” Brian yelled at me.

“Soldier, relax,” I said, holding my hand out to him. I pressed the thought calm to him and as I approached. He seemed to relax for a minute, and suddenly he lunged at me dragging my body against his, holding me by my throat with his metal hand.

“Bu – Soldier!” I yelped. I pushed calm on him, and at the same time, I thought ‘Bucky, please. What happened?’

It helped but only a little. He didn’t let me up, but I didn’t feel like I was going to be murdered. He wouldn’t reply though. Not with his thoughts, nor with his voice. I relaxed against him. Partly just so he might relax too, but even though I knew I wasn’t safe, he could kill me at any moment, this was the most physical contact I’d ever had with Bucky and I didn’t want to be experiencing it in sheer terror. He was the only family I had and we’d only ever touched hands before.

“I don’t know what we do here.” One of the soldiers shouted. “Which asset is more important?”

“Don’t you dare shoot the soldier.” I snapped. “It’s fine. I have this. And don’t call me an asset.”

We waited. I thought soothing thoughts and tried unlocking him from his mental cage. It was difficult with the Soldier so far in control. It was likely why he was only partly there. He relaxed though. By the time Pierce came into the room, he was staring blankly ahead, I was still sitting in his lap, but his hand had moved to grip my arm.

Pierce looked right past me. “Mission report.”

Bucky’s grip tightened.

“Mission report, now!” Pierce suddenly slapped him, hard right across the face. His hand squeezed painfully on my arm and it felt like my bone was about to break. I cried out projecting the thought into Bucky. He let me go and I got up. I wanted to put my hands on him. With Pierce there, I wasn’t sure I’d get away with it.

“That man on the bridge …” Bucky said looking at Pierce. “Who was he?”

I pushed the word Steve at him.

Something passed over Pierce’s features. He looked at me and then back to Bucky. “You met him earlier this week on another assignment.”

“I knew him.”

I pushed harder. Bucky, it was Steve. Your friend. He resisted me. The soldier was holding me out. He doesn’t want to know. I don’t know why Pierce was getting Bucky, but all I was getting was the Soldier.

Pierce sat down in front of Bucky. “Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped this century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning we’re gonna give it a push. But if you don’t do your part, I can’t do mine, and Hydra can’t give the world the freedom it deserves.”

“But I knew him.”

“Prep him.”

I saw it clearly, I was getting the soldier and Pierce was getting Bucky because that is what the Soldier wanted. He wanted Bucky gone for good. He was pushing Pierce to wipe him. I put my hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Like somehow that would protect him. “But he’s been out of Cryo-freeze too long,” I said desperate to stop what was about to happen. I needed to unlock him.

“Then wipe him.”

The scientists pushed me out of the way and started preparing him for full mind wipe. This would undo everything I’d done.

I put as many walls up as I could. I’d have to reset things tonight while he’s in cryo. Maybe figure out a way to have him escape next battle.

Pierce grabbed my arm, right where Bucky had been holding it. I flinched as he dragged me from the room.

“What just happened in there?”

“I guess he’s stronger than we both thought.” I shrugged. “He’s never been around someone familiar before.”

“If I find out you did something?” Pierce seethed.

I shrugged. “You’ve been having me wipe his mind for twenty years now. Has anything like this ever happened? You want me to stop? Fine. You want me to leave? Whatever. But why you’d possibly think I’d sabotage the only home I’ve ever known …”

“We are launching a strike tomorrow. I want you to be there. We can use you to sway those in SHIELD who might be unwilling to see our point of view.” Pierce said. “Can I trust you with that?”

I pushed trustworthiness on him. “I don’t know what I’ve done to make you think otherwise.”

He stared at me for a minute, trying to decide if his thoughts are his or not. “Go in and take care of the asset. We are keeping him out of freeze tonight. Make sure he stays blank. Clear his mind of anything the wipe may have missed. Here are the instructions for tomorrow.” He handed me a folder. “You’ll travel with him. Hail Hydra.”

He turned and marched off. “Hail HYDRA,” I muttered under my breath.

Back in the room, the scientists were unhooking Bucky from the machine. He was totally blank.

“Bring him to my room,” I told one of the scientists. He looked at me like was insane, and I pushed the order onto him with everything I had. It made me feel dizzy when I was done, but everyone in the room complied. One thing that is good about Hydra; they never like thinking for themselves. Not having to think seems to be their major philosophy.

They led both of us to my quarters and locked us in. While I did have a little free reign around the facility, when I went to my room I was locked in until morning. With my abilities, I could avoid being taken to my room if I wanted, but the lockdown at night was automatic. No matter how much I pushed that I was one of them, my abilities made me untrustworthy, and while I was here I would always be a prisoner.

My room was a sterile white thing, with a desk and a twin bed. There were no windows and the walls and door were lined with a thick steel which blocked my thoughts from those outside. It meant that if I was acting up I couldn’t influence anyone outside to do anything. It also had the added benefit of giving me absolute silence. Something I didn’t get very often.

Bucky sat blankly on the end of my bed. I threw his instructions on my desk and crouched in front of him. I started opening up the barriers I put in his mind. Without the Winter Soldier there it’s actually easy. Slowly Bucky came out and looked around the room.

“Where am I?” He asked. He sounded a little drunk.

“In my room. What happened today?”

“I’m actually awake? Let’s get out of here!” He jumped up and went to the door. Even with his Super Soldier strength and the metal arm, that door didn’t budge.

I laughed. “Sorry, Buck. I��m just as much a prisoner here as you are. They’ll come and say your trigger words tomorrow, and you’ll be the soldier again. For now, we have to figure out a way to let you get you back so you can escape.”

He turned suddenly and approached me, touching my face first with his metal hand and then with his real one. “I can’t believe I’m me. When was I last me?”

I shook my head trailing my hands down his torso. “I don’t know. Might have been almost seventy years ago. I don’t really know what parts of your story are real. Dream stuff gets confused easily.”

“You’re a real person.” His metal thumb traced over my lip. He was gentle with it in a way I would have thought impossible. It made my skin tingle, and I wanted him to push it into my mouth so I could taste it. “I know I keep seeing you when they bring me out, but it’s for such a short time and I always feel bleary, like I’m still half in the dream. I wasn’t sure if I invented you to keep me company.”

“Bucky. You have to focus. I need to know what hap -” My words are cut off by his mouth on mine. His kiss was urgent and hungry. He had been wanting this affection for longer than I’ve been alive. I wrapped my arms around his waist my hands traveling up his back. I opened my mouth for him and his tongue pushed inside. I pressed mine against it and caressed my lips against his. When he finally had had enough we pulled apart panting.

His hands remained on my cheeks and he looked down at me like he couldn’t believe I was real. His thoughts were confused. He wanted me, but he wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t tell if what he felt is a real love for me and that the desire had come from that or if it was just that I was warm and he was him for the first time in so long. The thought of me as a child kept entering his head. It made him feel guilty and dirty.

I don’t want to use my abilities on him but I’ve started to think I’m not going to have any choice. “You’re really here, Bucky. This isn’t a dream. We don’t have a lot of time though. They’re going to use you again tomorrow. We need to figure out how to stop them.”

“Can I – I just – it’s been …”

His thoughts overwhelmed me. He just wants affection.

I led him to my bed and pushed him down onto it.

“Lie down,” I said and he complied. I crawled into the bed next to him and he wrapped his arms around me. I could hear his heartbeat, it’s running fast. Waking him up was a mistake. My fingers trace along his face. “Tell me what happened today. Do you remember?”

“I remember everything they make me do.” He said sadly. “I saw Steve, and we fought. For a long time. I think whatever you did worked because I was holding back. He knocked my mask off, and he recognized me.”

He stopped talking, but I can hear his thoughts. Steve said his name, and just as I’d planted Bucky became conscious. The Winter Soldier had been too strong for him though. I don’t know how I can counteract that. If the Soldier is dominant, I don’t think there’s anything I can do to suppress him. Not without the machine they use to wipe him. It was hard enough just calming him down when I was present. There is no way I can make sure he’d be able to break free totally.

“Was it hard sharing your body with the Soldier?”

“I – I -” His mind is full of turmoil. It was awful. I’m scared whatever I do to him tonight will mean he has to live with the Soldier forever.

“It’s okay. I can see.” I touched his lips with my fingers and he lent down and kissed me.

I ground my hips against him without even meaning to. It’s like my body reacted to him and was completely out of my control. His cock hardened against me and I felt guilty. I couldn’t tell if those were my feelings or his intruding on me. Is it guilt for making him want me like this? Or guilt because he still keeps thinking of me as a child?

“I’m not a kid, Bucky. And you never really knew me as one. Not really.”

He laughed, it’s the first genuine sign of happiness I’ve seen since he woke up. “You see that, huh?”

“I see everything. I see how you want to take me on a date, buy me flowers, kiss me at the door. I see how that makes you feel guilty because you also want to do that with Steve. I see how you’re thinking about what my pussy tastes like. I see how you want to stick your finger in it, not your real fingers though, these ones.” I take his cybernetic hand in mine and push it against my crotch. “I can see how you wonder if Steve would like to share me with you. That maybe if you introduced the idea of both of you having sex with me, that might get you both in bed together. I can also see the really dark stuff. Like how you want to choke me as I come. How you just want to take me now to shut me up.”

Bucky blinked at me. I’d shocked him, but strangely he was not embarrassed. He is so used to me just being in his head, he doesn’t consider it an intrusion anymore. He’s just surprised that I’d say those things out loud. “And what are you thinking?” He asks. He’s turned it into a game.

I pushed my thoughts on him. Thoughts of me naked, spread for him slick with sweat as he pounds away at me, holding me by the throat. Of me on my knees sucking his cock. All the thoughts of the things I want to do to him, and I want him to do to me. Even the ones I don’t really want at all.

“Wow, I didn’t think dames thought like that at all.” Bucky grinned when I’m done. He rolled over, so he was above me, I spread my legs and he ground against me.

“In my experience, almost everyone thinks like that. I’ve only met a few people who haven’t.”

He started kissing me along my body. He took hold of my shirt with his metal hand and just tore it like it was made of paper. I gasped and arched into him, aching for him to be rough with me too. His mouth moved to my breast and he flicked at my nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. My skin tingled and I hummed. He slipped his hand into the waistband of my pants, the cold metal pushed between my folds, finding my clit immediately. A jolt shot through my body and I tensed up.

“Bucky?”

He hummed as a way of a response.

“Can you feel things with you’re prosthetic arm?”

He pushed a finger into my cunt, and at the same time as I felt the cold steel push into me, I was taken over by the feeling of warmth and wetness squeezing against unyielding metal.

I groaned loudly at the sensory overload. No one has ever pushed their thoughts onto me like that before. I can seek them out, and I always have them as background noise, but that was new. Maybe the connection I’d kept with Bucky all these years had changed him a little. Made us permanently connected.  He’d worked out a way to use it.

Bucky released my nipple from his mouth and looked up at me, a wicked smile spread over his face. “I felt that. You nearly came.” He hooked his finger inside of me, and his thumb countered the pressure he is created inside me by pressing against my clit. It sent a spark through me, and I moaned, clutching at the sheets.

“Stay in my head while I eat you out.” He purred.

Eat you out. Did people back in the forties use that term or did he get it from me? I opened my mind to him allowing us both to share our feelings.

He pulled my pants off and tossed them aside, and began nuzzling at my crotch. The scent of my cunt filled me and I could feel myself getting even wetter than I already was. He spread my folds and he flattened his tongue, running it up my crevice, tasting me. My mouth watered as the sweet musky flavor of myself mixed with the feeling of his tongue sending shivers through my body. His fingers pushed back inside me and he moved them in and out as he swirled his tongue over my clit.

“Oh fuck.” I groaned, arching off the mattress.

He liked how I tasted and he was enjoying how my body was responding to him. Which in turn made my responses even stronger. I felt like I was coming apart. As I reached my climax I close my mind off to him, worried that the feeling of my orgasm in his mind would set him off. So when I came, it is me alone, clenching around his fingers, crying out.

He swiped his tongue one last time along my slit and sat up. “You cut me off.” He grinned, as he began unfastening his pants.

“I was worried it would be too much.” I panted.

He laughed. “Yeah, it might have been. I still felt you projecting it a little. It was pretty intense.”

“This connection we have is strange, don’t you think? I’ve never had that before.”

He laughed. “I don’t know. I’ve been talking to you entirely in dreams for the last twenty years. That’s probably a little stranger. I’m not sure what’s normal anymore.”

He pushed his pants off and stalked over my body. I pulled him into a kiss actually tasting myself for the first time ever. He aligned his cock with the entrance to my cunt, and a brief thought passed through my head. We have no protection. This is reckless.

He entered me and the thought is gone. I tensed around him and clung to his neck. We moved together, grinding, thrusting rolling out hips as our mouths clashed against each other.

I pushed the need to be on top to him, and he took hold of me and rolled us over. I sat up leaning on his shoulders. I ran my finger down where his flesh met steel.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

He shook his head and I started rolling my hips against him. Hands stroked down my body, his thumbs grazed over my nipples as they moved downwards. His fingers found my clit and he gripped onto my hip as I rocked against him.

I clenched down and started to really ride him, rocking back and forth, bouncing against him. He sat up, wrapping his arms around me holding me to him as I brought us both closer to climax. He bit down into my shoulder, setting me over, I came again cursing out loudly.  He followed closely spilling inside me and collapsing back onto the bed.

I lay down next to him, my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling the bed covers up. I reached above us turning the lights out.

“Bucky,” I whisper.

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’m scared that this is all you’re gonna get. This is your last day where you get to be you and not him. The way the soldier fought to stay in control, I don’t know how to override that without the mind wipe machine.”

He placed a kiss on my head. “Well thank you for at least giving me one more day. I know whatever happens after this, you were trying to help.”

He drifted off to sleep, and I spend the night working on his mind, finding things to help bring him back, and take control from the Soldier.

// NEXT

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day One | Fishing ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Suigin Reiji ] [ Verse: White Hands of Healing ] [ Previous || Next ]

In a lot of ways, even several years later, he’s still getting used to...all of this.

All of this.

Being alive. Being...here. With her. In such a typical, domestic, dare he call it normal setting in the last place he ever expected to be. But the fourth war opened his eyes to many things...including a need to stay alive.

He had to come back.

Back to her.

And so, he survived the war. Survived the abuse in Konoha’s prisons...abuse he felt he deserved for his actions a thousand times over. Death, surely, would have been the most fitting punishment. But, as usual, he’s being selfish.

And that selfishness has led to a great many changes...mostly in his own mind. He was content to remain with Ryū, no matter what title they had...but eventually, he decided to make things...official. At least, in the traditional sense. They’d long agreed it didn’t really matter, but...he could tell she wanted it. So, he asked her to marry him.

And she said yes.

But an even greater shift in his thoughts had been in regard to the subject of children. For more than half his life, he despised this world. Found it too cruel, too dark, too beyond saving. Even if he could somehow find a partner...he could never bring another life into a world like the one he’d been shattered in.

But she’d wanted them. Between her mothering nature and her loneliness, devoid of any family of her own, it had been an unspoken wish, even after meeting him.

Their world was changing, even if it was slowly. For the first time since he was thirteen...Obito had hope.

And he decided to bet on it in the most extreme of ways: subject a new life, half his own, to their reality.

They both knew they’d die before letting any child of theirs suffer as they had. Surely, between the two of them...a child could turn out all right.

Even if, at first...he wasn’t convinced he deserved it.

But Ryū was ever patient, doing her best to build him up.

“You will continue to pay for your mistakes for the rest of your life...you know that. There’s no escaping them. But your past shouldn’t cost you your future, Obito. Your future should be where you move forward. Where you try to better yourself...and find happiness.”

So...they started to try.

It wasn’t easy. The damage his body had suffered during the Kannabi Bridge mission left him...struggling. Though Ryū could help him overcome the harm done to his nerves, fertility was vastly reduced. And every negative test made him more anxious, more afraid that he would fail her and her want for a family.

But then...something took root.

And Obito shifted gears completely. If he’d been paranoid over her before, after all she’d suffered on his behalf, he was obsessed with her health now. No bending, no lifting, keeping even walking to a minimum as to protect both her, and the new life she tended.

Ryū, patience intact, allowed a great deal of it, understanding his worry completely. After so long of trying to conceive, and all their struggles before that...they weren’t going to take any chances.

And then, just shy of nine months later, in the middle of September...their son was born.

Obito could scarcely tell what he was feeling. A son...a child of his own. It was almost...too much. And with every milestone, he could only grow more proud. First steps, first words, first teeth and hair and everything in between.

Reiji was half his world, Ryū being the other. The few things he clung to. And as the boy grew, so did his nerves about what their pasts would mean to him once he was old enough to understand. But all else aside, Obito did his best to grow into a father Reiji could be proud of.

“...I feel like we should do something today.”

Looking up from her skimming of the mail after her early shift, Ryū blinks before asking, “...like what?”

“I’m not sure yet. I feel restless,” Obito admits, sitting in his own chair and indeed looking ready to just hop to his feet.

Mulling that over for a moment, his wife then offers, “...why don’t you take Reiji out to do something? I think he’s been rather bored himself, too. And it’s never a bad idea to have a little father and son bonding time, is it?” Her lips curl in a smile.

Obito considers that, seeming to perk up. “...all right. What should we do?”

“Well, I’m hardly an expert on the subject, but...isn’t there always the classic trope of going fishing? I think that’s a rather typical father-son thing to do.”

“...we don’t have any poles.”

“You can get some!”

“But -?”

“It’s fine. Besides, if you catch something, consider it an investment in dinner,” she gently teases, a knowing glint in her eyes. “And even then, it’s still worth it to take him out. You can reuse them as much as you want! Take him out to the Naka and fish for a while. Anything you catch I’ll cook up when you get back, ne?”

That seems to embolden him. “...all right. Then...we’ll do that! And I will catch something.”

Ryū can’t help but giggle into a hand. “I’ll hold you to that!”

“Reiji!” Obito calls as he gets up from the table, moving to find his son. “Come on, we’re going out!”

Peering down the stairs, the boy blinks dark greys. “...out?”

“I’m going to teach you how to fish.”

He brightens. “You know how to fish, tōchan…?”

Well...he used to watch Kakashi do it. Surely it can’t be that difficult. “Of course. Come on, we’ll get ourselves some poles and give it a try!”

Reiji scampers down the steps, trailing eagerly after his father as he moves toward the door. “Okay! Is kāchan coming with us…?”

“I’ll be here when you get back,” she assures her son with a smile. “You go catch us some fish, and I’ll cook them up, ne?”

“Yeah!”

Hand at his boy’s back, Obito ushers him out once his shoes are on. “Be back later.”

“Be safe,” Ryū offers as always, smiling gently.

“Of course.” Once out, he leads the way to the shopping district. “So...are you excited?”

“Yeah!” Reiji chirps, little legs jogging to keep up with Obito’s longer steps. “I’ve never gone fishing before! Think we’ll catch one?”

“I’m sure we will. But you have to be patient, too.”

“Okay!”

A brief visit to a bait and tackle shop later, they emerge with two poles (one a good bit smaller than the other), some bait, and an ice bucket for their potential catches. From there, it’s a jaunt to the banks of the Naka. “So...first, we have to put the bait on the hook, like this.” Wrangling a worm, Obito skewers it onto the barbs.

Immediately, Reiji’s face falls. “...you mean…? Does it hurt?”

Obito glances up. Yet another way Reiji takes after his mother. “Well, er...no. You see...worms can’t feel. So no, it doesn’t hurt them. But if you want to catch a fish, you have to lure them in with food. And a fish loves a worm, hm?”

“...okay,” the boy replies, tone still rather unsure.

“...here, I’ll do the first one for you.” Once they’re both baited, he stands and says, “Now, we have to cast. Hold your pole like this...put your line behind you...and then flick it out into the water, like so.” Obito demonstrates, sending the hook and worm out into the slow current of the river.

Watching with eager eyes, Reiji carefully mimics his father’s posture before doing the same. His line only travels a fraction of the distance, but still makes it into decent water. “Like that?”

“Yes! Very good. And now...we wait.”

Several minutes of silence pass, and Obito glances to his son. Reiji, in turn, stares intensely at his line.

“...now, a fish might nibble it first, and then leave. Only pull once you feel a real big tug, hm? That will hook him! Then you have to reel him in, but carefully. You don’t want to break your line, all right?”

“O-okay.” Still watching, he tightens his grip on the pole.

Obito just gives a soft snort, looking back to his own.

Another bout of silence, and then Reiji gives a sound of shock. “Oh! It moved!”

“Is it still pulling?”

“Y...yeah! I think so!”

“Then give a tug back, and start reeling, all right?”

Reiji nods, giving a few bobs of his pole and then turning the reel. “It...it’s strong, tōchan!”

“Just keep reeling whenever you feel him get tired. He’ll wear himself out eventually. Just be patient, and watch your line!”

Intensity now tinged with worry, Reiji does his best to follow the instructions. His little hands shake as the line sways this way and that, reeling whenever he feels the pull slacken. Bit by bit, the line approaches the shore until they can see flickers of fish.

“You’ve almost got it!”

“Hngh…!” Giving one last pull, Reiji brings his catch up from the water.

It shakes and flails on the line, Obito setting aside his own to help grab it. It’s a rather decent size, and he grins ear to ear. “Reiji, look! You did it!”

Panting in both effort and nerves, the boy manages to perk up, watching as Obito frees it from the hook. “I...I did…!”

“Now, er…” The hard part. “You, uh...you check your hook, all right? And I’ll take care of the fish.”

“Okay!”

Once the boy’s attention is elsewhere, Obito puts the fish out of its misery and into the bucket of ice. “Want to try again?”

“Yeah!”

They pass another hour, Reiji catching another two fish, while Obito manages a few of his own. By the time they’re done, there’s more than enough for dinner.

Poles put away and bucket in hand, Obito ruffles his son’s hair with a wide grin. “You did well!”

Reiji, in turn, beams happily in pride. “Thanks for taking me, tōchan! It was fun! Can we...do that again sometime?”

“Of course! You just let me know, all right?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Well...I have a job tomorrow. But maybe my next day off, hm? Then we’ll have more fresh fish for supper.”

“Yay!”

Ryū meets them at the door, praising them both. “Look at all these fish! You did such a good job, dear - I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks kāchan! Can we eat now? I’m starving…!”

“Well, we have to get the fish ready first, but then I’ll get them cooking! Why don’t you wash up, and you can help me, ne?”

“Yeah!”

“Mind handling the dirty work?” she then asks Obito with a smile.

“I suppose.”

“So, did you have fun…?”

“Well, we couldn’t talk much without scaring the fish, and…” He gestures to their son. “He was far too focused, anyway.”

“I’m sure he just wanted to do a good job. He’ll relax the more you take him...then you can talk a bit more.”

“Hm.”

Hand on his shoulder, Ryū lifts to give her husband a warm press of her lips to his cheek. “Thank you for taking him. I’m sure it’s all he’ll talk about for days.”

That brings a pleasant swell to Obito’s chest. “Hn...yeah! He already wants to go again.”

“I’m sure! Now...get those gutted and scaled, and I’ll handle the rest...unless you want to lend a hand in the kitchen, too?”

“I could do that.”

                                                           .oOo.

     All righty folks, welcome to the first of 31 days of ObiRyū October! This was a joint idea between myself and my RP partner who ships her Obito with my OC. We made an entire prompt list, and this is the first :D      This one is based after the events of Distraction, so...I guess you COULD consider it mild spoilers of how that's going to go eventually. It also comes from Something New, which...is also Distraction verse material. It's pretty much our default for now, so any "canon" pieces for this challenge can be assumed to follow that same storyline unless said otherwise.      That said, there WILL be some AU pieces too - my mind's already buzzing with ideas from the prompt list! I'm also still doing my daily drabbles though, so these might be a LITTLE inconsistent, but I'll do my darndest to keep up through the month!      Anyway, that's all for this one! Thanks for reading~

[sleepytrolls]

R to Restart (Part 2)

[Part 2]

[Part 1]

Art by @hornedpandeiros

TW: Violence, Religious themes,Abuse, Drug use

Tight in your hands, tight in your throat. Tight on her throat. In your hands full and soft, blue and purple bruised between her neck and your fingertips. You and her, just a bruise on the both of you.  Mirrors fragmented with memories, shattered, glittering damning and dangerous. It felt the same, the bite, the boil, the burn and the cold tears that rained onto your hand. The music played, the same song, the same dance. Bared half, her face, her soul, her walls and emotions. Still barred off until it was gone. All you had to do was get it off again. The mask, the cursed and screeched, feathered and holy. Your hands tightened more, the gasps stopped. How long would you have to hold til it stopped, the little tick of her music. Deep and pulsing, fast and racing. You wanted it to stop, it needed to stop. It wouldn’t quit playing back again and again in your head. Choking your throat as much as hers, the acid in your stomach bit. You wanted to make her restart, you should have restarted  her that day. Made her new, made her yours.

You weren’t that cruel though.

____________________________

1247 NE Nectar St,

Miami, Alternia 33139

April 25th, Decadence.

Cigarette stained white, unforgiving and  weathered. Ugly walls, closed in small, safe.  They had eyes had seen each fight, heard every word. Now they felt her body again, different from when teeth clicked and lips meet in a need of one another.  A line had been drawn, a line had been snorted, a line had been crossed.  Blue and purple ran together. Always together, never apart. You didn’t want to be alone. Purple from your nose, blue from her eyes. Fangs ripped at your lip influencing the  buzz in your head that wouldn’t let you feel it until more til teeth brought more blood, ripped and sharp.  

Richard squawked, half on half off. Furious clucks, snippy remarks. They were washed out, and you were drifting at sea. Clouded with the haze of drugs and her eyes were like the sea. The sea that was beautiful, that was raging and fierce. That crashed and fought with you. You loved them, you could stare into them all day. She never wanted you to.

Never direct, never on you. Always darting, always dull. Did she not want you? Why did she keep you? Was she bored? Had the picture finally come apart and the colors fade? Were you faded? All the pieces weren’t fitting together, or maybe you just didn’t like how it looked. Flames licked the edge. The drip from your nose said the answers to all of it. You knew you had a problem, something that had never been an issue until recent. Powder dusted your table, your money, your face. Her face. She was so pretty when she’d lick it from her fingers, when her head tilted back and the glow of the tv caressed her features. Sharp, dark, radiant, finally winding, finally breathing. Was she even alive? You wanted to lick them too. Your tongue flicked out to lick the blood off of her lip and you pulled back to bare your teeth and scream.

The dull thud from the ceiling reminded you of where you were, where your hands were.

It was a low neighborhood. Reds and browns for the most part, more often than not they avoided you until you stopped sharing your color. Hidden, whispers  let you know that your neighbors knew. They must’ve been hiding again. Fear of what you did, what she did. How it would end if both decided enough was enough. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was her and this little apartment and the coke on the table. It was all yours too, yours, yours, yours. So holy and sweet.

Why would she not look at you? You just wanted her to look at you.

The refusal boiled the blood, you would make her if you had to. Your grasp on her throat let up and you ripped the mask off. She looked so good in blue, but she looked better in purple. She looked better with you. You wished she wear it. That she’d show it to the world. That she’d just be yours. At least you’d have her like this.  Glazed like sugar your color coated her eyes and the pupils came in contact with yours. You could stare into them forever. You felt her chest heave and you pressed a small kiss to her lips.

You loved her, you loved the rush she gave you. She loved you didn’t she? You pressed your forehead to hers.

“I love you.”

She would never say them, but she wouldn’t leave you tonight.

Not the first time, not the last time you would fight and she would forget it after. It was a nice night like that, it was simple after that. Dinner, and tv and then sleep. The more tired you got, the weaker the ties between you and her became. She never left you. You didn’t think she could. She just laid there tucked into your arms more often than not till she passed out too. You wondered if the fighting made her tired too. Tucking your face into her hair you breathed her in, she was life itself. She smelled like strawberries and cigarettes.

Pain flourished, it bloomed like roses on your jaw. Purple splattered your eyes and you only got to glance up in your haze to see her there. Goddess, powerful and blazing above you. Her bat was in her hands. Then the world went dark again once her judgement had rained down.

Light and heat, heat and light. Radiance rained and it burnt your eyes like the smoke burnt your lungs. The world moved slow, there was no way to sit up quick with the way your head swam. The ocean could only save you now, there was no air to give or take. Only smoke, only aching.  A leap came into your throat lead by your heart and your brain rushed and swelled. Where was she?  Your arms were empty, tied tight to the bed. A kiss from the flame licked at your hands, scorching them with their want. The same want you had once.  It hurt, but it didn’t hurt as much as the realization. It made your chest cave. Rib snapped just like the ropes snapped from the flames. Wood beams could fall, flames could bite and the ache in your jaw could ring as you screamed. Nothing hurt more than what she had done.

She had set both of your worlds on fire.

She was gone.

[greatfruitboo22]

Sing For Me

I wrote a BTS oneshot just for the fun of it. I’ll put a link to AO3 as well if it’s easier to read. https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448988

I wake up in our bed alone, stretching I look for my boyfriend Jeon Jungkook. Finding no sign, he was in here recently, I go looking for him. Throwing on his shirt over my body, I walk out the room. I listen knowing he should be close. I can hear movement and some faint singing coming from the kitchen. I smile, making out the quiet tune of Tomorrow. I make my way to him, wanting to be closer, wanting to hear him sing. I stood in the doorway of the kitchen. His voice carrying, even with his low volume. I feel his voice flow through me, awaking something deep within.

               “Follow your dream like, breaker. Even if it breaks down, oh better.” I feel the words heating my skin, making my core clench. His melodic voice ringing true no matter what language he uses.

               “Follow your dream like breaker,” I notice he gets louder, “ Even if it breaks down, don’t ever run backwards, never.” Drawing out the word never, he turned and makes eye contact with me. I feel my heart beat faster, heat pooling. His eyes light up and a smirk crosses his face. He knows what his voice does to me. His voice a kink I never thought I’d have.

               “Haega tteugi jeon saebyeogi,” The jump in language makes my feet move of their own accord, “Buseojindaedo oh better.” I stop in front of him, want burning under my skin. I know he can see the hunger in my eyes. He pauses in his singing, breathing deep as if taking in my scent.

               “Gong-ju-nim, are you needing something from me?” Kookie’s hand moved to grip my hip, pulling me even closer. I can feel a growl rumble in his chest. I knew I had to answer fast. He uses of princess in Korean making my heart race at its implications. His shirt was gripped hard in his fist, pulling my legs close, making it impossible to move away. I knew how much he loved when I wore his clothes it brought out this pride in showing I was his. I took a deep breath and pushed my words out before I lost my nerve.

               “I need you Kookie. I need you to keep touching me,” I felt a blush cover my cheeks, quietly I added, “ I need you to sing to me while you fuck me senseless.” I knew he heard me, when his hand squeezed my hip. I felt a moan slip past my lips. A shock ran through my body. I asked for some end to this want of hearing his voice. When he didn’t respond immediately, I close my eyes, tilting my head down.

               “What was that, baby?” His other hand lifting my chin to look him in the eyes.

               Shakily I answer, “I want you to fuck me senseless, as you sing to me. Your voice does stuff to me Kookie.” I shiver thinking of how wet I was just by listening to him. It’s the first time I’ve ever said it out loud. A wicked look crosses his face. I knew there was no backing out now.

               “Okay baby, but only if you ride me.” He leaned down, his voice husky, making my skin break out in goosebumps. I nod my head, my brain no longer functioning at speaking level. He knew how hard it was for me to resist him. A roguish grin graces his lips, in less than a breath he moves and has me in his arms. My legs come to rest on the sides of his hips. Kookie’s powerful hands clutching my thighs. He pushed me higher to get a better grip, the action pressing my core to his stomach, rubbing me in all the right ways as he moves. He starts out for our room, each step pushing my clit against his toned body. I moan low, delicious heat licks through my body. Kookie picks another song, another one of my favorites. Euphoria is the lowest I’ve heard it, come out of his mouth.

               “ You’re the sun that rose again in my life, A reincarnation of my childhood.” His breath is on my neck, my body strung tight. I feel my core clench wanting to be filled, I’m getting wetter with each note coming from his lips. The combination of him moving against me and his voice has my body close to climax. “I don’t know what these emotions are, Am I still dreaming?”

               He places me on the bed with the next line. He steps back to watch me react to his voice. “sumi makhil deushi haengbokhaejyeo jubyeoni jeomjeom deo tumyeonghaejyeo” His shirt is bunched around my waist leaving my lower body exposed. I feel my juices drip down my legs to the bed, and I know he can see it too. He moves forward and towers over my laying figure. Reaching out his hands start to stroke my body. His hand shifted to cup my boob from underneath, my nipples harden. I’m lost in the feeling of his heat, and music flowing over me. The words lost to my brain, I can only hear notes, feel the vibrations his body creates. I feel my core clench and heat with each sound out of his mouth. I can feel my slick covering my thighs, my thighs flex trying to ease some pressure on my throbbing clit. His voice breathy and filling the room, I hold my breath just trying to hear him. Kookie’s hands squeezing every inch of my body, always just barely avoiding touching my core. His fingers dance over my nipples and hips. Teasing me. My pussy tightens around nothing, so badly I want him inside of me. My head is fuzzy. I want everything from him at once, but his voice is what I want the most. I can feel impatience simmering under my skin. He sounds like he is moaning the song to me and I feel myself come apart. I wasn’t sure if I could come untouched, but the feeling of him touching me and his voice push me over. My hips lift off the bed, almost knocking him over. He hasn’t even touched my pussy and I come with a loud whine. Kookie pauses to look at me.

               “Did you just….come?” He sounds proud. I nod my head not trusting my voice. He gets this self-indulgent smile. “I don’t think you understand how happy it makes me to know you can come from just my voice.” I know from the look in his eyes he wants to see me come again. I suck in a breath as he moves down to his knees in front of my open legs. I can feel his gaze and feel how wet I get just from that.

               “I want to try something baby.” His hands are at my legs pushing them wider to accommodate his wide shoulders. I look down to see a naughty look cross his face. Kookie picks up where he left off in Euphoria. “jeogi meolliseo badaga deullyeo kkumeul geonneoseo supul neomeoro.” His leans close to my clit and I feel the breath of each sung note against me. My sensitive clit throbs at the attention, not sure if it was pleasure or pain. I close my eyes, not able to take the look of his beautiful face. My body wants to move away from his heat. I writhe under his teasing, my body running hot. I don’t feel him move and suddenly his index finger in pushing its way into my body. A high pitch whine pushes through my tight lips. My core clenches tight around the intrusion. More breathy notes are pressed against my clit, as he pushes his finger deeper.

               “seonmyeonghaejineun geu goseuro ga Take my hands now You are the cause of my euphoria” He pushes a second finger inside, my hips rocking upwards. He is in a better position to rub against my g-spot. He knows it too; I can hear a smile color the words leaving his mouth. My hands search for something grip, twisting the sheets in my grip. I know he has the breath control like no other, but he is just teasing me right now. His warm breath fans across my clit and the sides of my lips. I can feel my legs begin to shake. He can feel my climax coming on fast. Working harder, he curls his fingers putting more pressure on my g-spot. His fingers move quickly abusing my walls. I can feel my climax building quickly. He no longer is singing words just notes, with his lips close so I can feel the vibrations. He gets to the end of whatever note he held, and I come apart in his hands. My legs shake, and I can barely feel myself squirt. I can’t hold back the moan, as my hips rock back and forth on his fingers. I finally come down from my high, breathing hard. I feel him pull out and whine at the loss. I hear him suck his own fingers in his mouth, licking off my juices. I blush hard at the erotic sight. His eyes are dark with lust and I know there is more to come. He stands up, revealing his hard, straining cock tenting his boxers.

               He grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet. “My turn princess.” He turns quickly placing his body on the bed, pulling me between his legs. I wanted nothing more than to undress him and ride him until we were both begging, but I knew I needed to be patient. He looked me over, knowing he was still looking for a new song to sing. He leans closer to me, pulling his shirt over my body, taking a deep breath he starts again.

               “Listen my my baby naneun jeo haneureul nopi nalgo isseo.” Hearing Boy with Luv come out of his mouth makes my heart race. His shirt has gone above my breasts, I move my arms up to help him. “Now it’s so high up here, I want you tuned into my eyes. Yeah you makin’ me a boy with luv.” Shivers cross my skin. The shirt finally pulls off my head, I make a rash decision. I move quickly, pushing him to the bed. I run my nails down his body.

               “Oh my my my oh my my my.” The normally strong words come out breathy and high. I hook my fingers in his boxer waistband and tug. “ne jeonbureul hamkkehago shipeo.” I know he switches back to Korean to try and catch me off guard, but I want nothing more than to feel him inside me. I land on my knees hard, his underwear caught at his knees, his cock had sprung free, my mouth watering. I barely heard the next verse come, I licked the trail of pre-come dripping down his shaft. I felt him falter in his singing the moment my tongue touched him. I wrap my lips around the head and move down slowly, taking more him. His next words cut off as I reach the base of his cock, easily deep throating him after many times of practice. My eyes begin to water from holding myself there. I look up and meet his gaze, only jagged breaths coming his mouth. I pull myself off with a loud pop. I work hard to make him come. Licking under his sensitive head, moving my hand tightly around his base. I love giving him blowjobs. I wrap my lips around him again. Moving slowly down gagging myself. I notice he has stop singing, only needy whines falling from his lips. Music to my ears. I move back up, my tongue licking his underside. I let the tip of his cock rest against my tongue. I can feel his hips twitch, knowing he wants to fuck my mouth like normal. I moan at the idea, the vibrations running down his shaft. I feel him shudder and suck in a gasp. He springs forward before either of us gets too carried away. His fingers push through my hair, moving my head away from his body. I whine at the loss of him.

               “Not fair princess.” His voice sounds rough. “I guess you aren’t the only one with things for mouths.” His goofy smile making my heart sing. I smile back. I feel my juices drip down my leg, and I feel the heat come back to life. Just looking at him love and lust flow through my body. I stand up, forcing his hand out of my hair. I slowly climb the rest of the way on to the bed and on top of him. I sit a bit forward so just his tip is touching my core. I know I’m dripping on him.

               “Oh, princess you are so wet for me.” His voice drops an octave and I feel my body clench. “Should we continue?” I nod my head frantically, not caring how needy I looked. “You got me high so fast I want to be with you for everything.” The first note coming out of his mouth, he is pushing into me slow and deep. His grip on my hips is hard, he is in charge of how fast we will go. I feel a whine try and push from my mouth, but I want to hear him. The next verse from his mouth he moves a little faster. I try and remain in control of my body, but he knows how to play me like a fine-tuned instrument. Kookie moves his hands away from my hips, song lyrics still spilling from his lips. I have no clue what song it is, nor do I care. I can hear his need in his notes. His hips stop moving as much, I take my cue to start moving. I rock back and forth on his cock, putting pressure on my g-stop. I love how well he fills me, stretching just enough for a little pain. I feel more of my control slip away. Lyrics are pouring out of his mouth, I can feel my body coil tighter, wanting to come at the same time he finishes singing, I move more. I can feel the vibrations of his singing under my hands.  I start bouncing on his cock, pushing him deeper. I feel him harden inside me, knowing he was close as well. I work harder. I move up and twist down, I want to scream his name. I want to feel him spill inside me. I want him to continue singing . I feel my body come apart as I come. I stop moving, my legs weak and shaking. I feel my body clench hard around his cock, milking him for everything he can give me. I can hear him finish the song; it comes out as a slow moan. He pushes deep, covering my walls. I can feel his release, start mini climaxes start in my body. I feel my body quake, my wall contracting around him. I feel so sensitive and don’t want to move.

From his mouth quietly I hear, “Oh my my my.” Giggling I try to move without dislodging him. I collapse on him, breathing hard. I know I will never be able to listen to those songs without his moans filling my ears. I see the smirk on his lips and know he intended it that way. We stay like this for a little longer. He is the first to move, pulling himself from inside of me. I whine at the loss of contact. I can feel both his and mine juice leak from me. I feel my core clench, but I’m too tired to try and move. Kookie turns so that I’m no longer on top of him. He maneuvers me to the top of the bed and climbs under the covers with me. I feel my eyes slide close as he pulls me close.

               “Thank you Kookie, for indulging in my kinks. “ I lay my head down and start to doze off. He always takes everything out of me. I can here him as I drift into sleep.

               “Anything for you princess. I’m a boy with Love.”

[jadehqknb]

Hiiiii, so I was thinking a bad boy imagine where the reader is Kise or Kuroo's girlfriend and she's very supportive of him being in a gang and she's also very affectionate and sweet, but some of her friends warned her about him bc he's very flirty and she's very protective and jealous. So she finds him and another girl in a compromising position but it's not the case tho and so she leaves and she's rly hurt. She gets kidnapped and he saves her and plz plz plzzz happy ending?? Thank youuuu

Hello! So, since I paired up two ofthe asks that made the randomizer cut I re-randomized the remaining asks andthis one came out on top to be the last of the month! Thanks!

“You know he’s, like,always all over other girls, right?” How could she have ever defended himfrom that after seeing what she did? Her boyfriend, with her…the image wasburned into her memory, searing away the love she felt for him replacing itwith a deep-seated ache. After everything she’d done for him too! She supportedhim despite her family disowning her for aligning herself with a rival gangmember. She believed in him even though all her friends told her he was nogood, that he would break her heart because he was a flirt! She knew he wasoften sent for coercion against female members of rival gangs, his charm andgood looks breaking past any defenses they put up.

But now the same had happened to her. She’d trusted him and-

Her thoughts abruptly cut off as a searing pain shot throughher head. Blinking rapidly, the last image before her eyes were the faces ofwho she knew to be his enemies, the ones who’d sworn revenge upon him. With ashuddering sigh, she fell unconscious, morbidly thanking the gods for a quickrelease from the pain of his betrayal.

Kise thought he knew anger, butthis rage, it’s fierce enough to scare himself. Before him sits his love, theone person in the whole world who understands and loves him for everything heis. She knows his darkest secrets, his deepest fears, his heart’s desires, allof it.

And now she’s suffering because ofit.

It’s clear they’ve roughed her up,her blood-soaked shirt is evidence enough of that. But there’s something else,something deeper and more underhanded that’s happened because when her headrises and their eyes meet (one of hers swollen), there’s no expression ofgratitude, no release of breath in relief of his arrival. If anything, a lookof utter agony spills across her face.

“Just leave me Kise,” the use ofhis last name by her voice startling him, “they can’t hurt me any worse thanyou have.”

“________-cchi, what are you-“

“Don’t call me that! Don’t you evercall me that again! How could you? How could you do that, to me!” she shouts,voice echoing in the cavernous warehouse.

Around them are the bodies of herkidnappers, most unconscious but a few dead. Kuroko and Kagami blink inconfusion, both of them unsure exactly what to do. Clearly, _______ needs helpbut as Kise starts moving towards her again she screams out, “Stay the fuckaway from me!”

“Get her,” Kise grunts and Kurokomoves to her in his stead.

“Come on, ______-chan, let’s getyou out of here,” the blue haired sniper says, untying her restraints. Shefalls against him, thoroughly spent, staining his suit with blood. Kagami movesnext, leaning down and lifting her up easily.

The sight of her snuggling into thecrook of the red head’s neck makes Kise’s blood boil but there’s no time forthis right now. She needs medical attention and rest. Then, maybe, hopefully,they can work through whatever lies it is they told her to turn her againsthim.

Midorima clicks his tongue as hecleans her wounds, hooking up an IV to rehydrate her body.

“She needs rest and no furtherstrain for at least a week,” he advises when he exits her room. “Until then,Kise, I recommend you not speak with her. She was thoroughly distraught, mumblingsomething about you betraying her. If you were to try to talk to her in thisstate I fear she’ll tear the stiches and go into shock.”

Kise nods his understanding, tearsof frustration stinging his eyes.

The week crawls by but finally hegets clearance from Midorima to seek an audience with her. Initially, sherefuses, but under the surprisingly gentle persuasion of Kasamatsu, relents andallows Kise to enter her room. Her eyes are hard, lips pressed in a tight lineas he enters.

“Say what you want quickly then getout,” she snaps, turning her head so she doesn’t have to look at his goldeneyes, the eyes that melt her.

“_______-cchi,” he begins, taking aseat on the bed, “I don’t know what those goons told you to make you so upsetbut-“

She whips her head to face him,eyes full of fury. “They didn’t do a thing except break my body! YOU broke myheart, Kise!”

“What are you talking about?” hegrunts.

“I saw you,” she says lowly, voicefull of anger, “I saw you that day kissingthat girl and I know you weren’t onassignment! So, who was she? Hmmmm? Your little side whore? Your plaything forwhen I’m away? Tell me! Who was so important that you would throw awayeverything we built together?!”

She’s shouting again, voice drawingattention to the door and Midorima enters with a scowl on his face. Grabbinghers, Kise directs her attention to his own, eyes boring into her with anintensity she’s never seen before. “That girl had an allergic reaction to some ofthe food at the magazine shoot. I was giving her mouth to mouth to keep heralive until paramedics arrived.”

“What?” she breathes out.

“Yeah, it was just her and me andmy assistant at the time because everyone had to go pick up various items forthe shoot. She took a bite of a cream cheese puff thing and it had shellfish init. I guess when you came in was the same time my assistant was in the backally waiting for the ambulance. I never even knew you were there!”

Tears flood her eyes, her facescrunching up as she sobs against his chest. “Ryouta,” she chokes out and hesighs in relief, “I’m so, so sorry! I’m so sorry I doubted you! I…I’m so sorry!”

“It’s ok, shhhhhh. It’s ok,_______-cchi.”

Flying backwards, her head smackingthe headboard she cries out, “Even if I was mad, I didn’t tell them anything! Ididn’t! I…I just couldn’t betray you!”

He kisses her deeply, smoothingdown the back of her hair. “I know, baby, I know. Just, settle down, ok? It’sall ok now.” He looks over his shoulder, nodding to Midorima he has this undercontrol and the doctor retreats, shutting the door quietly. Carefully, Kisesettles into bed next to her, lying down and drawing her into his arms.

“Just next time, stick around toyell at me so you don’t get kidnapped again, ne?” he asks somewhat playfully andshe smacks his arm.

Kissing her again, he sighs intoher mouth. She may be a bit of a handful sometimes, but as long as it’s hishands handling her, he’s happy.

A cry of pain pierces Kuroo’s heart. That’s _______’s voice, callingout for mercy. “I don’t have anything to live for anymore, just kill me, please.”

Her pleas sear his soul, why would she say that? Isn’t he worth living for? Didn’t she believehe’d come for her? That he’d save her? Rushing in, guns blazing, he cuts downthree of her abusers in under thirty seconds. Yamamoto handles the remaining twowhile Lev rushes to get her down from where they’ve suspended her on a chain.

Kuroo sees her clinging to the half-Russian, sobbing thanks intohis shoulder. But when she raises her head and sees him, she goes silent, eyes cold.

“Come on, _______-chan, I’ll take you to Kuroo-san,” Lev offers,turning to walk towards his leader.

“No, Lev-kun, please, just, take me home,” she begs.

“Eh? But he’s right there! Don’t you know how worried he was? Howmuch he cried when we heard you were taken?” he exclaims, setting her down butstill holding her upright.

Normally, Kuroo would smack him for his big mouth but right now,it surprisingly seems to be helping him, because Kuroo can see hesitationshift the fierceness of her gaze. “He…cried?” she asks, voice small.

“Of course he did! Kuroo-san can’t live without you, ______-chan,we all know that!”

“Babe,” Kuroo calls softly, taking slow measured steps towards her,as though he’s afraid she’ll tear away from Lev’s grasp, “why did you tell themto kill you?”

“Eh? You said that?” Lev asks horrified.

“Lev, let’s go,” Yaku snaps, yanking the taller male away.

Her body shakes with the effort to stand but Kuroo won’t touch her,not if she doesn’t want him to. A small whimper of pain draws him closer, armsstretching out in a silent request for permission. She barely finishes the nodbefore Kuroo rushes forward, drawing her into a long embrace. Kissing hertemple, he whispers into her hair, “Tell me why.”

A shudder slices through her body, drawing more winces andstammers of pain but she manages to choke out, “I…I saw you. I saw you withthat girl and I just….oh god, Kuroo I thought I’d lost you and I just didn’twant to live anymore!”

“Saw me with…”he trails off, mind desperately searching for whatshe’s talking about.

Then it hits him. Suppressing a laugh, of relief or mirth or bothhe’s not sure, Kuroo pulls her head back to look in his eyes. “Oh my prettylittle kitty, how could you think I’d ever want anyone but you? That girlwas so distraughtshe almost ran into traffic so I grabbed her and tugged herback before she got hit by a truck. I guess you just saw the aftermath and insteadof talking to me,” he flicks her head making her pout, “you run off and getyourself nabbed in a dangerous territory.”

Kuroo draws her closer, kissing her cheek to avoid her split lip. “You’remy one and only, baby, never, ever doubt that again.”

She nods, throwing her arms around his neck and crying into hisshoulder. He easily picks her up, walking to the waiting car and the rest ofthe gang who all breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of her safe and whereshe belongs: in Kuroo’s arms.