#one of my worst fears is being stranded in not space but just a situation where im helpless wating for death and i know nobody can save me

[organised-disaster]

I just bought the whole pack for Outer Wilds because it was on sale and I'm already having so much FUN!!! I've experienced hilarious situations such as:

Anti-gravity cave! Yay! Down I go and off to the spot that requires repairs! Matching velocity and wait stop why is it moving away come back why am I spinning dear God no eeeesaaauuuuggggggGGGHHHH

Ew ew EW Dark Bramble Seed Ew Ew Ew oh no no mo MY SCOUT MY SCOUT THE ANGLERFOSH NONKNONKOOOOONOOO

To the geysers! And in I g- [blrbrlrbrlebrlblrlggh] oh yaya! A crystal like in the observatory! And it's got its own signal! Quantum displacement? What happens if i- [is subjected to the nightmare chorus] oh

And now we leave planet! Oh a roll function? What does that do? Let's find ou- [timeskip ten seconds, screaming as I spiral out of control into the gravitational pull of the sun]

Oho the universe locator!!! And there is Giant's Deep and the Sun and NOT the eye of the universe teehee and eugh [said with utter contempt] dark bramble

WHERE ARE YOU MYSTERY WHISTLE MAN. I WILL LOCATE YOU BY GETTING UP HIGH ENOUGH AND [exits Atterlock's orbit] oh no. guck. oh heaven help me. please no

I've accidentally locked onto the Interloper instead of Brittle Hollow, guess I'm heading there. [there] Wow this place is Barren™️. Guess I'll hop off now and - [narrowly avoids plummeting into Dark Bramble] WHAT THE HELL INTERLOPER. I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS. WHY NOT DROP ME OFF SOMEWHERE AWESOME LIKE GIANT'S DEEP.

WJERE DID MY SJHIP GO [parked on the Ember Twin]

Distress beacon? What? Oh no, I need to find the source of it before - [the music]

[stares directly at a supernova while accelerating towards Timber Hearth with the intention of cooking a marshmallow and watching the solar system end from there]

Round two hjahaja! Destination one: Brittle Hollow! Now I just need to not plummet directly into the Black Hole That Sends You To The End Of The Known Universe©️ and I'll be good to start exploring! [ship smashes into the surface at 600km/h] nevertheless I am unharmed!

And now I will carefully descend so as not to fall into the Black Hole That Sends You To The End Of The Known Universe©️ and I can be on my merry [smashes into an overhang at Mach 2, corpse falls into the Black Hole That Sends You To The End Of The Known Universe©️]

[bun-z-bakery]

✧. ┊𝐿𝑖𝑔ℎ𝘵 𝘚ℎ𝘰𝑤𝑒𝑟

A/N: I'm backkkk!! I've been reading alien fics lately and wanted to make something with our best boi! it's a silly one-shot but my love for alien!dogday might make me write another:3 P.S. i did some research for this so dont come for me if something is wrong blame google!

Alien!Dogday x GN!Reader CW: injury

The rapid beeping of the ship forced you out of your sleep. The red lights flickered as a warning causing you to head to the control panel to assess the situation quickly. "WOAH!" The ship began to shake violently as you bashed away at the controls, a vain attempt to put your ship back onto course. Crackling can be heard coming from your transmitter "...Co...Ang..." The signal was weakening and you needed to work quickly. "HELLO? I NEED AID IMMEDIATELY!"

You cried as you began to mentally prepare for the worst as you suited up and strapped yourself into a seat.

Your body began to jerk harshly against the restraints of the safety harness. You could feel the air around you getting hotter and hotter as your eyes locked onto the windows turning into a tinted orange as the flames grew from the nose of your ship to the sides... Between those flames, you just barely caught a glimpse of the tiny planet you call home. The distance made you realize how far you were, and alone. Metal began to wail against itself as you felt your last breath leave your body. 

Your eyes flutter open and the flash of a dim flickering light fills your vision before your eyes can adjust. You blink, disoriented and with ringing ears. You're alive by some miracle. Slowly you try to rise to your feet though before you can move a sharp pain violently runs through your leg, making you fall back onto the ground. You wince in pain as you look around "Wait there's... gravity?" Quickly you begin piecing everything together. You never made it to your destination you were now sitting in a completely different orbit.

You remove the now broken harness strap that clung onto your shoulder. The small crack in your helmet almost sent you into a panic. Your breathing was fine however any more damage could lead to bigger problems than being injured in space.

"Mission control... Do you read me?" Your throat croaked. You were desperately in need of water and aid. You were stranded on a planet

with no equipment that could keep you alive and you only had your oxygen tank left to spare.

Your headset crackled and the voice was once again barely audible. "An... Stat... Aid..."

"I'm alive, but I only hav-" The area dimmed as a giant shadow loomed over you.

You ignored the static voice coming from your transmitter. There was nothing you could use to defend yourself. Tears formed in your eyes as you sat as still as humanly possible.

Something was whistling behind you. 

You try to stabilize your breathing as the shadow begins to slowly disappear. You take a sigh in relief yet you still weren't alone. Turning to your left you find yourself face to face with a furry creature. It seems like its stare was out of curiosity rather than fear. The creature was one like you've never seen before. 

It was canine-looking, with orange fur and what looked to be a sun symbol on the darker part of its fur that blended with the lighter parts. Its fluffy ears and tail looked soft, you were almost tempted to reach out to feel them. But what stood out to you the most was its antenna. Orange like its fur but had green at the tips, the same green spots and stripes were also had on its tail and ears. 

It seemed friendly enough, it hasn't tried to hurt you... Yet. "H-hello?" you wave at the creature as it begins to inspect you from where it stands. It chirps as it crouches down and holds your helmet in its hands.

"No no!" you protest as it reaches your helmet. Your injuries prevented you from putting up a fight, you watch as it continues to gently pry off your helmet. You could only watch in fear as you slowly begin to suffocate now from the lack of oxygen. Your body begins to feel like it could explode as your vision blurs. Two furry hands gently hold onto the sides of your face as the blurred sight of an orange blob swiftly pulls your face into its own. 

"What.." you look around in confusion. There the creature was, sitting in front of you cross-legged and smiling back at you. "You startled me there! I thought I had lost you!" 

"You- I can understand you. Wait." you look around and spot your cracked helmet off to the side. You begin to panic yet continue to breathe just fine. 

"You're safe! But you're hurt." 

It puts a furry hand on your head to help calm you. Confused and on the brink of losing your mind you decide to not struggle for fear of making it or him angry. 

You could hear the faint crackle coming from your helmet, you knew what the sound meant. "It sounds worried about you." He begins as he rises to his feet. "Your home... is broken." He looks down at the debris that surrounds you both. 

"My hom-HEY!" You were cut off as the furry creature gently picked you up and began to float. 

"PUT ME DOWN!" You shout as he continues to float away while holding you comfortably in his arms.

"Do you wish to float yourself?" 

He asks cautiously now sensing your fear. His ears fall flat as his antenna droop slightly. 

"N-no, humans can’t float..." 

This must be his first encounter with a human. You think to yourself as you ponder what this discovery could mean for you. You'd have a hand in it, sure. But what about him? What would happen to him if you brought him back to earth with your crew? 

"Good thing we've arrived then!" He cheers happily as he gracefully and gently sits you both on the rough ground, releasing you from his gentle hold. His orange hand points to the sky, you follow his hand and gaze at the sight in awe. Dozens of stars dance around the sky above you. They remind you of the star showers back home as they zoomed past you two and twinkled, you couldn't help but smile at the sight. 

"Beautiful right?" 

"They are," you respond, still in awe as you continue watching. "Do you have a name?" You cautiously ask.

"I was given the name Dogday." A small cloud of dust begins to form as his tail slowly starts to wag in excitement. 

"Do you have a name, little human?" you glance up at him, his antennae begin to give off a faint green glow. 

"My friends call me Angel." 

"Angel..." 

He parrots back in a tone as sweet as honey. You smile at him and he

does the same. Oddly enough you start feeling more at ease. "Do you know where we are right now?" You ask as you relax onto his furry arm. Your gentle movements made his tail wag even faster. "We're sitting on the star home with petals!" 

He answers happily. You tilt your head slightly in confusion but quickly realize what he meant. 

"Petals?..." you were confused with what he had meant. You look around in an attempt to see what he might be referring to, and an excited gasp leaves your lips upon the realization of where you two are currently seated. "We're on Saturn!" 

You exclaim, catching the poor creature off guard. He lets our happy chirp as he mirrors your expression. 

"Humans give names to the star homes?" 

You nod with a hum. Dogday was more than pleased with the conversation and your company. You begin to play with the ground, tracing the ground's rough textures next to your legs. He chirps happily once again upon seeing how relaxed you are now. 

"We do. On my star home, all of them have names!" 

"Your star home?..." 

Dogday looks at you with big puppy eyes. He felt a tug in his chest once he realized you wouldn't be here with him forever. After years of being alone. He felt something he never thought he'd feel again Happiness.

As if on cue, you heard the faint crackle coming from your helmet that lay in the distance. You turn your attention to it however you notice something in the distance. A bright ball of flames sped towards the location where you crashed. It was a rescue crew. 

"I need to get my helmet back and I need you to hide!" You quickly explain as you try to stand only to wince in pain once you move your leg. Your leg was still injured and you didn't want to risk Dogday being taken or worse... 

"Dogday!" You exclaim as he quickly scoops you in his arms and floats you both back to where the debris lies untouched. He gently set you down and helped you put your helmet back on. You fiddled with your gloves, making sure they were still on securely. "Angel!" You glance in the direction of his voice, unaware he left your side. Your eyes widen once you notice he is much bigger than before, his body still shrinking to the size you had seen him originally as he quickly float-walked closer to where you sat. 

"Dogday?" 

"Take!" He has a big grin on his face, and the green hue of his antennae grows brighter. You chuckle as you hold out your arm and he slips on a golden bangle that looks oddly familiar. You examine it once he lets out a satisfied hum. 

"From this star home!" that's when it clicked, it was one of Saturn's "petals" as he refers to them. It radiated a soft glow and had a pleasant chill. Now one of Saturn's rings somehow rests comfortably on your wrist.

"Stay..." His eyes began to tear up, you motion for him to lean down and gently place a gloved hand on his face.

"I have to go. Thank you for this." You stated softly as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. A sad smile crept up on his face as he tapped your helmet. You close your eyes as a soothing sensation washes over your body. 

Once you opened them Dogday was gone. 

You look around for him but instead, you spot a figure above you. It was them, they had arrived. The rescue crewmates began to help you back to their ship. They made sure you were in stable condition and treated you with what they had on board. No human could've survived what you just did yet here you were alive. You look out the small window, watching Saturn become smaller and smaller at a rapid pace. 

The sound of chatter began to drown out as you slowly began to succumb to tiredness. The adrenaline wore you out and the only thing that filled your body now was pain. An orange fuzzy face that startled you as it stared at you. It was Dogday! You wave at him and flash him a warm smile. His face was covered in tears and his lips quivered as he waved at you sadly. He pushes himself away and watches as you fly back to your home planet. Even though your time together was short you can help but feel a tug in your chest. 

Little did you know you had just been courted by the lonely dog-alien.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! I want to get back to being active again so send in those requests! here's all the characters i write for currently!

[morgansmornings]

-Oh sure just let me check for one? Oh wait, of course there is not a horse in here!-

Not that she would voice that thought out loud. There was already enough to be concerned with. Though she could tell just by how he talked about her that he cared for Tily. Something Jayden could empathise with even if the familiar could be a massive pain in her ass. She didn’t think she could have made it as far as she had without the spirit making a pact with her.

“Trust me, if there was a horse in my loft we would have other things to be trying to figure out. I think only you are here. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t safe and waiting for you to come back.” She said with a softer tone that she normally had. Getting up from the couch and casting the blanket aside in order to keep her arms from being restricted. She wanted to keep him as calm as this situation was just as foreign to her as it was him. “Keep still for a minute, I don’t want to hurt you.”

She tried not to think of all the worst case scenarios that could result in her fear coming true. Still she persisted. Placing one knee on the couch behind him she balanced herself in a way that she could see the entirety of the back of his head. Her right hand came to rest on his matching shoulder. Her other hand reached up and starting to card through his hair, doing her best not to pull it free of the bindings or tug on it and causing him pain.

“You don’t know that I am not one.” She countered him. A fond smile hiding out of his sight at the thought of Beth and the years they went to school together. It was often a thing that they joked about. Each taking the day to live the other’s life just to amuse themselves. Being friends since their late teens in college, they knew a large bit of information about the profession of the other.

She did find the bloody strands that surrounded the small scratch along his scalp yet it didn’t look like it would need stitches, which was a relief. There was also a small mound of swelling at the point of contact which was to be expected. When it turned out to be nothing that was critically alerting, she gave a small sigh. Her shoulders slumped from released tension and she nodded to herself. Idly her thumb swiped a few circles into his shoulder before she pulled away from his space. The blanket getting picked up again only this time getting tucked around her hips the same ways she would wear a sarong.

“You have a bit of swelling from where you hit your head. I can see the area where the scab formed so later when you wash your hair out be careful about not opening it back up.” She shuffled back to the kitchen, taking up one of the many towels to wrap a malleable ice pack for him to use. She returned to her original seat, holding the folded towel out towards him. “Take his and gently press on the back of your head. It’ll help the swelling go down.”

“Now, onto the next crisis.”

"Oh, ah..." Never one who enjoyed being fussed over, serious injury or no, Benjamin waved a hand and absently touched the back of his head, testing his scalp for tenderness. A wince tore across his features, but he shrugged. "It's fine," he reassured. "I fell off my horse and must've blacked out."

All at once, a panicked look of realization befell him and he jerked upright, searching pointlessly for his sweet-tempered mare. "Tilly," he said, fumblingly grasping at a couch cushion. "Did you happen to see my horse? She's a white dappled mare, and...well, she's a horse. I'm unsure of how to better explain that."

The idea of the British absconding with his truest companion made his stomach turn, and tasting bile, he attempted to calm himself just as before. Now wasn't the time for feminine hysteria.

Jayden requested to look, and for a moment, all Benjamin could offer was a tight little nod. "Very well," he agreed. "I don't imagine you are a nurse, but it seems I have little choice."

One minor crisis at a time?

He snorted at that, though a faint glimmer of amusement sparkled within his eyes. "One at a time would be nice," he agreed, "but at present, it appears we've been plagued by several." Awkwardly, he shifted towards her, turning around so she could inspect along the back of his scalp. "Do you see anything?"

[xiravynix]

Our car is officially home to mold and mildew and there is nothing we can do to battle it anymore. Being homeless in Florida in a car is the worst situation than many for us. The heat and the small space for the two of us is pushing my sanity to none. It's been three months and I have lost work for being homeless…can't find work to give me full time…we eat once a day. Shower every fucking two weeks. The car has little life in the engine left and we fear what's next when it doesn't crank up one morning on the way to work. We park every night in a Walmart parking lot in which we make it just before dark as we have zero headlights now. So we do nothing with our life anymore as we can't drive anywhere with much fear of being stranded. Our life is dependent on this car for now as miserable as it is. I haven't been able to see a light at the end of this tunnel for a very long while and with that I am losing all joy and happiness and my brain has become mush and swamp. I end my nights thinking about dying a lot more. I start my days knowing there is nothing even to work for through the day. Because truthfully… What little money we gain goes right back into survival. My girlfriend is the complete opposite of me and it doesn't find portrait style into plans to follow me out of state to work for board and room, on a farm, in a hotel etc etc…. I don't want to leave her behind so I remain knowing I am sinking into the very ground below me that bred me as the worthless person I am today. I'll die in my hometown as a homeless nobody and these are my night to morning thoughts. It sucks. I'm physically losing my body to parts of physical ailments I have and continue to gain and this proves I am wasting time away for anymore adventure in me. Breaks my soul. Shreds my desire to keep going. A break to be caught would be: the availability for a room to fucking catch up in life for us. A piece on land to live off of A travel vehicle to gain a secure and peaceful way of living with means to get anywhere we want and or can to continue on without slaving away for no fucking reason. A fucking bullet to end it and not focus anymore on dreams and want that are unattainable. I'm giving up and I know it. I don't have anymore pretending in me left.

[bigilante]

〖 her best friend ❣ zendaya 〗

「 zendaya x gender-neutral!reader 」 ┅ 「 2.7k words 」

: a.n : back at it again with the unsolicited fics :)) i hope you guys like it 👉🏼👈🏼

⤷ : prompt : separated forcefully or for reasons you can’t control, run into each other again years later on accident.

“Do you think they’ll ever stop making headlines calling us ‘very good friends’?” You halfheartedly laughed at yet another Instagram post by some magazine that showed you and Zendaya out and about LA. “Like, the minute you hang out with any guy they’re like, ‘Oh! Date alert!’ But I’m just your ‘best friend’” You were ranting now, unable to hide the annoyance you felt.

“Why does it matter what they say?” Zendaya quizzed, her hands playing with the waist string of your sweats. She looked up at you from her slumped down position on the sofa, her faint frown making you sigh.

“Because... don’t you feel is a bit homophobic?” You wondered, placing your phone face down on top of your stomach to give her your full attention. The brunette just shrugged nonchalantly and you let out another sigh picking your phone again to close the app, “I’m gonna head out.” It was best to just leave then, you didn’t want to get in a stupid argument with her not before you were set to leave for New York the very next morning. You began to incorporate but Zendaya’s hands gripped your thighs keeping them draped over hers.

“Y/n, come on.” She said, gorgeous hazel eyes pleading at you. What exactly? You had no idea but for a second, you were about to give in however a loud ding coming from your phone stopped you. Your eyes scanned the screen and the reminder that had popped up read ‘PACK ! 4 ! N Y C !’, you sent her an apologetic glance before getting off the sofa, gathering your stuff and petting Noon goodbye.

Zendaya had stood up from the sofa too, watching your every move intently, probably trying to figure out if you were upset with her. The truth was, you didn’t know if you were upset with her or with the media, it was possible that both had a little part in your now sour mood. “See you next week, best friend. Love you.” You joked before swinging the front door open and leaving. The week was going to feel like a month, you knew, but the hope that making that simple joke followed by the declaration would ease things up was strong.

But what did hopefulness ever bring if not disappointment and heartache?

Seeing medium-quality paparazzi pictures of your girlfriend as soon as you landed from a five-hour flight wasn’t exactly the way you wanted to be welcomed to New York. You sat quietly in the back of an Uber trying not to cry as your eyes stared at the images on your phone. A series of pictures of Zendaya and Tom leaving her house, —they must had been taken that morning while you were on your way to the airport— the further you scrolled down the Twitter trends the more you felt like throwing up. Them in his car. Tom’s hand reaching for Zendaya’s jaw. Both leaning in. Kissing. Laughing.

It felt like a punch to the face, it was the worst feeling you had ever endured and the people that caused it were the last you would’ve thought could ever dare to hurt you. Your trembling hands fumbled with the settings on your account, privating it and blocking her and Tom, doing the same with Instagram followed by their numbers on your phone. It felt like doing a cleansing, the pressure in your chest easing only minimally when you locked your phone and looked out into the running city. You wanted to scream and cry, break stuff, throw your phone away and not show to work, you just wanted to go hide in your Airbnb for the rest of the week and pretend you and Zendaya never happened.

The reality was that you two had happened and it was far too hard to pretend it didn’t, your heart ached both physically and metaphorically and you hated every second of it. For that week you spent in New York no one shut up about the photos, every person you worked with had that hot, brand new ‘goss’ about the pair that had hurt you so badly.

You sat in the quiet living room of the apartment you had been living in whilst in the big city, laptop sitting in front of you as you cancelled your flight back to LA, changing the tab to the Airbnb’s one to pay for a few more days. You had been holding yourself together the whole time you were there, work keeping you busy and sleeping pills doing their magic at the end of the day but it could only go so far. Glassy, stinging eyes stared blankly at the empty inbox of your email, the cursed images projecting over the blank space and you just weren’t strong enough anymore, you couldn’t, so you cried and choked and screamed until your throat and eyes were sore; until your whole body was drained of every bit of energy.

Little by little you were sweeping your life clean of her, clearing out your phone’s camera roll, changing your number. Deleting social media was a big no for your job so filtering everything and anything that had to do with them was the only option, that and spending little to no time online. You had stopped to think one night of the what-ifs of the situation, you were aware that Zendaya’s publicist wasn’t so happy about you and her dating publically and Tom’s was obsessed with boosting the Spider-man movies at all cost, still, giving you a heads up about it would had been the right thing to do.

For a year and a half, you made yourself busy, going back and forth wasn’t something you enjoyed but it worked to avoid unwanted visits and accidental encounters. Enough time had passed, you thought as you stopped booking in so many clients across the country and settled back in your LA home. “You know what? I could go for a thick, sugary milkshake, right now.” Naomi told you as you put down your half-empty box of fried noodles on the coffee table.

“Are you serious?” You asked incredulous receiving an enthusiastic nod from your friend. “Naomi, we just had Chinese and you wanna wash it down with a milkshake?” She rolled her eyes at you when you pointed it out.

“Fine, what about Bubble U? Bubble tea is Chinese isn’t it?” She offered, her question prompting you to send her an unamused glare. “Yep, Bubble U it is, then!” Naomi jumped up, going straight to the door. Reluctantly you got up from the floor, groaning all the way to the door where you got ready to go out, “Come on! It’ll be fun!” She chirped while she pulled you out of the house. You hated to admit it but you had completely modified your life after the heartbreak, once you settled back home you barely left it, you didn’t attend parties unless it was for work or go out with your friends unless it was at any of their houses. You didn’t walk around the city that often anymore in fear of bumping into her.

“I miss this.” You sighed as you walked down Chinatown with your friend, the coldness of your drink pleasant against the palm of your hand. “Just walking around town.” You continued taking a sip of the milk tea.

“I still don’t get why you had to stop going out with us.” Naomi said inciting you to turn to look at her, “I mean, I know why it’s just… you didn’t have to stop.” She rephrased it giving you an apologetic glance. You knew how much your friends hated the idea of you not being able to be you after the whole thing with Zendaya and Tom happened but it was your way of coping with it and even though they didn’t agree with it, they supported you.

“Well, I’m outside now, aren’t I?” You nudged her side with your elbow making her giggle as she nudged you back. “Maybe this is me getting back to my old self.” Hope laced your every word as you looked around the busy street. The way the golden light of the setting sun washed over the buildings made the outing worth the risk.

LA was the second-largest city in the United States, with a population of nearly four million that one could think the chances of crossing paths with a lover-turned-stranger was one in millions, yet, there you were rooted to the pavement as your wide eyes stared at the tall and thin figure coming out of one of the many restaurants that dotted the street. “Come on, let’s go back.” Naomi said, placing her hand on the crook of your elbow ready to pull you out of there but something inside your chest told you to keep moving forward.

So you did, you started walking again letting your friend’s hand slip away from you. She was quick to follow, whisper-shouting at you that whatever you were doing probably wasn’t the best idea. The closer you got to her the more nervous you felt, it’s been over a year since you last saw her and god, was she even more beautiful than before; long legs clagged in camel coloured trousers, feet sporting her beloved black converse. Her top was white, a little see-through and you cursed at how much it still drove you absolutely crazy in the most irritating sense.

Curls tucked into an elastic on top of her head in a carefree and relaxed way, a few stubborn strands hanging out framing her face and gracing her neck. She was laughing loudly at something Darnell said, that laugh you had forced yourself to forget but the second it hit your ears, you realised how badly you had missed it. Then everything stopped, Naomi’s panicked telling off, Darnell’s chatting and Zendaya’s laughing. It all had stopped but the rambling around the four of you.

You stood in front of Darnell while Naomi stood in front of Zendaya, your friend’s usually amicable attitude disrupted by the scowl on her face as she glared Zendaya’s way only the brunette’s pupils were set on you with no apparent intention of averting. “It’s you,” She breathed out, hope barely perceivable in her tone. You only hummed at the observation, your eyes moving from hers down to her hands that were gripping the long lanyard that held her phone around her neck. Her nerves were evident then, the intensity with which she clutched it seemed to be draining the blood flow from her fingers. “I— How—” Zendaya tried to speak but failed, letting out a shaky breath. “How have you been?”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Naomi protested, you understood where your friend was coming from but you also needed that, you needed to speak to Zendaya just one more time to be able to finally let everything go. You needed her to confirm your theory just so you could move on and Darnell seemed to be on the same page as you for he stepped in between you and Naomi, throwing his arm around her shoulders to guide her away from you two. You heard her object some more but ultimately she complied and walked away.

“I’ve been fine. You?” You eventually spoke after short but agonising seconds of silence.

“I don’t know. There are good days among the terrible ones, so... fine, I guess?” She shrugged a shoulder. With a nod of your head, you looked past her over her shoulder to see a man pointing a camera at you, you were about to warn her when she began speaking again. “Y/n, I’m so sorry about—” Zendaya started but you shook your head no making her stop, you realised then that you did want to talk to her but not on the street in front of that many people and certainly not when there were paparazzi nearby.

“Heard the movie did well.” Your tongue betrayed your brain. Zendaya tried to speak once more but you cut her again. “I’m glad it did. Made it all worth it, didn’t it?” You faked a small smile nearly choking on the words, the anxious lump in your throat threatening to cut your airflow.

“No, It didn’t.” Zendaya denied taking a step closer to you forcing you to hold your breath with the sudden move. “I was a total asshole to you before you left, then Marla wanted me and Tom to do that for a while and I don’t even know why I did it.” She ranted in one breath.

“I upset you.” The statement earned you a furious head shake from the tall girl. “I did. I kept bugging you about the articles,” You carried on, inconspicuously your eyes started to line with tears. The more you talked the more you realised that maybe, just maybe there was a bit of blame in you too, however, that didn’t mean Zendaya was absolved from any. “You never said a thing to me about the stunt.”

“I felt like I didn’t need to, I wasn’t gonna do it.”

“But you did. The morning I left LA.” You mumbled, trying to hide from the second man with a camera that had appeared closer than the first.

“Fuck, I know it was a shitty thing to do and I’m sorry,” She took another small step forward.

“You always told me kissing in public wasn’t your thing.” You exposed, tears irrevocably breaking the surface tension and cascading down your cheeks. Flicking your gaze up at her you saw nothing but hurt and regret written all over her gorgeous face and your heart squeezed at the sight. She had never spoken about it and neither had you asked, you just felt it in your heart that she was scared of how the media would treat you both if they ever found out you were dating, you knew the times had changed but there were still closed-minded people that ran gossip magazines and could make your lives a living hell the moment they caught you holding hands in public or worst, kissing.

The murmuring around you increased, reminding you that you were in a very public place crying in front of your secret ex-girlfriend. “Fuck that.” Zendaya grumbled. One moment she was a small step away from you and the next her hands were cupping your face and her lips were softly pressed against yours. The action took your breath away instantly, still, you found yourself powerless against the familiar taste and feel of her and allowed her to kiss you as long as she wanted to in front of how many people she wanted to. There were yelps and gasps all around the two of you and you started to regain conscience and pulled away.

Wide, watery eyes staring up at the girl mere inches away from your face. “Th-there’s pap—”

“I don’t care.” She whispered before she captured your lips once more, this time deeper and twice as intensely as the first time. Your hands scurried to her waist, bringing her flush to your body as you kissed her back gladly, desperately wanting her lips to make the past year bleep out of your core memories.

The night went by slowly as if the universe was granting you more time to spend in the arms of the girl you loved. She never once let a second of silence go by you, filling it with a whispered apology and a kiss. You talked about everything the time you spent apart brought to both of you, she told you about firing her publicist right after the pictures came out, about how she understood why you had cut her off without any explanation and how bad both her and Tom felt with the whole thing.

Articles flooded the internet that very night as well as the next morning, however, neither of you knew of them right away for any device that could be hooked to a WiFi signal was rightfully turned off while you basked in the presence of each other under the covers of Zendaya’s bed.

“Spider-man Star Zendaya shares intense kiss with BFF, Celeb Stylist y/n l/n in the middle of Chinatown! Swipe to see the pictures!”

It might be 2021 but some things refused to change.

【 thank you so much for reading! ♡ please, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought of this ♡ kit xx 】

[marsbutterfly]

may i request a levi x reader oneshot? maybe like a hurt/comfort something

tyyyy have a nice day <3

Late Night Lullaby

Summary: After a failed mission beyond the walls, you find yourself being unable to sleep. Lucky for you, the door to Levi's office is always open.

                                     Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

Another day, another failed mission outside the walls. Except this time you could still feel the titan’s strong grip around your waist, pulling your body towards its massive mouth. 

The cold sweat mixed with the drops of rain drips down your face, a bit of blood warming them up. If it wasn’t for Levi, at this time you would not even be here, you would be inside the titan’s stomach, your body dissolving before it is thrown back up.

Levi has always made sure you came back alive from every mission, even when you were still in the cadet corps. He would always look for you amongst the dead bodies and, once he noticed you weren’t there, he silently hoped that you were alive and not lost somewhere..

You’ve gotten close to death a good few times but something about this one was different. Maybe how close you actually got to being swallowed or because the only reason you nearly died is because of your own mistakes, either way the fear and guilt are still present in your mind.

Days have passed since then but the horrors you see when you close your eyes are very much still there.

When you realize it is yet again past curfew and you can’t close your eyes without being filled with a concerning amount of panic, you decide to head towards Captain Levi’s office in the hopes that he would be able to provide you with any form of comfort.

Quietly, you knock on the door a few times in a familiarly rhythmic way to let him know you are the one on the other side.

“Come in.” His voice is quiet but firm. 

When you open the door, you are received by the image of Levi’s face being illuminated by the candles. His hair is messy, like he has been running his fingers through it in an attempt to focus, the bags underneath his eyes telling you the story of how he hasn’t slept in days.

“You look like shit.” You say and he rolls his eyes, placing down the papers that once rested in his hands as he turns his head to look at you.

But before he has the time to call you a brat or say anything teasingly in return, he notices the tears in your eyes and the slight tremble on your bottom lip and hands. He sighs heavily before standing up, heading towards his unused bed.

You don’t have time to say another word before he wraps you in his blanket, covering you from your head to your toes. You smirk among the tears and you can feel his arms wrapping around you as he places your face on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, smelling your skin through the cloth of the blanket. 

“I can’t close my eyes anymore.” You say, nuzzling your face against him. Levi lets out a sigh and you can feel as he picks you up. Your head rests on one of his arms while your feet tangle from the other one.

You yelp but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes you towards his bed and places you as gently as he possibly can as if you were a doll made out of thin porcelain.

He places your head on the cold surface of the pillow and you clutch to his shirt, puppy eyes desperately pleading for him to not leave you alone. Levi plants a soft kiss on your hand before bringing his hand to your face.

His thumb brushes against the tears that stream down your cheeks and he whispers, “You’re going to be ok. I’ll be right back with something that might help soothe your nerves.”

When the door opens, a cold air current comes from the hallway made of stone and a chill travels down your skin. You pull Levi’s blanket tightly above your chest while looking for any kind of support in his absence. 

The trees dance with the wind outside the window, the shadows tormenting you. With wide eyes, you look around the room constantly making sure no titan has made its way inside the barricades.

You can still hear it in the distance: the screams of your fallen comrades who lost their lives because you used the wrong smoke signal. Because of a stupid mistake you’ve made in a moment where it mattered the most.

The burden you carry from their lives, how were you allowed to live while their families just lost someone important? How were you allowed to come back when half the bodies didn’t? Why were you the only one?

Once you realize Levi has been gone for quite a while, paranoia starts to settle in and you are convinced something bad has happened to him. The worst part is that you don’t even know where he went so you can’t go looking.

You are fully aware that he is humanity’s strongest soldier but yet you can shake off the anxiety that comes with thinking that he was somehow killed or kidnapped on his way towards wherever he was going.

Even without knowing where he is, you decide enough is enough and the worry is too much to bear. So in an impulse, you drop the blanket from your shoulders and rush to the door, turning the knob and pulling it open in one swift move but there he stands.

Two cups of tea in his hands and the lantern hanging from his teeth, his foot is up in the air as if he was about to use it to kick open the wooden door. It takes a second but you finally realize he needs assistance so you remove the light from his lips. 

He thanks you while you guide him towards the table resting by one of the windows. You place the lantern on the surface, far away from his papers, before Levi hands you a cup.

“It’s a very soothing tea, it’s called…” He says but you cut him off as politely as possible.

“Chamomile.” You smile softly, “How were you able to get this? It’s so incredibly rare.”

“I have my connections in the underground, directly from the stash on its way to the richer families who don’t know anything about appreciating good tea when they see it.” He replies, picking his cup up with the tip of his fingers.

Levi pulls the chair further up a bit as an invitation for you to sit and you gladly take it.

Your image is reflected on his cup and you notice how awful you look: your hair is now a tangled mess, the round circles underneath your eyes seem to get darker by the hour and you can’t even remember when was the last time you had brushed your teeth. 

To keep those thoughts away, you take a sip of the sweet liquid. The warmth brings a comforting sensation to your chest and you feel as if your favorite person in the entire world has wrapped their arms around you.

It takes you a second to realize that he did, in fact, hug you from behind. The tea is still in one of his hands while the other holds your shoulders tightly close to his chest.

You feel the warmth of a few new tears as they make their way past your eyes. He doesn’t say anything nor does he need to, all you need in that moment is to feel protected and cared for and Levi has always been the best at providing you with that feeling.

He puts the cup down before kneeling beside you. He places his hand on your cheek and, with his thumb, brushes away the stubborn tears. 

“You are safe now.” He says and you nod, feeling as he places his forehead against yours.

After moving away, he silently tilts his head towards the tea in your hands. You take a sip after the other until the contents of the cup have all disappeared. Once you place the cup down, Levi takes your hand and guides you towards his bed.

The blanket he once put above you now rests on his lap and he immediately uses it to shield your body from the chilly wind that comes through a crack on the window. 

He wraps his arm around you, gently pulling you closer to him until there is no space whatsoever between your bodies. He is warm but especially his hands which touch you so delicately that you feel like a rare flower.

His face is buried on the back of your neck and you can feel his breath against your skin, awakening butterflies in your stomach in a way you have never felt before. But then again, Levi is quite the master of providing you with new sensations.

You can hear the footsteps outside the room coming from soldiers who patrol the hallways making sure everyone is safe. You can hear the flame of the candle as it dances with the wind. You focus on the sound of Levi’s deep breaths before he begins to hum a melody.

It’s a song you have never heard before and yet it feels so familiar. You feel the vibration coming from his throat and you smile, nuzzling your face against his hand. The melody is soothing and you can feel the peace radiating from the man behind you.

Your eyelids are now as heavy as bags of sand. Even with a wordless lullaby, Levi has managed to wash you with a sense of peace and tranquility. While one of his arms is still wrapped around you, the other reaches for your hair as he plays with the wild strands, combing your hair in the process.

“Where did you learn this song?” You ask quietly and you can feel as he smiles before planting a kiss on your head.

“My mother would sing it to me when I was younger.” He says, “It was the only thing that would help me fall asleep.”

“It’s a beautiful melody.” You acknowledge and he nods.

“Not as beautiful as you.” He says and you can feel a happy smile taking over your lips. In this moment, you have forgotten all about the dangerous situation you had just been put in earlier in the day, all that matters is this moment with Levi. “Blow the candle, let’s get you some sleep.”

You do as he says, quickly returning to his embrace. “Thank you for saving me.”

“I will never let anything bad happen to you.” He whispers softly in response. You close your eyes, focusing once again on his breathing. 

Before you have time to fall asleep, you realize his grip around you has loosen up a bit and his breathing has a little more rhythm to it. You realize he has fallen asleep and you can’t help but smile.

You turn around to face him, carefully moving so he won’t wake up. You plant a kiss on his forehead before nuzzling your head on his chest, feeling as he pulls you closer to him in his sleep like you were his teddy bear.

For the first time, you are able to close your eyes and see a beautiful image of Levi taking care of you and you quietly begin hum the song he introduced you to, only stopping when you fall asleep in his arms.

A lullaby is a song known to put people to sleep and, thanks to Levi, you have now found a way to prevent the demons from your past from getting to you during bedtime.

[creativeashproductions]

Streetdogs and Chest Compressions // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Reader reconnected with her estranged younger brother in the cruelest of ways as the 118 is called the scene of three young men suffering after eating streetdogs. Unfortunately, this is how Buck meets the future brother in law he had no clue even existed.

Warnings: Swearing, family problems (aka estranged), withholding personal information, angst, medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 4.7k

A/N: This fic is a crossover between Julie and the Phantoms and 9-1-1 in which Luke, Reggie and Alex eat the streetdogs in modern times. Don’t worry, someone still dies. Reader’s nickname is Spitfire 

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Masterlist

It seemed Los Angeles was taking pity on the 118 with not even a single fire to be put out or medical needed. It was slow. Painfully slow, and you weren't even halfway through the twenty-four-hour shift. Hen and Chimney had taken the circular table for a card game, Bobby was reading a new cookbook. Eddie's Abuela had brought Christopher to the firehouse for his online schooling, the Diaz's wifi was malfunctioning. Buck and you had snuck off the bunk room to catch some sleep.

"Lazy movie day?" Buck asked with his arms tightly wound around your hips. Your form almost rested entirely on his front due to the narrow bunk.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." You replied to the content man underneath you. You could only hum as he shifted to kiss the top of your head, "Now shh. I want to slee-"

The bell sounded before you could even finish your sentence, "And what I didn't want to happen just had to spite me."

Buck and you hurried to quickly pull on your turnout gear before hopping into the respective seats you used. Eddie across from you, Buck driving with Bobby in the Captain seat. Hen and Chimney in the ambulance tailing you.

"We have three males in their late teens. Ate hotdogs in an alley before collapsing in the process." Bobby informed his team all the while he watched the road, "One is profusely puking, one's unconscious, and the last one is stable."

"Thinking it's food poisoning? That sudden?" Buck inquired with a swift glance from his position of driving. Bobby shrugged in response just as Buck eased the fire truck to a half near a crowded alley.

You were the first one out of the firetruck with your medical bag and halfway to the alley before the team could get out.

"Make some room!" You shouted among the heavily populated area, curious about the medical emergency.

Everything slowed down as you pushed between the last two people into something you called your worst nightmare. Three teenage individuals settled on their sides in unconscious states had been a fixture in your youth. Your eyes stayed pinned on the prone figure of your little brother.

It was like being underwater. Nothing could be heard, and it felt like you were in the process of drowning. It was the first time seeing Luke since you stormed out of your family home back when you were eighteen years old.

It was the same old unchanging story playing for months now with only the new addition of an audience. It was the middle of a blistering summer in Los Angeles, but it was the most heated in the Patterson household. You'd been at the movies with your best friends while your mother, Emily, was putting your laundry away.

Emily's hand had bumped your dresser by accident in her process of closing your socks drawer. The Patterson matriarch and her husband would never invade their children's rooms, but her keen eye had noticed the pamphlet; nothing serious like teen pregnancy but it was surprising.

Emily was holding a recruitment pamphlet for the Los Angeles Fire Department marked with your handwriting. Her heart dropped in sync with the front door slamming shut.

"I'm home!" You called out from the entrance. You didn't hear as your mother wandered into the open space. Her eyes flaring in both anger and fear; when a person is scared, they lash out.

That's what Emily did.

"What is this?"

Your eyes found the item in her hand that genuinely made your blood freeze in your veins. This was not how you'd wanted her to find out about your career decision.

"I'm applying. I graduated high school, and hopefully, I'll be train-"

"Like hell, you will! You're going to college and getting a real job! This won't take you anywhere Y/N Y/M/N Patterson!" Emily snapped just as Mitch came through the back door with your ten-year-old brother Luke.

"What's going on?" Mitch questioned as soon as he felt the tension between mother and daughter. Luke was quiet amongst the adults speaking.

"Your daughter isn't going to college. She's going to be a firefighter.

"Spitfire?"

A smooth hand startled you with the clap on your shoulder and Hen looking at you, "Are you okay?"

"I-" You shakily attempted to speak but alas had to be gently settled on the ground before you keeled over and hurt yourself. Your uniform, long sleeves this time, felt constricting as the guilt nearly swallowed you whole.

"Hey, Cap? I think I know why those three are like that." Buck called out from a sketchy grill by an even sketchier condiments table. The table being a rusted Oldsmobile manned by a greasy dude and his girl.

Even from a distance, you could smell the chemicals wafting off the unsanitary set up that would put a health inspector in a casket. 

"One's waking up!" Chimney spoke from the slump of pink and denim fabric. A curtain of blonde '90s style hair mussed on his head.

"Look, Y/N, I need you to dig deep to help these three boys. They have long lives ahead of them and need our A-game." Hen spoke with her hands, already checking one of the teens for broken bones.

Your eyes closed with a deep breath before you moved towards the boy on the other side. Eddie shifted to allow you room to check him over.

"Strong pulse. Breathing is good." You clinically informed your team, "Eddie can-"

"What happened?" The gruff voice spoke from behind you. As expected, Alex's voice had deepened in the years you'd gone without seeing Luke or his friends.

"You got this one?" You asked Eddie without waiting for a response; you were by Chim's side with a soft smile. Alex's eyes widened momentarily, "Hey Alex."

"Y/N?" Alex nearly gasped in shock. His shock seemed contagious as your entire team from the 118 caught it, "What's going on?"

"You ate some bad hotdogs and needed our help. We're gonna get you to the hospital. I'm worried you ingested battery acid." You spoke, understanding that Alex would prefer details instead of the lack thereof. Even from an early age, he'd been anxious.

"Oh. Are the guys okay?" Alex softly asked with his eye blinking as a strand of his blonde hair caught in his eyelashes. You slowly nodded in response without really knowing the status of Reggie and Luke.

"Eddie, Buck, can you get him loaded in the ambulance?" You called over your shoulder once you'd finished your thorough examination of Alex. The sound of boots on the hard ground appeared before they appeared.

Eddie and Buck swiftly loaded him on a gurney, but Alex's eyes widened, "Why are there two hot guys touching me? Oh my god. Do you see the cute guys too?"

You snickered as Alex's failed attempt at a stage whisper, "Yes. Alex."

"I've been blessed as a gay man." Alex breathed with a cute little grin plastered on his face, "Maybe I should eat more streetdogs-"

"NO!" Eddie, Buck, and you collectively shouted in response to Alex's delirious comment. He was loaded into the ambulance beside Reggie's gurney.

"I'm gonna jump in with the other guy in the ambulance." You quickly informed your boyfriend and Eddie. Each shared a look before Eddie slammed his fist on the back of this ambulance. It rolled away, and you jogged to the one Hen was driving.

Buck was there giving you a hand into the back of the ambulance with one of the other paramedics. You couldn't meet his eye when you were staring at the unconscious but thankfully alive body of your little brother. Your eyes couldn't be pulled away even as the ambulance started driving away.

Buck momentarily stared after the leaving vehicle until it turned a corner leaving him with his crew and questions. Eddie kept by Buck's side on the return to the firetruck in unusual silence. It wasn't often that Buck was quiet.

"What do you think that was about?" Eddie inquired as the truck pulled onto the street to follow the ambulances to the hospital, "Y/N knew the conscious one-"

"-and the one in the ambulance she jumped in. Kept staring at him like he'd disappear out of her sight." Buck supplied, staring out the window to the passing buildings. His blue eyes are unable to focus on the looks Bobby was sending.

Bobby attempted to bring Buck into a conversation, but each attempt was a failure. Neither Bobby nor Eddie knew how to make him feel better or why he was feeling off. 

Whereas you kept a hawk-eye on your brother's stats the entirety of the drive. The ambulance had only just entered the parking lot when his stats dropped. A long beep sounded, alerting you that Luke's heart had stopped.

"Goddamnit." You swore as you started leaning over Luke to start compressions. In order to continue compressions, you clambered into the gurney as the back doors opened.

"Hold compressions!" Eddie exclaimed once, seeing the situation, "No pulse."

You continued even as the gurney entered the hospital, and a doctor was there, "We got it."

You did as the doctor had subtly implied by climbing off the gurney, leaving the medical professionals to continue. You followed your brother's unconscious body to the surprise of the 118; you had never tried to follow the patient. It was more of Buck's issue.

"Y/N, our job ends here. You know that." Bobby spoke with Hen, Chimney, Eddie and Buck flanking his sides. Your e/c eyes shifted between the brown of your Captain's eyes and the blue of your boyfriend's eyes.

"It doesn't end when I just did compressions on my little brother." You informed him, "Write me up. Suspend me if you want, but I need to be in there."

Bobby's eyes softened, "Your shift is almost over. Just come in early on your next shift; you can make breakfast."

"Thanks, Bobby." You softly informed the man who'd become both your boss and a pseudo father. He only nodded in response with your friends beside him with different expressions, "I should get in there."

Without waiting for another response, you'd already entered the ER through the ambulance bay sliding doors. You went straight to the nursing desk with sure steps.

"Hi, I was in the ambulance that brought in a young male teenager. Shaggy brunette hair, caucasian. He was in a separate ambulance from his two friends." You spoke once the head nurse had turned his attention to you, "He was getting compressions on his way in. Name Luke Patterson."

"Are you asking as a paramedic?" Jude questioned with his fingers tapping the keys of the computer. 

"No. He's my brother." You sighed, bringing the sympathetic brown eyes of Jude to look at you. The look changed a degree when he read the sentences on the screen.

"Are you aware your brother ran away from home? There's a social worker on her way."

Your jaw dropped in surprise, "Ran away? He ran away?!"

Jude flinched at the screech of words you accidentally released to both your and Jude's horror in the quiet ER. Jude turned the screen to show a digital missing person's poster with your brother's face on it.

"He's awake." Jude supplied, having deciphered and guessed correctly you'd gone a while without seeing your brother, "I'm off shift now, but I can bring you to him. I'll let the social worker know."

The nerves grew each step closer to the room your brother was stationed in for the time being with Reggie for comfort in the neighbouring bed. Part of you wished Luke would be asleep to avoid the confrontation about to happen. Only Luke's hazel eyes turned to see him in his pause of puking.

"Hey." You softly breathed into the quiet room. Luke's breath caught in his throat, "You ran away?"

"Guess we're more alike than we thought. We both run when it gets tough." Luke's words were all snark and poison to your heart. His hazel eyes glaring into your own eyes with anger that covered up the pain, "Hope this is just a delirious episode."

Your eyes squeezed closer, "Luke-"

"What? Are you gonna apologize for abandoning me? The only reason you're reaching out is that you happened to be the medic!"

You could physically feel your heart clench, "No. I tried reaching out. Mom and dad don't answer the phone. You didn't have a phone, and like hell, they'd give me the number either. The letters and-"

"Excuse me? Ms. Patterson." Both Luke and your attention shifted the entrance. A well put together woman stood with a clipboard, "I'm Beth. A social worker and I'm afraid you aren't allowed to speak with Luke alone."

"I'm his sister."

"Barely." Luke hissed, avoiding looking at you by looking over at Reggie, "I'd like to be alone."

"I can respect that. Here's my number if you need anything, Luke. Seriously, night or day, I'll answer. I know how it was living in that house, but you have someone to run to. Me." You firmly told the stubborn teenager, "Listen to Beth. You can't live on the streets Luke, it's not fair to you or anyone else. I'll ask my friend to keep an eye on you."

Had you not noticed Luke's jaw clenching, you'd have thought he hadn't heard you, "Whatever."

"Beth, have Reggie or Alex's parents come yet?"

Beth nodded, "I'm not supposed to reveal that, but yes Mr and Mrs Peters are talking to the doctor. Alex was moved into a room. They'll all make a full recovery."

You cast one last look at your little brother curled up in the hospital bed, a stark similarity to the night you returned home, only for your things.

It wasn't an accident you chose to return to your childhood home on Thursday night with the schedule on the fridge memorized. Every second Thursday, your mom attended the PTA meetings for Luke's school. Your father would be home but most likely asleep in his recliner, but if he was awake, it wouldn't be bad.

Your father was more lenient than your mother, even if he shared the same mentality.

"I was wondering when you'd come back," Mitch spoke from his recliner with the side table holding his drink. A glass of your mom's homemade lemonade, "Your mom-"

"I'm not staying." You firmly spoke on your way to the hallways where the bedrooms were positioned. You could hear the soft steps of your father's well-worn slippers.

"What?"

"Look, Dad, you can't leave the house, but I can. I'm not staying in this place with her stifling ideas. This is my life. Just because she decided to be a stay at home, mom doesn't mean she gets to make my decisions and live through me." You informed the man while shoving clothing, items, toiletries, among other things, in the suitcase.

"Y/N, firstly, that is not how to speak about your mother. She sacrificed to take care of this family. Luke looks up at you, don't give him a bad impression of our family."

"No."

"If you walk out that door without apologizing, then you are not welcome back until you do so." Mitch's voice came out in that fatherly authoritarian tone. The no-nonsense look in his eye nailing the coffin in your decision.

"I'm not apologizing for choosing a career of helping other people. Of being a step for someone to live and not die. So what if it's not a teacher, a lawyer or some other bullshit 'acceptable' career. I love you, dad. I love mom too and Luke. But I'm not subjecting myself to a desk job with no drive in it."

"Where will you stay?"

"I have a place. I'll call to talk with Luke. I won't 'poison' his mind with ill thoughts of mom. But I won't lie to him either."

Mitch was stock still as you glanced into the bedroom next to your childhood bedroom. Luke's room was still decorated with spaceships and stuffed animals. Your eyes watched the rising of Luke's back as he breathed from his curled up position.

You couldn't help but walk to kneel at his side. Your hand brushed his soft hair from his forehead. You drank in the look of pure content and innocence on his sleeping face.

"Y/N?" Luke mumbled with his bleary eyes blinking, "You're home."

"I have to head out. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay," Luke spoke mere seconds before his breathing evened out once more.

That was the last night you'd been in the home. Luke sat next to the landline phone the next night, waiting for a call that never came. Your parents had unhooked the line. Luke sat on a stool beside it for weeks before his hopes soured.

If only you'd known leaving your parents would mean souring your relationship with your brother. Than maybe you would have reached out for his benefit and your self-proclaiming selfishness

"Thought you'd need a ride," Buck spoke from his position leaning against the wall still in his uniform. There was definitely a new tension in the air between you and him, "We'll grab our things from the house than go home."

"Thank you." You softly spoke to Buck. The weight of keeping your family secret dragged your shoulders down. You couldn't help but wonder if this was gonna cause a fracture in your relationship.

"No matter what. I'll always be here." Buck told you with his arms coming to wrap around your shoulders. He led you through the ER, you'd waved at the shocked parents of both Alex and Reggie, "Who-"

"Luke's friends' parents."

"Okay, so your family lives just outside of the city in Los Felix?"

"Feliz. They live in Los Feliz, from what I know. I haven't been back since I was eighteen." You chuckled, "I want to stress that my parents are abusive or neglectful. Not even bad, but my mom had this idea of what my life should be like."

Buck hummed with his right arm around your waist, and his left casually balanced on his outstretched leg. A bottle of beer loosely gripped in his left hand.

"How old is Luke?"

"He'll be eighteen in August. When I left, he was ten." You mused, leaning into Buck's side, "I think that's why Maddie and I get along so well. We're both big sisters with a significant age gap to our brother."

Buck hummed, "Why did you keep it from me?"

"It hurt. It still hurts just thinking about it. They unhooked the landline the night after I went back for my things." You recalled the agony at having an olive branch snapped off, "I promised to call Luke, and I wasn't able to; they'd disconnected the landline. Imagining the look of hurt on Luke's face was enough to keep me from physically reaching out."

"I wish you had trusted me." Buck finally admitted with the last swig of his beer in the middle of his words, "We're engaged. We're looking at houses, but you never told me about your parents. About your brother. Above your life before the 118."

"Buck. I trust you with my life." You urgently informed the firefighter. Your hands cupped his cheeks to ensure his eyes focused on yours. You wanted him to see the truth, "You are the most important piece of my life. You and the 118 made me feel at home from the moment I joined. Buck, you are my family."

That look courtesy of his parents' actions faded ever so slightly from his eyes, "You guys are my family too."

"I'd like you to meet my little brother when we can reconcile." You announced into the cool summer night. Your drink had been long gone in the process of working through seeing your brother again, "I never thought I'd see him as a patient I'd have to help. Seeing him pale and unconscious nearly destroyed me."

"But he made it."

"He texted me 'didn't die' with the rock 'n roll hand emoji." You deadpanned, recalling the emotional two days for news. You were kinda shocked that Luke had even reached out at all.

Buck couldn't have successfully hidden his laugh if you weren't currently leaning against his body.

"So Albert found an apartment. He won't be moving with us." Buck changed the subject with the same ease he'd always held at knowing you. This was just another one of the moments you were thankful for having him by your side.

"So now there's not a reason to search for a bigger house?" You questioned with a crease between your eyebrows.

In the last two years, several significant changes have been impacting all areas of your life, especially the personal aspect. Buck had proposed during a picnic hike about a year ago with the mutual agreement for a long engagement; his parents didn't believe it was for anything other than pregnancy. Additionally, working in the same firehouse made planning difficult and then your apartment lease bringing the conversation of houses.

Originally Albert would rent part of the home out, so it needed at least three bedrooms.

"I mean, we don't have to not look. We've talked about children and settling down." Buck softly offered with a hesitant smile on his face, "I wanted to talk to you about it, but do you think we could talk about a possible time to start trying-"

"Y/N?"

The two adults went on high alert as Luke wandered into the gated garden your apartment building had. Buck's arm slid off your body as soon as you climbed to your feet at the sight of Luke.

"Luke?" You softly gasped, revelling in the sight of your little brother. Physically he looked fine with the addition of bloodshot eyes, "What's wrong?"

"I-I didn't have anywhere else to go." Luke choked out, sliding the battered old backpack off his shoulder onto the duffle at his feet. Luke's hazel eyes glimmering in the setting sun, "I got into a fight with mom and dad."

"Please tell me you didn't run away again." You heavily sighed in your movement to grab his backpack from the ground. Buck was quick to grab the duffle bag from the ground.

"I'll get the air mattress. Let Albert know not to bring his date home." Buck murmured in your ear low enough only you could hear, "I'll heat up the leftover Chinese."

The Patterson siblings watched as Buck entered the opening to the back of the building's secured backyard. Luke's backpack slung over his shoulder, and the duffle in his right hand.

"How did you find where I live?" You asked the emotionally seventeen-year-old with those puppy dog eyes. The eyes with the colour you wished you had inherited instead of your e/c.

"I saw 118 on the inside of the ambulance. I found the firehouse, and after procuring 'evidence', one of the paramedics told me where to find you." Luke shrugged, "I would have gone to Bobby's garage we use as a studio, but...he bailed on us. Reggie tries to get away from his place, and Alex's are assholes."

"The Peters are still married?" You scoffed, recalling the tense moments between little Reggie's parents. A cloud followed the couple around everywhere they went together, and Reggie was always caught in the middle.

"If-if this overstepping, I can find another place-" Luke began to respond on the walk down the inside hall to your apartment door.

"And make my struggle with the cursed object redundant?" Buck joked from the kitchen with a plate filled with warmed up food. Maybe the universe had a plan when Buck accidently over-ordered food from the restaurant.

"Luke, just stay here. You can have something to eat and rest up. But we need to talk about this. Running away is never a solution to your problems." Your stern voice reminded you of your mother when you broke the rules, "You need to let mom and dad know you're crashing at my place. They don't know my address."

"We got your back." Buck cemented to the quiet teenage boy that he saw a lot of himself in. A little kid living in the shadow left by an older sibling, only Luke's still lived.

"Oh!" You exclaimed with a shake of your head, "I'm sorry. Buck, this is my little brother Luke. Luke, this is Evan, my fiance."

Luke's eyes widened at the title, "Hi."

"Everyone calls me Buck."

Buck, Luke, and you shared stories of your lives in the times you'd gone without each other while Luke ate. By the time he shovelled the last bite of chow mein in his mouth, you'd caught up enough for the time being. He used the shower and settled into the air mattress sheets on the floor a fair distance from the couch Albert slept on.

"So I guess we'll be finding that house anyway?" Buck inquired under the stream of water from the showerhead. His hands massaging the shampoo into your scalp, the action intimate without a sexual motive behind it.

"How-"

"I could see it in your eye. We can see if your parents would be willing to meet up to talk about Luke. Maybe have him stay with us temporarily, give them space without your parents not knowing where he is." Buck murmured as he caressed your sides with his calloused hands. His forehead leaning down on your own forehead.

"I haven't been home in years. I'm not sure how they'd take us stepping on their toes."

"Then we tell them how it is. Their decision drove their youngest child away, and that almost killed him. He's almost eighteen, and then he can make his own legal decisions. Be the person we both wish had been there when we were his age."

And that's what you did. Buck and you met up with your parents at your childhood home to your horror and Buck's delight. He'd never gotten to see pictures of a younger you, but Maddie had brought his baby pictures for you to see the first time you met her. While your mom had fixed some of her lemonade Buck had toured the photos hanging on the wall.

The conversation itself was tense and combative, but in the end, your parents agreed that they'd prefer Luke to be safe than missing. Life was looking up. 

"Hey," Buck murmured with his arms wrapped around your midsection. His blonde scruff scratching your cheek as he slumped over you, "Is that-?"

"Evie's babysitter?" You supplied with a raised eyebrow towards your now husband's laser focus on your brother.

After your relationship with your parents started healing, you had walked down the aisle in white to Buck. You had settled into the dream house with Luke taking one of the bedrooms. The other bedroom put to use when you got pregnant with Evelyn, Evie for short, to your shared joy.

"He likes her." Buck teased, watching the interaction between the two young adults on the main floor of the 118 fire house.

Eight-month-old Evie chewed on a rattle in the arms of her careful hold of her babysitter, but Evie's eyes watched her uncle. Luke, however, was focused on the beautiful and smart girl he knew from high school; they knew of each other but never acknowledged each other. Luke had already graduated when they first came into each other's worlds. Julie threw herself into babysitting to distract herself from both music and her mother's death.

"She's why the band doesn't practice in our garage?" 

"It's a whole thing." You mused with a shake of your hand, "She lost her mom and music. By complete chance, he walked in on her, singing a song to settle Evie. One thing led to another, and Luke formed Julie and the Phantoms with her, Reggie and Alex."

"They formed a band?" Buck beamed, hearing the recent news, "I thought they'd never find their way back to it."

Around the time of your wedding, Bobby had a family emergency involving his uncle Trevor and his cousin Carrie. You'd gone back to work shortly only to be called to the scene of a fatal accident, the victim being Bobby Wilson.

"Julie is Luke's ideal girl. Good with kids, kind, smart, shy, and shares the same passion for music. They bring out the best in each other. They brought music back to each other." You informed your husband with that lovesick grin that was resigned solely for his impulsive ass.

"Kinda like us?"

"Yeah. Like us."

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[weelittleweasley]

love affair (g.w.)

prompt: a relationship with george weasley was all you wanted. but it seemed as though the two of you had two different ideas of what a relationship meant.

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader, fred weasley x fem!platonic reader

warnings: cheating relationships, physical violence, tiny blood warning (literally one sentence), lots of angst, language

word count: 7.5k

author note: this is an amalgamation of me getting out of a very strange relationship six months ago, driver’s license by olivia rodrigo, and two ghosts by harry styles, so take that as you will. this made me sad to write. im so sorry. i also wrote this half tired so if it doesn't make sense, IM SO SORRY LMAO

Knees curled up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around your legs, forcing your body into a coddled position as you sat upon the window sill. Forehead pressed to the glass, the coolness of it made your warm forehead ease with the sensation, condensation fogging up the window pane as your eyes stared mindlessly out of the window. Small mouth sounds fell from your parted lips as you inhaled and exhaled deeply. In the fog on the pane, you dragged your finger across the condensation, drawing little figurines as you attempted to distract yourself from your wandering thoughts that flooded with panic at the news you had received moments ago.

Your pointer finger drew a small heart into the glass before you ripped it away. The sound of a deep tenor rumble resonated outside as small water droplets began pitter-pattering down onto the window. The rain was soothing in contrast to your current state, washing over the lush landscape of the Scottish countryside that Hogwarts castle stood proudly on. 

The rain renewed and refreshed the early autumnal landscape. Water struck upon delicate flowers and reached up to the pale gray sky, accepting the water gratefully. Like a stream in a forest, water rushed down the sides of the Whomping Willow as it twisted and shook off the rain as it poured down. The lush green grass absorbed the water, causing mud puddles to form in pockets across the ground. A smile creeped onto your face as you bit your bottom lip, thinking about how George would insist the next morning that you two go romp around in the mud, behaving like children. George loved mornings after the rain, the way the air was crisp, the smell of fresh dew, the soft ground beneath his yellow rain boots. 

But with the thought of George, your anxious thoughts swirled in your mind like a mixing bowl. You took a deep breath in and repeated to yourself that you would not like to jump to conclusions. This could have been a misunderstanding and Patricia Stimpson had just conveyed the message incorrectly. But the churning in your gut suggested otherwise.

The rain came down relentlessly now, thunder rumbling like a snare drum as darts of lightning flashed far away. The storm was far away, thankfully, which put your mind at ease. 

As a rumble of thunder rippled through, gentle knocks sounded at your door. Rather than getting up and greeting the expected visitor at the door, you lifted your wand beside you and with a gentle flick, the door creaked open just enough for him to push it open all the way.

Entering the room, George closes the door behind him. Without even saying a word, he knows you aren’t yourself. Something was troubling you and it was palpable. The way you curled up watching the rain trickle down the window as you followed it lazily with your finger. George sighs and walks towards you. “Awfully quiet today, aren’t we?” he speaks simply as he takes a seat across from you on the window sill, him sitting criss cross. 

You peel your eyes away from the window and give him a gentle smile as your mind screams to tell him to leave the room, you need space. But when you look at him, your heart swells with all the love you can conjure in your body. He was your George. How could he have done something so unthinkable, but your heart still leaped at the sight of him? You pushed the thought away; nothing was confirmed yet. “Hi, Georgie,” you speak quietly. He scoots closer to you, smile on his lips as he leans forward and presses a light kiss to your forehead. “There’s just a lot on my mind today.”

George peels your arms from around your legs and pulls on them gently, making you wrap your legs around his waist as you huff, giving into his touch. Now, you were wrapped around him like a koala would be, his hands resting on your hips as he brushed a loose strand of hair from your face.��“Would you like to share with the class?” he jokes as you give him a look that tells him you were serious. He clears his throat. “Sorry, darling,” he smiles. “What’s bothering you? You can tell me...I don’t like seeing you upset. Especially if it is something I can prevent.”

How ironic. You rub your eyes with the heels of your hands as you inhale a shaky breath. “I received some news from Patricia Stimpson this morning,” you start as you gently start to peel yourself off of George. It didn’t feel right to talk about something like this while being complete entangled in each other. George gives you a concerned look, a little confused as to why you would be talking to Patricia Stimpson. “She saw something that you did that is honestly quite disturbing.”

Patricia came up to you this morning after you had finished breakfast in the Great Hall with George as you parted ways for the day, him to the library and you to you the courtyard. She had a look of urgency in her eyes as she tapped your shoulder and requested to speak somewhere privately. The two of you sat on a bench in the courtyard as she gave you a sad smile and revealed information that you never thought you would receive. 

Your heart had stopped beating at the mention of the combination of names strung together in that sentence. It felt like your worst nightmare had grown legs and had walked into your life. The news slapped you in the face as you just stared at her when she told you, looking into her eyes that looked at you so sad for you. “You mean to tell me,” you breathily laugh, not wanting to even think that this situation was a possibility, “that you saw George and...Angelina...”

She nodded her head, sadly with a look of guilt on her face. She hated that she had to be the barer of bad news, especially since you two weren’t that close. But she would hate to see another girl struggle to breathe as rumors flooded in when she knew she could have helped prevent the situation. Patricia gulped and spoke, “Snogging, yeah.” The thought makes bile rise in your throat as you swallow hard and close your eyes. “It happened a few days ago. They were in the library in the back. I was trying to return a book and I stumbled upon them. The two of them both froze and Angelina then yelled at me to leave and I did, I was shocked, I didn’t know what to do,” she tries to reason. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

You shook your head and placed a reassuring hand on Patricia’s. “Please don’t apologize. You didn’t nothing wrong, darling,” you give her a weak smile. “There was nothing you could after seeing that except tell me. Thank you for telling me,” you speak as you inhale a deep breath, trying to understand how something like this could have happened.

George went to the library often, but he was usually accompanied by Fred or Lee to talk about the joke shoppe or sorts. He would have meetings every four days. If he had slipped away to do something with Angelina, Fred or Lee would have known. But what really stung was the fact that it was Angelina. Your first friend at Hogwarts. She introduced you to George. She helped set you two up. And now she was the one tearing you apart. 

Patricia starts rambling, “I should have told you when I saw it, but I was scared that I had the wrong twin. That it was Fred and not George, but I could have sworn it was George. It had to have been.”

You speak, “Stop justifying things, Patricia. It’s okay. I’ll, um, I’ll have a chat with George about this I guess. Thank you, again, Patricia. I’ll...see you around.”

When you recounted the events to George, he just sat there and looked at you in disbelief. The way he looked at you with so much pain in his eyes made you feel guilty for accusing him of such a thing. You gulped down a dry swallow and told yourself you couldn’t cry, but that didn’t halt the tears from welling up in your eyes as you inhaled a shaky breath. George still just stared at you in shock. “Please, Georgie,” you beg, just barely above a whisper, knowing if you speak any louder, you’ll crumble. “Tell me it’s not true.”

Your bottom lip trembles and threatens to spill out a sob, but it’s stifled when George pulls you into his chest as you cry into his jumper, taking it in your hands in fistfuls. You let cries erupt throughout your body as George rubs your back soothingly, kissing the top of your head. “Don’t cry, angel,” he coos as you sob into his chest, praying to whoever was listening that this wasn’t happening. “Shhhh,” he hushes you, gently prying you off of his chest so he could look into your eyes.

Looking up at him teary eyed, George cradles your face in hands, thumbs wiping away your tears as you tremble like a child after a sick nightmare. He pressed a kiss to one cheekbone and then the other, where tears fell before he pressed his forehead up against yours. “Never in my life,” he speaks, “would I do that to the girl I love.” The fear evaporates from your body as your shoulders relax and you let out a shaky breath. “I know Patricia claims it was me, but it was absolutely Fred. He’s had his eye on Angelina for a few weeks now. Nice to know that my own twin brother doesn’t tell me when he snogged a girl,” he teases as you giggle lightly. “(Y/N)...” he speaks, his voice trailing off, almost as if it were a warning. “I love you.”

His declaration of love felt more like a statement when he said it. As if you should have known. It was firm and pressing. You shook your head as you smiled lightly, sniffling. It was dumb of you to question George’s loyalties in the first place. He loved you fiercely. “I love you, Georgie.”

And for the first time ever in this relationship, the words you exchanged felt out of place. Misused. But you knew the words still rang true for the both of you after three years of dating. If they didn’t, you wouldn’t have your lips pressed against his right now in a gentle kiss, trying to mend what had almost been broken.

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

A few days had passed since the rain and you found yourself happily walking down the hallway, hand in hand with George. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, making you laugh and slap his chest as he joined you in laughter. George squeezed your petite hand in his larger one before he spoke, “Freddie and I have got a team meeting in the library. We’ve got potential investors for the joke shoppe.”

Your eyes widen as you excitedly push his shoulder. “Investors? Geez, Georgie, why didn’t you tell me?!” you exclaim as he chuckles. “I’m so proud of you,” you beam, gently stroking his cheek before you place a gentle kiss to his lips. “Go on then, go do more exciting things,” you push him in the direction of the library.

George sends you a wink, “I’ll catch you after, alright?” He walks backwards down the hall. “In your room?” he asks as you smile and nod. “Brilliant.”

And with that, he’s gone as you shake your head and continue walking down the hallway. As you walk, you think about how that night between you and George had brought you closer. He wanted to be around you more, he gave you more compliments, he paid close attention to how you were feeling. It was like he was becoming a more attentive boyfriend. A new George, one that you could get used to. 

You lazily walked through the halls of Hogwarts, chatting with people you knew as you passed. Now, you found yourself giggling as you stumbled upon Ron, linking arms as dancing down the hallway. You erupted in a fit of giggles as Ron spun you around and he chuckled. The two of you engaged in light chatter before he offered you a snack from his satchel, a bright red apple. “What is it with your family and always eating? I don’t get it,” you tease him.

Ron shrugs, “Always be prepared?”

You roll your eyes as you continue to walk, talk, and eat as you turn the corner and you furrow your brows. There was Fred leaning up against the wall, chatting to Lee about something before Lee threw his head back in laughter. That was odd. Quite a short meeting Fred and George had. “Oi!” you call out. “Freddie!” You drag Ron down the hallway to meet his brother and Lee as Ron throws a lazy arm around your shoulder, towering over you.

Fred turns his eyes and when his eyes land on you a genuine, happy smile appears on his face. “Oi, is my younger git brother annoying you?” he teases as Ron sarcastically laughs before punching Fred in the arm as Fred laughs melodiously.

“Piss off, Fred. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he sneers.

You turn to Fred again, “I thought you and Georgie had a meeting about the joke shoppe. I was just with him like twenty minutes ago and he said he had to run.” You were genuinely curious and also confused. You thought an investor meeting would take more time than just a mere twenty minutes if it was a serious offer. 

Fred shakes his head and tucks his hands into his pockets. “No,” he speaks, brows furrowed, confused as to why his brother would relay false information to you like this. “We have a meeting about the shoppe every other week. Our next meeting isn’t for another week.” Lee looks at you, puzzled, looking back and forth between you and Fred. There was something wrong. 

Your heart sinks and your mouth goes dry. Ron watches your face drop from an excited smile to the color of parchment. He places a cautious hand on your shoulder. Before he can ask you how you’re feeling, you speak up, “Freddie,” you gulp. “This is going to sound like a weird question, but I need you to be brutally honest with me.” Fred looks at Lee completely puzzled before looking at you. “About a week ago, did Patricia Stimpson walk in on you snogging Angelina in the library?”

Lee cackles, “He wishes! Angelina Johnson wouldn’t go near our poor Fred with a ten foot pole!” Lee claps Fred’s shoulder as Fred shoots him a glare, making Lee pipe down immediately. Now was not the time to joke around. And that really meant something when it came to Fred Weasley.

Your heart sinks further and your chest starts to rise and fall with anxiety. The big red apple that was once in your hand fell to the floor and rolled away. Something was gravely wrong. Ron peels his arm off of you, knowing that you need space as you anxiously look between Fred and Ron and Lee, trying to figure out where George could be then. If he wasn’t with Fred or Lee or you, then that meant he was alone. Or...

Fred looks at you and takes a step closer to you. “(Y/N),” he speaks, approaching you with caution like you were ticking time bomb. “Look at me,” he speaks, placing both of his hands on your arms as you look upwards at him, fear in your eyes. “Where did my brother tell you he was?”

Breathing heavily, you open your mouth and no sound comes out at first, just a squeak. Fred’s eyes soften, concerned for you and moment away from kicking his brother’s teeth in. His eyes coax you into trusting him with the information you have. Finally, you manage, “In the library, with you, talking about investments for the shoppe.”

Without another word, Fred takes your hand in his and speaks directly to Lee. “If George doesn’t come back to the room tonight, don’t go looking for him,” he speaks through gritted teeth. “Ron, stay here. We don’t need more attention to the scene we’re about to cause. Or should I say, I’m about to cause.” 

Before anyone can object, Fred and you are now walking, more marching, down the halls of the castle to the library to hunt out George. Panic and fear are pumping through your veins as Fred radiates pure fury. Fred and you were always very close, even more so after you and George had started dating. In Fred’s eyes, you were like another sister to him. He felt the overwhelming need to protect in a way that was different how George protected you. Fred knew the inner workings of your mind like the back of your hand. You were the first person he came to when he had a problem and vise versa. Fred was your friend and a damn good one at that. He hated seeing you upset, especially if he knew it was the doing of his own twin. 

“Freddie,” you breathe out. “Patricia came to me days ago and told me that she saw them, but I didn’t believe it. He had told me that it was you and that you had a thing for Angelina for a while and I believed it because I have always trusted George. But now I-”

Halting dead in his tracks before you walk into the library, Fred grabs your shoulders and spins you to face him. “Listen to me, (Y/N),” he commands your attention. “I love my brother. He’s my other half. But something he can be that the guy who is down right dick. And if he did, or is doing, what we’re thinking, then he’s even worse than I had ever imagined. And that is on him.” Fred’s words bring you peace, but also a wave of nerves. Could George ever be unfaithful? Did the relationship have that many cracks that he allowed himself to slip through one? Fred’s brown eyes that looked so like George’s stared into yours as he gave you a smile. “You’re the best girl I know and George is a fucking idiot if he’s letting you go. Regardless of what happens in there, I am your best friend first and foremost. I’m here for you no matter what he does.”

You nod your head and sigh before pulling Fred into the tightest hug you’ve ever given anyone. With all your might, you hold him close as he sighs and hugs you back, knowing the outcome of this situation before it had even unfolded. Fred thought to himself how could his brother be so selfish, so childish, so moronic to do what he had done. There was no going back now. You can feel the hot tears stinging the back of your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. You were still clinging onto the last bit of hope before you entered the library. “Thank you, Freddie.” 

His arms gave you one last squeeze before taking your hand in his. “Are you ready?” he asks, eyes genuinely searching yours for your answer. Fred was ready to go in there without you to confront his asshole twin and your once best friend, yelling and screaming. Rage was pumping through his veins, but he tried his best to conceal it in front of you. Fred didn’t want you to see him like this. 

With a weak nod, you inhale a shaky breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two of you walk into the library and you feel your heart drop into your feet when you step in. You didn’t like the way the library felt in this moment. It was cold and hot at the same time and you felt stifled. But that didn’t stop you from chaotically walking to the back of the stacks to find your boyfriend. 

You peer down aisles trying to find that familiar tuff of red hair, but all you find are diligent students reading, some joking around with each other, others peering through the stacks to find books. “Where the bloody hell...” you whisper to yourself, growing frustrated that you couldn’t find George. Your nervous energy was now being channeled into anger as you balled your first beside you.

Before you can flip around and ask Fred where he thought his brother could be, you hear a familiar low voice and girlish giggle from behind you. You look at Fred, your eyes wide and stomach churning. Fred opens his mouth to say something, but you are already walking to the back of the library to find exactly what you expected.

The red haired boy your heart belonged to was now pressed flushed against your once best friend, lips connected to each others as her fingers played with the hair that stuck up on the back of his neck. George’s hands were placed on her hips before running down her sides to squeeze her bottom cheekily as she giggled. You inhaled a sharp gasp at the sight, wanting to vomit at the sight of George and Angelina pressed up against each other like this. Your mouth hangs open as the detach themselves from their embrace, faces falling from smiles to sheer horror. 

“Fucking hell,” you breathe out, the tears that threatened to fall outside now flowing down your cheeks freely. You feel Fred’s presence behind you as George and Angelina’s eyes dart between you and Fred. Angelina stutters for a moment as George’s hands fly off of her body and into his pockets. “So is Angelina your potential investor?” you ask, bottom lip trembling in horror as Fred steps right behind you, placing his hand on yours giving it a squeeze, letting you know that he is right there with you. 

George steps away from Angelina and Angelina fumbles with her words, “(Y/N)-”

You scoff, “Oh, shut up, Angelina. You have no excuse. You were supposed to be my best mate, but instead you decided that you’d rather fool around with my boyfriend behind my back, eh? Some fucking friend you are.” 

Angelina’s face contorts with sadness and guilt as she looks down at her feet, playing with her fingers. “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” she tries to defend herself. 

With pure fury rushing through your veins, you laugh. “Well, I’d bloody hope you didn’t plan on it!” you exclaim. “I always knew you to be competitive, but not like this. This is low. Even for you,” you shake your head before looking at George who has guilt slapped all over his face. He opens his mouth to say something, but you stick up your hand. “Don’t even say anything to me. Don’t you dare even look at me. You’re a liar and a cheat and loathsome. I hope you’re happy. Angelina, he’s all yours.”

You turn away and let a hand fly up to your mouth to conceal your sob as you run out of the library with Fred draping a protective arm around your shoulder. “Come on, now,” he whispers to you as some people notice your state. “It’s over. They’re both done and that’s it. You can cry, darling, it’s alright.”

Fred whisks you out of the library quickly and the moment you step down the secluded hallway, you collapse into Fred’s arm as he holds you, brushing your hair calmingly. The sobs rake through your body, causing it to tremble hopelessly in his arms as he holds you tight. Seeing you like this filled Fred with rage as he kissed the top of your head as he allowed you to cry into his chest, holding onto him for dear life. You sob and mumble things into his jumper as he nods his head. “I’m here, it’s alright.”

That’s when you hear his voice. “(Y/N), please let me talk,” George pleads, pain evident in his voice, but immeasurable to how you felt in this moment. You don’t dare look at him, burying your face deeper into Fred’s chest as his grip grows iron on you.

“Back off, mate, haven’t you hurt her enough?” Fred defends you as he rubs your back. “What has gotten into, George?”

George’s jaw clenches and his fists bundle up beside him. “Piss off and let me talk to my girlfriend, Fred,” he speaks through gritted teeth. “Please, (Y/N),” his voice changes when he addresses you, more gentle and coaxing as you sob harder into Fred’s chest. “I need to tell you my side of the story.” Fred laughs as you peel yourself from him, wiping your eyes, hot with tears. “There’s no explanation needed, dear brother,” Fred sneers at George who with a sarcastic smile presses his tongue to his cheek in sheer annoyance. “She caught you in the act. What are you going to explain? How your tongue accidentally found its way into Angelina’s mouth?”

George takes a step forward, challenging his brother. “Shut the fuck up, would you?” he bellows, anger in his eyes as Fred doesn’t back down, unafraid of George. You watch as the scene unfolds in front of you, still sniffling. “All of a sudden you’re interested in my girlfriend? You trying to scoop her up while she’s vulnerable?” he pushes Fred’s chest.

“Scoop her up?” he pushes back. “Are you mental? And if she hadn’t made it clear already, I’ll do it for you. Ex-girlfriend. She’s your ex-girlfriend,” Fred corrects his brother. “Not to mention, (Y/N) has always been my friend, even before you started dating. I’m not trying to scoop her up, George, we’re friends! I will always protect her! Especially when you fail to do so,” he spits at George. 

That’s what sends George over the edge. With a yell, he sends a gruesome punch to Fred’s jaw who nearly falls over from the blow. “Godric, George, stop!” you yell out at he goes for Fred again, but Fred sends a punch to his twin brother’s nose as George stumbles back, blood trickling down from his nose. 

People start to notice that the twins are now in a full on fight, grabbing and swinging at each other as they yell profanities at the each other. A crowd starts to trickle in, cheering on either side of the boys as you watch in horror.

“Fucking hell, get off of each other!” you scream as you grab Fred’s arm as he holds it up to send another punch to his brother’s nose. “Knock it off, you fucking dickheads!” you throw yourself in front of Fred as George and Fred catch their breaths, chests heaving. “Can we not make this a public affair?” you scream again, gesturing to the small crowd that has formed to witness the Weasley twins having it out at each other. “We can talk about this in private,” you say in a hushed angry tone to George. You turn to Fred and take a look at his face, no blood, but definitely lots of bruises and a split lip. “Episkey,” you wave your wand at his face, sealing his broken lip as well as managing to take away some of the swelling of his eyes. 

Fred hisses as his face stings as it heals. “You don’t need to talk to him, (Y/N). He doesn’t deserve to hear what you have to say,” he sneers at George who takes another challenging step at Fred.

You hold Fred back again and hold a warning finger to George. “Don’t you dare. You’ve already hurt enough people today,” you spit at him who immediately retaliates. You speak to Fred with a soft, calm smile. “I’ll be okay. I can handle him, Freddie,” you insist as Fred gives you sad smile.

Slowly looking away from Fred, your eyes land on George as your heart breaks at the sight of him. He wiped his bloody nose on his shirt sleeve as he glared at his brother, eyes eventually trailing to you as his glare fades into a guilty look. The brown eyes that you loved so much suddenly made you feel cold and alone as you inhaled a shaky breath. George tries to offer you his hand to walk somewhere more private to discuss things, but you just scoff and walk past him, letting him follow you. The audacity, you thought to yourself.

The two of you walk into an empty classroom as you close the door behind you and leaning against it, arms folded in front of you as you glare at George. You could feel yourself wanting to cry again, but you refused to let him see you cry again. He wasn’t worth your tears. Instead, you let rage course through your body instead of sadness. 

George gulps before speaking. “I never wanted this to happen...” he trails off.

“No, you never wanted to get caught,” you correct him as he lets out a disgruntled sigh. “I never thought you would ever do this to me, George. Nevertheless, do it to me with my best friend,” you shake your head. “I thought that if you didn’t love me anymore, you would at least have the decency to tell me,” you throw your hands up in defeat. George remains dead silent. “But somehow, you thought this was a better option.” He quickly replies, “It just happened, (Y/N)!” You furrow your eyebrows. “We were in the common room one night, studying for an exam and we started talking and then for some reason, one thing lead to another, and we kissed,” he admits as your heart breaks. So they had kissed before the time Patricia caught them in the library. This wasn’t a one time mistake he made. George had repeatedly kissed Angelina. Godric knows what else they did. “It was a huge mistake, (Y/N), and I’ll never forgive myself for it. You mean so much to me,” he tries to rationalize with you, begging at this point.

You just scoff and say, “A huge mistake that you did again and again and again. If I hadn’t caught you in the act, you would have kept seeing her, wouldn’t you?” George just shakes his head and gulps, taking a step forward. “Don’t lie to me, George...not again,” your voice cracks, but you refuse to cry. “Instead of telling me how you really felt, you kept telling me you loved me.”

George takes your hands in his and speaks, “I have always loved you, (Y/N). None of that was ever a lie.” Your eyes search his eyes, searching for a truth. Something to tell you why you should stay with him. But instead, you found nothing. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he whispers, tears filling his eyes as he truly feels sorry when he understands what he losing. “We’re just not who we used to be, I guess,” he shrugs his shoulders, trying to shift the blame on both of you.

Pulling away from his hands, you spit back, “No, you’re not who you used to be.” You shake your head. “In fact, I don’t know who you’ve become. But you’re not the George I fell in love with,” you take a deep breath in as George’s heart breaks. What George did really ripped your heart out of your chest, but this is was ripped it into a thousand pieces. Leaving him. “Goodbye, Georgie.”

George shakes his head, “(Y/N), please don’t.”

But you were already gone.

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

Being without George for the first weeks of the breakup were difficult. You missed his touch, his voice, his eyes, his laugh, his smile; you missed it all. Even though what he did rung your heart out, there was a part of you that missed him more than words could say. 

People took notice immediately about how you didn’t sit next to George during meals in the Great Hall or converse to Angelina in between classes. This all earned you sorry glances in your direction as people found out what happened. It was embarrassing, having everyone know exactly what went down between you and George and Angelina.

You tried to distract yourself with other friends and schoolwork and other hobbies to keep yourself from thinking about George. But somehow, you always thought of him and how he so harshly betrayed you. No matter what you were doing, something had made you think of him. It came down to the point that you had to distance yourself from Fred, your closest friend after Angelina, because just the look of him made you think of George. That fact that your best friend had to be the identical twin of your cheating ex-boyfriend was enough to drive you mad. 

But after a few weeks of healing and distancing yourself from everything that reminded you of George, you finally decided you couldn’t let him prevent you from seeing Fred. Fred was not only George’s brother, but your friend and you were’t going to let that stop you. When you had seen him for the first time since you and George broke up, tears welled in your eyes, you missed him so much. Fred gave you the tightest hug and profusely apologized for his brother’s behavior. Fred was insistent on helping you in every way possible to move on from George; he wanted you to know that no matter what he would be there for you, no matter if it was his twin who had done the damage or not.

Fred along with the help of your other friends helped you get over George and move on. They helped you regain your confidence and have fun and you couldn’t be more grateful. Soon enough, George was the last thing on your mind. His presence in a room no longer made you sad, the mention of his name didn’t make your heart stop, and the sight of him didn’t make you miss him. You were over George Weasley; something you never thought you would be able to say.

Even though you were over George, you didn’t think that you would date someone else after four months after your break up. But funnily enough, you were. The relationship that had blossomed between you and Roger Davies started as something very innocent. You had always been friendly with Roger, but not very close. So when you had initially started studying in the library, you didn’t think it would lead to hanging out in the courtyard, to your first date to Hogsmeade, until your first kiss on the moving staircase. 

Roger was so refreshing. He was gentle and kind and shy, but he was affectionate and loved showing you how much he truly cared for you. He would be in the hallways with his friends and spot you across the way before running over to place a quick kiss on your cheek before running back to his friends. Or he would see you studying in the library alone and then immediately find the chair next to you to keep you company. It was the little things he did that made you feel so loved.

When word got to George that you and Roger started dating, he was didn’t take the news well. Unlike you, after the breakup, George wallowed in his guilt and couldn’t stop thinking about how foolish and careless he was. He cursed himself for letting he and Angelina share that kiss on that late night in the common room. He hated the fact that he let himself come back for more when he had someone like you in his fingertips. Someone who loved him fiercely and would do anything to prove their love. When Fred told him the news about you and Roger, George sat there with sad eyes and dryly gulped. “Why him?” he spoke. He was sad, angry, disappointed, jealous at the fact that Roger had just scooped you up. 

“She found someone who she cares for and who does the same,” Fred tells his twin. “You should be happy she found someone like that after how the relationship ended with you two,” he tells him as George just closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I know you miss her, George, but it’s over. You messed up.”

George just looked at his brother with the most pained look on his face. George knowing that he hurt you in a way unimaginable sat with him like a rock in his stomach. “It was the worst thing I ever did, Fred. I fucked up big time and I can’t fix it. I really can’t fix it this time,” he spoke, pools welling up in his eyes as Fred gave his brother a sympathetic gaze. “I really messed up, Fred.”

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

Winter break rolled around and it would be your first holiday with Roger, but the first holiday without the Weasleys. The thought made your stomach churn. The Weasley family took you in as their own the moment they saw you. Molly and Arthur felt like a second set of parents and you were so grateful that you always had a home with them. You sadly smiled at the memories of the Burrow and the holiday season. You had spent the past four Christmases with the Weasleys and each year just got better and better. You had thought your seventh year would be the best yet, but you had to cast that thought away before you grew sadder.

Shaking away the thoughts of the Burrow, you smiled at the thought of spending the holiday with Roger and his family. You were more than nervous to meet his parents and his older brother, but Roger made it abundantly clear that his family was thrilled to meet you. “I’ve talked to my mom about you before and she is so excited to meet you. She says you sound lovely,” Roger kissed your forehead as you danced nervously around your dormitory room. 

You gave him a nervous smile. “I just really want them to like me,” you shake your hands nervously as he takes your hands in his, laugh gently at your nerves. “I’m serious, Roger. I love you and I want your parents to know how much I care for you,” you stand in between his legs as he sits on your bed.

Roger smiles and kisses your nose gently. “They’ll love you because they know how much I love you and how much you mean to me. Let’s be honest, though, what’s not to love about you?” he pokes at your sides as you giggle.

And he wasn’t wrong. Roger’s family was so warm and welcoming to you. Practically the moment his mother spoke to you, you saw how kind and lovely she was and how the whole family took you in instantly. You couldn’t be more grateful to have a boyfriend who had a family that was kind and welcoming like the Weasleys. 

On the first night at Roger’s home, you laid in bed next to Roger as you played with the hem of his jumper. “My family bloody loves you,” he whispered to you with the largest smile on his face. You smiled wide and pecked his cheek. “I’m serious. You even impressed Chester and that’s not an easy feat,” he refers to his older brother. 

You beam, “Your family is wonderful. Truly. I love them already and it’s just the first night.”

“It’s only going to get better from here,” Roger wiggles his brows as you giggle before he presses his lips to yours.

When the Weasley students arrived home from Hogwarts, they were all tightly embraced by Molly Weasley who peppered each of her kids’ faces with kisses, making them all lovingly groan. “Ah! Harry, there you are,” Molly beamed as she kisses the top of Harry’s head. “Good to have you back home again, my dear,” she spoke before doing the same to Hermione’s head and giving her a tight squeeze. Molly looked around the living room, searching for something or rather someone. “Where’s (Y/N)? Georgie, did you leave her at Hogwarts as a mean prank?” she teased before noticing her son’s hollow face and everyone tense up as Molly spoke of your name like it was You Know Who. “What happened, Georgie?” she looks at her son with a stern look in her face. She knew something was very wrong and she had a bad feeling about it.

George gulps before saying, “(Y/N) and I broke up, Mum.”

Molly’s face drops with sadness before looking at Arthur whose face resembles Molly’s. “Really? Oh my dear, I’m so sorry, Georgie. (Y/N) and you seemed so happy. How did it happen?” she implores as George stiffens and Fred sighs and rubs his face.

This is the part that George Weasley was dreading; the reason why you split up. Everyone else in the room was scared for him too, Merlin’s sake. With a deep breath, George said, “Um,” and swallowed hard. “I wasn’t a good boyfriend, Mum. I betrayed her trust.”

And that’s when Molly’s face dropped into a serious expression. Molly always taught her children how to care for others and always be loyal to the ones who treat you with love. George’s behavior spoke a different story. “George Fabien Weasley,” she shook her head. “I thought you knew better,” her heart broke for you and it hurt her to know that one of her own boys did that to you. “Your father and I taught you better than that,” she told him with a disapproving look on her face.

It was all she needed to say in order to make George feel more disappointed in himself than ever. He sadly looked to Fred who gave him a sad smile. Losing you was the worst thing he’s ever done. He not only lost you, but he made his parents feel disappointed in him. You meant so much George and he threw that all away for a silly fling that he could never take back. George nervously bit down on his lip before huffing his way up the stairs, needing to be alone with his thoughts for a while. 

The Weasley siblings dispersed throughout the Burrow as they all felt the strange shift in the energy of the house. The house was feeling the weight of your absence. When everyone was in the Burrow, the home was full of life. But with you gone, it was like one piece of the puzzle was missing and wouldn’t be found. 

As George opened the door to he and Fred’s room, the memories of previous holidays flood George’s mind. The two of you laying on his bed, him on his back, you on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair. He would steal kisses from you every now and then and poke at your sides, making you giggle wildly. George would hold you close in his arms and whisper how happy he was that you were with him. You would pepper his face in kisses, telling him how much you adored him in between pecks.

The memory made him smile as he entered the room, the more he walked in, the more memories resurfaces. He thought of the time you two watched the sunset out of his window, or the time you two laid on your back on his floor and reread a muggle book of yours, or the time he told you he loved you for the first time in the middle of the room on Christmas Eve all those years ago. 

“You alright, mate?” Fred’s voice interrupts George’s thoughts. Fred gives is brother a sad look. “I know it must be hard this time of year, George,” he puts a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “But you’ll be alright. And so will she.” George shakes his head sadly. “Listen, George, even though what you did was still very wrong, you’re my brother and I love you. I’m here for you.”

George gives his brother a sad smile and shakes his head as if to say thank you. He looks Fred in the eyes and just shakes his head, “I want the best for her, Freddie. I want to be the best for her.” George has tears in his eyes and chokes lightly on his words.

Fred’s heart hurts for his brother. George rarely cried in front of Fred, he usually liked to be alone if he was going to cry. He didn’t like Fred seeing him upset. But this was too much for George to hide. Fred holds his brother’s arms and speaks, “I know, George. I know. But right now, what’s best for her is space. You both need to be away from each other. That’s what’s best for both of you.”

That made George realize that his brother was very right. As much as he hated to believe that you two couldn’t be together, George knew it was true. And he would have to be okay with that.  

[thefanficmonster]

Lucky Me (Sequel To Unlucky)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You aren’t always born with luck. Sometimes, you meet people who bring it to you. In short, they are your lucky charm.

Requested: Yes, but not in a typical way. A big thank you to all the wonderful people who read, liked, reblogged and commented on part one - Unlucky.  

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  and many more ❤❤❤

They are the reason this story is being written. What was originally supposed to be an elaborate one-shot turned into the most liked piece I’ve ever written. I can’t thank you enough, guys. You are amazing and I hope you like this one just as much or even more than the previous. Love you ❤❤❤

Y/N’s POV

I’m grinning at my reflection in the mirror as I put on a pair of earrings. My face is already touched-up with a little make-up and my hair is looking on point. I can almost see my own reflection in the shine of excitement in my eyes. I take in my upper body via a quick once-over in the full body mirror opposite me, and I finally relax my muscles that I didn’t ever realize I was tensing.

“OK, now I’m ready.“ I say as a form of encouragement as I reach behind me for my phone that’s sitting on my bed.

You might be wondering where I’m going? Who I’m going with? What’s the occasion behind this many preparations and pampering?

The answer: Nowhere. No one. Nothing. I’m literally not even going to leave my house.

It might seem ridiculous to someone else, but to me, to my hypnotized mind, it’s perfectly reasonable to be getting so amped up over a FaceTime call. Yeah, you heard me correctly - a FaceTime call. 

Well, you see, this isn’t the first time we FaceTime, but it will be the first time we’ll see each other’s faces. I wanted to level the field so I didn’t let him on to what I look like, where exactly I live, etc. Basically, he only knows my name, which I am still prepared to call unfair, considering I don’t know his real name. 

A brief backstory to my first ever real interaction with Corpse: I was introduced to him by my friends. They are the ones I always turned to with all the scary shit happening in my life. Often times they didn’t know weather to comfort me or laugh at my curse. My friends suggested I start sharing it to a youtuber named Corpse Husband. You see, I love YouTube narrators and I’ve always been a fan of Mr. Nightmare and I, to be perfectly honest, always kept the idea of sending him my stories in the back of my mind. Nevertheless, I bit the bullet and checked out on of this Corpse Husband guy’s videos. And then another. And another. And before I knew it I was having a marathon after which I was too paranoid to get online, walk home alone at night, leave my curtains open etc. It wasn’t all thanks to the stories themselves. A lot of the fear factor these stories strike with should be credited to the way they are read. Let me tell you, this guy had it all figured out with the reading. Not sending him my stories would just be wrong. So I did, I sent him my first ever creepy encounter which was with a stalker from my high school and it took me only two days to forget about it. It only crossed my mind when my friends blew my phone up, demanding I watched Corpse’s new video. I kid you not, I got more scared by the story when he read it than when I lived it. That’s what settled it for me - I decided to send him each and every story.

And then one day, out of the blue, my life changed for the better in more ways than one. It got turned completely upside down, like a rollercoaster, and I just had to hold on and enjoy the ride, embrace the adrenaline rush and excitement, knowing full well that I chose to get on and there’s no way I can get off halfway through. 

I’m being too metaphorical. He sent me an email. He freaking reached out to me. And I was posed with a rough choice. Took me a minute, but I chose to reply to him, I chose to trust him, and I couldn’t just leave him on read one day simply cause I chickened out. Yes, I’m unlucky and these things don’t happen to unlucky people. I mean, they do, but they are nightmares disguised as a dream come true. I’ve lived all my life cautiously: if something sounds too good to be true it’s either not as good as marketed or not true at all. If it’s dark and late and there are no people around, FaceTime someone. If your Uber driver’s sketchy, cancel the ride. I take all the precautions and I still find myself in the worst situations. Or at least...

My thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of my phone. A simple ringtone I hear every time he calls me. A simple sound that causes me butterflies when I hear it and ultimate devastation if the caller ID doesn’t read the name I want. It always gets me excited, probably more than it should. This time is different, however. It’s scary almost. I’m nervous, anxious, scared, hesitant - all things I never feel when I’m about to answer his call. 

With shaky hands I pick up the call and find myself looking at the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Now I know why I would have never initiated this meeting, because I know what color my face is right now. I know my voice has let me down before I even attempt to speak. I know I look like a mess. I know my obvious crush is showing.

Corpse initiated this meeting. He said he was getting too curious and he wanted one of his best friends to see him and for him to finally see her. It’s been about seven months since we first started texting and I haven’t let out a single peep about it to a single soul. It’s just between him and I. We are each other’s safe space away from the rest of the world.

“Thought you weren’t gonna pick up for a second there.“ His voice is not as confident as other times when we’ve talked. His trying to hide his own nervousness and all I wanna do is hug him and tell him he doesn’t have to. I kept telling him over and over again that we don’t have to do this if he’s not sure that he actually wants it. I even offered to show him what I look like, not expecting to see him in return but he declined, saying it was now his turn to even the field.

“I was in another room.“ I manage to say, my voice only shaking a little.

We spend a few moments just looking at each other. Admiring one another. For someone who prefers digital interaction, I am surprised to realize I wish he was actually standing in front of. I wish I could hug him. A long hug of comfort, mutual understanding and hidden feelings.

He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head which causes a few strands of hair to fall over his eyepatch, “I’m sorry...It’s just-...Fuck I’m stumbling.” He chuckles nervously, “I just...can’t believe you are real. You are a real person. And the most beautiful person I’ve seen. That’s corny, isn’t it.” He looks away from the screen, his face now a shade of red. “But I mean it. I’m embracing my corniness. You are beautiful, Y/N. Not that I’m flexing or anything, but I’m lucky to have met you.”

I laugh, feeling my eyes stinging from the tears that have suddenly formed. I don’t want to let them fall, but I don’t have much say in that. “Well, mister Corpse, I can’t begin to compare. I mean...that hair! I still cannot believe it’s you. You are not just a deep voice in my mind. You are....you are...”

“Everything you imagined and more?“ he jokes, making my whole body heat up. “I told you you could trust. I mean, if the hair doesn’t confirm I’m who I say I am, I don’t know what will.”

“Actually, I never tried to imagine what you looked like. I knew those visions...I knew they didn’t matter. Faces don’t matter to us, Corpse. I think you realize that.“

And just like that, all I’ve been keeping hidden is pouring out. I don’t try to stop it - you can’t stop a hurricane with bare hands.

“I never needed a face to imagine us. I always saw as talking on the phone, playing Among Us. Reading scary stories to each other on Discord. I never needed a face to imagine your company. To imagine what we could be...“ I trail off, letting the first tear slip down my cheek.

The most sincere look appears in his eyes, “Fuck, I wish I could hold your hand right now. Never mind, I wish I could hug you, Y/N. Hug you and not let go for a long time.”

I laugh halfheartedly, my chest burning from the intensity of this moment’s intimacy, “I can always tell you where I live.” I’m only half-joking. I really want to see him in real life, not just through a screen, but even this call is out of his comfort zone, let alone a physical meet up.

He surprises me yet again, “Saturday. I’ll bring the take out, you pick the movie.” he says with a smile that is literally saying ‘you didn’t see that coming, did you?’

“How are you sure I don’t live in a different state, or a different continent all together?“ I tease, making an attempt to put my composure back together.

He smirks, “I pay way more attention to your stories than you’d think.” I laugh, shaking my head as a pointless method of fighting the pesky tears that he has 100% noticed by this point. “By the way, just because we’re....” he thinks for a second, “in a weird zone between friendship and...something more, doesn’t mean you have to stop sending me stories. I absolutely love reading them for my audience. They love em too.”

I just realized I am yet to tell him the crazy miracle that has happened. “Well, the thing is...I don’t have any.” His eyebrows shoot up in shock which makes me laugh, “Yeah, I know, it’s crazy. Since the day we started talking I have not experienced a single scary thing. Deadass. I swear on my life.”

If I wasn’t so head over heels for this man already, the baffled expression on his face would definitely send me falling for him. He’s just that adorable. “Wow.”

“I know right.“ I nod, “Seems to me you have enough luck to share with me.“

His eyes light up at that comment, showing just how meaning full it is to him.

“You’re my lucky charm, Corpse.“

“I will never be more proud of any other title, Y/N. That I can promise you with no hesitation.“

“Deadass?“

“Deadass.“

[summercourtship]

i absolutely love your amanda writings! the lack of amanda fics anywhere makes me so sad. if possible could i request something mega angsty with her 🧍🏻‍♀️ i love angst but i know not a lot of people do so totally okay if you don't want to take this one! (if you take on this request it does not have to be dbd related)

Thank you!!! She def deserves more fic- I love her so much and think she’s such an interesting character to explore.

Quick question for all y’all: do you think it’s more interesting when Amanda’s s/o is also a Jigsaw apprentice or when they don’t know about Amanda’s involvement in the murders? I can’t decide which intrigues me more!

also taking this moment to plug my amanda playlist again

last night.

Amanda Young x Reader | warnings: character death | word count: 1077

“Hey, can we talk?”

Amanda slammed the drawer she’d been rummaging in, tossing the first-aid supplies on the counter. She hadn’t heard you, opening another drawer and starting to shift through its contents.

You’d only realized that she was in your apartment when you’d heard your front door slam shut. Though at first you had thought it was someone coming to kill or kidnap you, but when you’d crept into the living space, the kitchen light was on and Amanda was standing in front of your junk drawers, clearly out of it.

“Amanda!” You say, louder than you’d have liked for this time of night. But it got her to finally look up at you, her eyes wide and frantic. It took her a moment to recognize you, bringing her mind back to the present moment and away from whatever she had been preoccupied with.

You take a moment to really look at her, how different she was from the last time you saw her. Something had clearly happened, and you feared the worst. Amanda was no stranger to relapse, but every time you thought about her falling back into her dangerous habits your heart broke. Seeing her frantically searching for something in your kitchen when you’d been presumed asleep didn’t help your suspicion.

You didn’t know which was worse: her trying to find valuables to pawn for drugs or something to numb the pain and distract her from her cravings. Neither of which were going to be in your kitchen drawers, most of them filled with random wires, take-out menus, and batteries.

“I’m worried about you. I rarely see you anymore, and you seem... really unlike yourself.” You move towards her, and you notice just how tired she looks. Her hair is messily tied back into a ponytail, strands hanging out and sticking to her face with oil and sweat. The bags under her eyes are prominent, her eyes hazy and somewhere else. In short, she looks like she’s been having the roughest day possible.

“I’m fine.” Even her voice is tired, flat and grating on her vocal chords.

“You clearly aren’t.” You place a hand on her arm, relieved when she doesn’t throw it off. “You can talk to me, you know. I’m always here for you.”

For a moment, she relaxes at your touch, before she catches sight of the supplies she’d thrown on the counter. It seems to set her off again, and she yanks her arm back before throwing open the next drawer.

“Do you have any anesthesia?” She doesn’t even look up at you as she asks, as if it was the most common question in the world to be asked at 1:00 AM in your dinky kitchen.

“What?” That was not what you were expecting.

“I said, do you have any anesthesia?” She looks up at you now, her jaw clenched. But she’s on the verge of tears, something that she’s obviously trying to hide. But things like that don’t escape your notice, not when it comes to Amanda.

“No, of course not. Amanda, what the hell is going on?”

“If you’re not going to help me, then shut the fuck up and go away.”

All you can think is that you need to diffuse the situation, and try to keep her with you and not out in the world doing who-knows-what.

“Okay, but you’re in my apartment. I don’t just have medical supplies hidden away in my kitchen.”

“God! Are you always this annoying?”

Ouch.

“I just wanted to help.” You say, stung by her harsh words.

“Well, you’re doing a shit job of it.” The slam of the drawer makes you jump, unnaturally loud in the quiet night. But you barely even hear it, her words echoing in your mind. She snatches the few supplies she had been able to find- mainly gauze- and sweeps out of the room and apartment without even a second glance back at you, leaving you confused and hurt. But more than that, you were scared for her and worried about whatever she had gotten herself into.

___

You stared at the tiny cubby that had been Amanda’s bed. The place smelled awful, and it broke your heart to think of her spending her time here when she could have been with you.

The investigators had taken everything that was of any legal worth, leaving behind what they deemed to be useless. But you saw its real worth- drawings and notes, her blankets and clothes. It was all her, the only sign that she had been a living human being.

You’ve replayed your last conversation countless times since it happened, wondering if there was something-anything- you could’ve said to get her to stay. But you knew that her devotion to you was second to her devotion to John- to Jigsaw.

It hurts even more when you think about what he did to her, and how she had somehow convinced herself that it was good and right. You’d never have the opportunity to tell her that she didn’t need a near death experience to learn to appreciate life, what she had needed was rehab and someone who cared about her. Someone who actually cared about her, as she was. Who wanted to help her without giving her more trauma on top of what she had already been through.

Shuffling around the gutted space, ignoring the suspicious stains on the floor and the amount of tools left behind, the razor wires and gears and shards of glass, you think once more on the conversation in your kitchen. If you had known that that would be the last time you spoke to her, that that was her last day on Earth, would you have tried harder to get her to stay? You haven’t forgotten her venomous words or the look in her eyes when she left your apartment, but your newfound understanding of her life brought clarity to the day.

You’d be questioned, more so than you already had been. The Jigsaw murders had shaken your city, and the idea that a survivor of Jigsaw became his closest accomplice would only further rattle it. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that, or the fact that you might somehow be implicated due to your association with Amanda.

All you could bring yourself to do was grab one of her blankets and some of the papers off her wall and head home, your mind silent.

[jamiedc-they-them]

Forgive and forget what happened in another time (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: After the incident with the Doctor, Daisy and Jemma see how much it hurt you and do what they can to help, but there is only one person who can really help. Fitz

Leopold Fitz, that name used to make you feel safe, happy, protected. A name of a brother figure, of a best friend.

Now, it was a name of danger, of hurt, of caution; of someone who once meant the world to you, but now a complicated thing. That was the what the name brought now. 

Your hand went to the wound he had caused you, a bullet wound; the scar being patched up by Jemma, who had been doing all she could for you. 

“Knock knock.” You heard Daisy said a your door swished open, there was no knock that was a lie, only the words and swoosh of the door to alert you of her presence in your room. 

You quickly put the shirt down, covering the scar, but you saw her eye go to where it would be on your front (your back was to her, you had turned your head to look at you, even then you only saw her from the corner of your eye) and her smile was sympathetic. 

She had her scar too, running her hand along the back of her neck.

“Hey.” You greeted, trying to sound like you both thinking about the same thing.

“Hey.” She parroted back, trying to do the same thing. 

You cleared your throat, fully turning to your friend and crossing your arms, “So, what’s up?” You asked.

She suddenly remembered why she was here, “We’re gonna be landing soon, gonna need you there with me.” She said, giving you a smile, one you mirrored. 

She hated this, seeing her sibling in pain like this; she hated that your brother figure hurt you both. 

You had found where his ship was after interrogating one of the crew, all you had to do was get to it. 

As you walked, with Daisy leading, Jemma grabbed you by the arm and held you back, “Y/N, if this is it, then --” 

“Now’s not the time.” You said, trying to get her to release you so you could just end this journey. 

“When is the time?” She pressed; you looked at her in the eyes, this journey had made her go to dark places, but she was still the caring soul you met all that time ago.

“Not now,” You said, removing the hand, “Besides, if it is him...then he’ll be with you, and Daisy can do the talking for me.” 

You entered the part of the ship you needed through the ceiling, with Jemma leading the way. You found the pod, and you waited with baited breath. She looked to you and Daisy, two of her best friends in the whole world who had followed her out here for this one moment. 

Her face dropped when she opened it...nothing was there, only some blood. 

She stayed in the pod for a bit, breaking down. You, meanwhile, sat in the commons room, alone, and you allowed yourself to admit it. 

You were happy that he wasn’t. 

And part of you hated yourself for it. 

“Y/N,” Jemma called out to you, you looked up to her, “I need you for something.” 

That was a bit of a stretch, it was more of a team meeting, and something she had spotted on the pod, writing. 

In a language she knew apparently. 

You and Daisy were trying to keep the rest of you guys in check, and at the same time get Simmons to see that you would not survive this trip. 

She, however, saw it differently.

She, however, pulled the lever and sent you deeper into space, chasing after a translation.

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

Jemma knew, she knew that you were pissed by that option; and as much as she defended it, she saw the toll all this was taking on you. 

But, this was her husband, she wasn’t going to just leave him stranded, even if the chance of finding him was small. 

“Y/N --” She said, having a moment alone with you before they went to the city of Kitson, a place apparently only the worst people would go. 

“Don’t.” You were firm with your words, and she could detect the bite. 

“Y/N, please --” Again, she couldn’t finish. 

“You had no right!” 

“I have to find him, Y/N. You would do the same if it was Daisy, me, or anyone else.” She couldn’t stop the words, her goal of finding her husband stopping her from seeing the consequences of her words.

Those consequences came when your eyes widened, almost at the audacity of the words said, before you let out a humourless chuckle, “‘Anyone else’ hasn’t shot me while I’ve tried to free my sister from his split. I get it, not fully in his control, his trauma too, but what about mine, Jemma? You expect me to just move on from it? Sure, Daisy’s done better, but --”

“You don’t need to compare yourself to her, Y/N. You’re making your own progress, I promise…” She was torn, and you could tell. 

“Whatever, let’s just go, ok?” She could tell things were a bit icey between you both, but she knew that you both still cared for each other, even during this time. 

You went to Kitson, yourself and the two girls getting high as a kite in your search, “Co-come on, Y/N...We need to find our british friend.” Daisy said, holding onto your hand and bringing you through the crowds. You had no idea where Jemma had gone, part of your brain wondering if she was real…

If what Fitz had done was real. 

She was, as you found out, being brought onto the floor in a crawl as you went under the table to find some solace from the people.

You observed the surroundings, eyes wide as you blinked a few times, but you swore you saw a man in a suit, a beard and an emotionless expression on his face staring at you a few times in the crowd, but each time you just shook your head and he was gone.

A blaring ‘dolphin’ noise brought the three of you out, it was a signal. But Chronicoms were on your tail, so you both looked to Jemma, assuring her that - despite your states - you could handle them. Jemma looked to you and smiled, glad you still had her back. 

She went, and you and your sister got to work, Daisy spinning on the table and you throwing glasses at the trained opponents. It was funny, how you both almost reverted to how you were before all this - you throwing glasses in a bar fight - and her distracting herself during a conflict and having fun with it. 

With that cleared up, Jemma had news for you. 

“He’s alive.” She told you, and she knew where to go. 

Your search led you to a Chromicom ship, or rather the ship. But, you saw him for the first time --

Not the doctor who had hurt you and your sister --

Not the man who had a split and lost for a moment to his demons --

But your best friend, your brother. Jemma’s husband --

Leopold Fitz.

Daisy was all but ready to make do on her threat of Fitz being hurt again, she’d tear the ship apart. She knew this wasn’t the Fitz that had hurt her, had hurt you. 

You were willing to do a lot of things to get him back, but forgiving him would be another thing. 

You had tried a runner, only for you to find yourself surrounded; you and Daisy were more than ready to fight --

But Jemma stopped you; you couldn’t quite focus on her words, your heart racing as you saw the tears in Daisy’s and Jemma’s eyes. 

This was a goodbye between you three siblings. 

Jemma then looked to you, shaky smile on her lips, “Y/N --” She wanted to say something, anything to help make this better. But she couldn’t think of anything. 

Her youngest sibling was hurting, just as much as her other younger sister. 

You brought her into a hug, one she returned, no other words were spoken; you both just hugged. 

Then she was gone, and you were going home with a member gone, maybe forever. 

As you went home, Daisy found you in your room, she sat next to you, not saying anything but she knew her presence would help. 

Hell, it had helped her, she knew how you both worked. You were her best friend since birth, brought up together in the orphanage. Now, you were more hurt than you were before. 

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

Still, you went back to earth, the ever present image of Jemma Simmon walking away, to whatever her fate held, was etched into your mind. 

You felt Daisy’s gaze on you every so often as you got closer to home. Still, no words were spoken, just the gaze of, not concern, just care. Was she worried? Yeah, but she knew displaying that to you would only make you go further into your hole you had dug for yourself. 

Still, you disembarked and found yourself now in a new situation, a new trauma; Phil Coulson had returned...sort of. 

It was him in the physical form, just not the...mental form? Still, it threw yourself and Daisy, just how seeing Fitz (the older version you cared for dearly) threw you earlier. 

You and Daisy walked away, trying to ignore what you had just seen. It didn’t, however, work that way. 

You instead ended up on the man’s (Sarge) truck, going to stop someone known as Izel, you didn’t care who she was, just that she was a threat to your family. 

So, on board you went. 

He pulled you up to the front, Daisy giving you a pat on the shoulder for encouragement as you went; you gave her a smile before entering. 

“So, smiley tells me you went off to space.” He said, wasting no time it seemed. 

You nodded, “Had a little trip, sure.” 

“What for?” 

“It wasn’t for you, if that’s what you’re getting at.” 

He scoffed, “Trust me, I might have an ego, but not that high of one. What were you really looking for?” 

“Why do you wanna know?” 

“Snow’s...difficult, but I’ve known her long enough to know when she needs to talk.” 

“You offering me a shoulder?” 

“A cold one. But you seem to be more open than your sister. All she wanted to talk about was me.” 

“She’s always been inquisitive.” 

“And you're sensitive.” 

“Was.” 

“Sounds like there’s a story there.” Wow, he was not stopping. 

“I will when you do.” He smirked. 

And he did, just to spite you it seemed; he opened up about Izel and his past; how his planet was destroyed and how revenge and hate drove him. 

He lied at one point, saying it was love, but he quickly said it was the hate that drove him instead. 

Love drove you, you knew that, but also fear. Fear of who Fitz would be.

Sarge looked at you, eyes almost daring you to open up; Daisy caught the look, quickly brining the attention back to her and away from you. She hated it, the look in his eyes, the amusement he got from causing you that discomfort. 

Then he was gone, he was out and you were barreling for a tower filled with Shrike (little bat things) that would infect everyone. 

Sarge was gone, and you were going to slam into the tower with a nuke. 

Deke did what he could to try and defuse it, but was unsuccessful. 

Daisy looked to you, seeing you only staring at the bomb that would now surely take your life; you looked devastated. Her eyes softened as she took one of your hands in her own, she gave it a squeeze, a silent “I love you.” 

Then it all went black…

Only, you woke up. You woke up to Daisy over the bomb with her powers making it go back into the bomb. 

She took care of the shrike too, vaporizing them as they entered. 

Then...then he entered. Leopold Fitz…

It was different seeing him in person, actually seeing him. 

Deke had hugged him.

Daisy smiled, as did May. 

You did, a small amount; he looked like his innocent self, not the beared man who had hurt him. 

But he was still there...always there deep down. 

You had a party, and he smiled at you; you lifted your bottle up, but your smile wasn’t as full as it used to be. 

You left early. 

Then you were forced to work together, looking into what made Sarge...well, Sarge, as Daisy spoke to him. 

She let it all out, the vitreal, the anger at this situation. Fitz chanced a look to you, seeing how you kept your distance, didn’t look at him. 

“Y/N...are you ok?” He asked; Jemma even paused what she was doing to look over at you in concern. 

You gulped, just hearing his voice made you go back mentally, “...Yeah, fine.” You said, trying to hang tough. 

His hand hit your shoulder, and you flinched away, slapping the hand away. He ignored the pain, he just kept his hands up and took a step back. 

“...I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” You said, walking away, ignoring Jemma saying your name softly as you left. 

You went back to your retreat. You felt the place shake, but you just hid yourself more. You couldn’t do this, your hand went to your wound as you felt the burning from it when you were shot. You heard the broken of “NO!” From both Daisy and Jemma. You --

You felt a hand on your shoulder, a soft one and yet you still cried out at it. The hand stayed, however, and you felt yourself be pulled into a hug. 

“I got you, Y/N...I got you.” It was Daisy, and you felt her tears hit you on the top of your head as you sobbed. 

You stayed like that for a bit, with you just sobbing into her as you took yourself back to what would have been your death had...had Jemma not acted so quickly. 

Jemma, the woman who had been by your side this whole time, along with Daisy of course. But Jemma never forced you into anything about the topic, she respected your boundaries. 

“Is...is he?” You started to ask before you hiccuped.

“He wanted to wait...but he understands if you don’t --”

“No, no I wanna see him...It...I can’t just ignore him forever.” You said, Daisy still holding you close.

“Ok...ok.” She said, kissing you on your head before helping you up and bring you to the door.

She opened it, and you smiled at your brother. Not the doctor. But Leopold Fitz, the man who hadn’t lost to his demons. 

And he smiled back softly. 

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

Daisy gave you a hug before departing on her mission, and that left you with Fitzsimmons. Jemma stood on one side, Fitz on the other. 

You stood as a united trio as you watched the mission occur. 

“Y/N, I...I’m sorry.” You let him finish this time. 

This time, you also looked at him, “It -- it wasn’t you.” 

“...I know. But, I still did it.” He said, not wanting to let himself of the hook.

You nodded sadly, “We fixed the timeline...We saved you, we’re all back together now...I’m sure we’ll get there with us, anyway.” 

He smiled, he knew you would, and he hoped dearly that he would. 

Jemma smiled, glad you were starting to heal. 

Now though, without knowing, it would be a while before you would see your friends again fully...

[secret-rendezvous1d]

can you write a part 2 abt just sitting on spencer's lap and making out :')

Okay... this one did so well and every now and then I go back and re-read it and feel all sorts going on in my brain-

Days off are a given in their line of work.

Some days are chaotic, completely mad with a strange energy and full of hectic hustle and bustle and active enough to have them on their feet for almost every hour of the day, that all they crave at the end of the day is a warm drink to calm them and a comfortable bed with fluffy pillows to lay their heads upon to gain a few hours of good sleep to feel refreshed and wake up ready to tackle another day of stress. The thrill of it all was something that made it worthwhile and was a reason to get out of bed and repeat.

Some days, however, were slow and boring. When the phone doesn’t ring with a P.D sheriff on the other line with fret and panic and worry in their voice as they explain a crime they had stumbled upon and needed the BAU’s help, when the inbox of their email folders were empty of recently sent messages with photos that were enough to give anyone nightmares and fear the absolute worst and be a warning to what kind of sick and twisted things they had to see. Walking into the unit felt useless, and there’s a sense of ‘why bother waking up?’, when Hotch turned them away because their help wasn’t required anywhere and being in the office took up space that didn’t need to be filled.

And you didn’t have to tell YN and Spencer twice.

She much rather enjoyed sitting on his lap rather than sitting on a a rather stiff and uncomfortable office chair, she much rather enjoyed his presence than a busy police department’s presence that were demanding new information to give to their officers, and she much rather enjoyed the alone time that they got together rather than being torn apart with orders. And he just loved being with his girlfriend and being himself, no having to worry that someone was watching them as they kissed goodbye and that they weren’t being spoken about since they had been office gossip from the get-go, and having nothing to tear his brain away from her.

“Feels weird to be free on a Thursday, doesn’t it?”

He shrugs in minor disapproval at her statement and tilts his neck back to look at her, the back of his head resting against the sofa cushion he was sat against, his hands placed firmly on her hips as she wobbles unstably on his lap to get a little comfortable. His eyes were focused on her, so golden brown and beautiful and enough to get lost in, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away from his face. Intimidating, almost, and a hint of darkness that was enough to tell her he was feeling a little naughty.

“What?”

She smiles and cups his face in her palms, her thumbs brushing over the slight facial hair that sprouted from his upper lip and curved around to below his chin, the flesh of his upper lip feeling soft when she caught contact. A major contrast with the prickly stubble that she rather liked the feel of.

“Nothing. You’re just,” she sighs happily and her shoulders hunch downwards as if a huge weight had been lifted from pushing her down, “you’re just very handsome and pretty and I could look at you all day. If I could stop blinking to stare at you, I would.”

“Handsome and cute, huh?”

She nods and drags her fingertips down his chin, following the sharp outline of his jawline before tickling down his neck, right up to his ears and down to the collarbones that protruded from beneath his skin. Goosebumps rising on his arms and legs, a bunch of butterflies set free in his stomach and a shudder building up in his spine as she dragged her fingers down his bare chest before letting them fall into the curves of his waistline. 

He slides her closer to him, his boxers bunching up underneath her as she tried to adjust herself as best as she could on his lap to keep some of her weight off of him, the fuzz of his thighs tickling the smooth skin of hers and his muscles tensing beneath her. His face nudged underneath her jawline, stubble sharp against her neck, his lips dragging across the skin as he left kisses behind. Introducing his teeth as he nibbled and tugged on the skin and left the faintest magenta-coloured bruises on her skin, in the wake of wet and open-mouthed kisses, her head tilting back to give him much better access.

She could feel him hardening beneath her as his breathing became shallow and restless and warm against her skin, and she was sure the crotch of her knickers were becoming damp with the arousal of the situation, her thighs tensing as she gripped him in an almost vice grip with her legs. Her hands travelling back up his chest, palms pushing into his shoulders as she found the back of his head, fingers hiding in his hair as she concealed the moans that tried to escape from her throat. Gripping on the brown strands as her hips momentarily moved back and forth.

“Jesus,” she hums, tugging on the strands of hair at the nape of his neck at a force that pulled him back so she could look at him, a hungry look that made her melt under his touch, “you drive me insane.”

“You drive me insane,” he croaks, lunging forward and planting his lips against hers, an eager feel behind his kiss that matched the hunger in his eyes, his hands holding your face still. Hunger for something a little more than just a hot and heated make-out session on the sofa. A thing string of saliva attaching the two of them together as he pulled away, lips red raw and his cheeks flush with something that definitely couldn’t be embarrassment, “no takeaway driver to ruin the moment this time.”

“All the way?”

“All the way and further more, baby.” xx

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 34

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 6.7k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

✧✧✧ act five ➻ part one

​​​​​

“Wooyoung.” The voice is soft on your ears, and you revel in the peace it provides while you can, mind bringing the comforting image of San’s feline features without hesitation. Merely the sound of his voice fills your chest with warmth. It’s something that blossoms and spreads throughout your whole body as you begin to slip into consciousness. “Wooyoung, get up. They brought us some food.”

Wooyoung.

A hand clamps down hard on your shoulder. Your eyes open against your will, fluttering lashes that reveal a dimly lit scenery around you. The same scene you saw before with it’s cold, metal walls and rattling chains that rupture with noise every time someone shifts a muscle. It hits at that moment. This is not your body, you are not seeing with your own eyes or hearing with your own ears; you are merely looking through a piece of foggy glass and watching this dream – if it can even be called that – unfold with no control. At first, you had a sliver of control over the body and you moved on your own, but now it’s like you are merely a ghost inhabiting Wooyoung’s body alongside his consciousness.

That lack of control is terrifying, to say the least. Seeing things happen and not being able to help or do anything at all. You felt this fear once before, when you were trapped in prison and watching your team unravel and come apart because of your actions. Now, you are witnessing the repercussions of your identity in a whole new light.

San’s sharp features fill your vision. A hand reaches up between your bodies and cups the man’s cheek, turning his head left and right as your eyes flit over his face in search of something.

“Bruises are worse today.” It’s Wooyoung who speaks, soft and mellifluous tone falling from what should be your lips but isn’t. The entire situation is a bit baffling because you can’t reconcile where your consciousness ends and Wooyoung’s begins.

“I’m fine. They brought us some water. You should use it to clean your cuts before they get infected.”

Wooyoung waves the Spectre’s concern off and shakes his head.

“I’m fine. My knee is the only thing still bothering me. Once they take the chains off I’ll be able to set it properly. Ribs okay today?”

“Peachy,” San murmurs, hand coming up to rub at the mentioned spot subconsciously. “I’ve broken plenty before. This is no different.”

“Except you haven’t had proper treatment. I don’t even know if it’s a stable or transverse or oblique fracture… could even be comminuted for all we know.” Wooyoung lifts a shaky hand to his hand and combs through the charcoal-colored strands with no direct purpose. “I-I don’t know – I don’t know how to treat broken ribs. Yunho didn’t – I never asked him h-how to and I—”

“It’s fine, Wooyoung. I won’t die from a broken rib.”

“And if one of the bone shards is lodged in your lung? Think you can survive a hole there? Just… j-just let me know if anything changes. I don’t know what I can do if you start coughing up blood but I’ll figure something out.”

San is silent for a moment. His gaze shifts to the dirtied floor where thick iron chains weave crude patterns over the tiles. They cling to his wrists and ankles, a bit too loose but not enough for him to slip out of them. Wooyoung bears the same kind along with Mingi off in the corner. The Spectre seems to debate something for a moment before he glances up at the ceiling for a half-second, then he pulls closer to Wooyoung to mutter in his ear.

“They’ve been watching us for days. If we can break the cameras then I can use my abilities to—”

“To what, San?” Wooyoung interrupts. He shakes his head ever so slightly and heaves a deep sigh before speaking again, this time quieter than before. “The second a camera feed goes dead, they’ll send someone here to investigate. Mingi is too weak and injured to fight, you can hardly move or stand up straight with that rib, and what am I going to do? I can’t fight as well at you two, and I certainly can’t defend all of us, not with these chains and not on my own. Besides, the collars you and Mingi have are specially tailored to your class. They’ll restrict your usage of your abilities and you’ll only get hurt worse if you try using them.”

“But we – we have to get back to the others. We don’t know what they did with them or if they were taken too. They could have taken Y/N a-and Yunho and Yeosang. And who knows what happened with Hongjoong in the arena or if Seonghwa and Jongho found him?”

“I’m sure they’re okay.” Wooyoung’s tone remains noncommittal, but there’s something about the way he speaks the words with enough certainty to imply that he knows something San doesn’t. San rubs at the skin under his shackles. His wristband must have been taken because it’s nowhere in sight, and you can only assume that they did the same with Mingi’s as well. “We need to wait for a better opportunity. See where they’re taking us and why. We’ll find the others when we can, but right now… let’s get through this together.”

“Fine, but at least clean the cuts on your arms while you can. Who knows when they’ll bring fresh water by again.”

“Give it to Mingi. His injuries are the worst.” San inhales sharply. His lips part to no doubt deny Wooyoung’s request, but the shorter man levels him with a small shake of his head. “Please, San. I need you to trust me when I say that I will be fine.” Wooyoung glances over to another corner where said Berserker sits with shoulders slumped and head hung. You can’t tell whether he is awake or not, but that doesn’t seem to be important because San manages a hesitant nod then goes to approach the man.

Wooyoung watches San’s back as he walks. It’s careful, calculating, almost vigilant and the moment he decides San is at a far enough distance, he whips around to face the corner. Eyes glare holes into the seam of the wall and floor.

“I know you’re there, Y/N,” he whispers, and if you weren’t practically in his body, you would struggle to hear the words. You can’t even properly panic at his direct acknowledgment of whatever this is — he knows you’re there, whether it’s seeing through his eyes or pushing your subconsciousness alongside his. “I don’t – I don’t have time to explain. They’re transporting us to a different facility today. I think they’re going to separate the three of us into different cells. One of the guards mentioned putting Mingi in a steel cage on his own. I’ll try my best to convince them that we should stay together. I…” Wooyoung pauses, lips darting over his dry and cracked lips. “If they separate us, I w-would be able to explain this better but – listen, Y/N. I know this must be confusing and disorienting for you, but I need you to do two things for me when you wake up. First—”

“Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung cuts his thought short with a sharp hiss and a quickly exhaled curse.

“His fever is getting worse.”

“Fuck,” Wooyoung mutters, turning back around and rushing over to where San kneels beside Mingi’s hunched form. He brings a hand to Mingi’s forehead, brushing the damp hair there back so he can have better access, and even you can feel the heat emanating from the Berserker’s skin. Wooyoung withdraws his hand quickly and reaches down for the hem of his shirt. “Get the water for me, I need to make a rag of some sort to put on his head.”

Wooyoung yanks at his shirt, ripping it along one of the side seams and tearing all the way to the other side of his waist. San moves behind him in a rush to get the water as Wooyoung bunches up the wad of torn clothing.

“Mingi, can you hear me?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you mention the fever earlier?”

“Didn’t wanna worry you both.”

“Ah, Mingi…” Wooyoung sighs. San comes up on his side and delivers a glass of water into one of Wooyoung’s waiting hands. “I need you to lie down flat on your back. We’ll put this on your forehead for now, and I’ll look over your stomach again, okay?” Wooyoung dunks his makeshift rag into the cup, soaking it thoroughly while San reaches forward to tug Mingi’s shirt up to his sternum. The moment Wooyoung’s eyes flit over to glance at the newly-exposed skin, you are overwhelmed by the urge to vomit.

Right beside Mingi’s left hip, nestled close to the band of his pants and almost as long as a small blade, lies a broad cut. The skin around it is swollen and angry, holding a yellowish tint to it that you can see in the lowlight of the room. It is wide open, and the stretch of Mingi’s taut skin does nothing to keep the wound sealed shut. You don’t need to be a doctor to realize exactly how bad the cut is. San and Wooyoung exchange a nervous glance, and the worry in San’s eyes is so palpable and thick that it nearly chokes you. Wooyoung’s hands tremble as he eases Mingi onto his back. Water splashes over the floor, and Wooyoung nearly drops the rag in his efforts to calmly place it over Mingi’s damp forehead.

“Woo—”

“I know! I know it’s bad! Okay? L-Let me think this through.” Wooyoung sits back on his heels, tongue swiping over his lower lip. “Mingi needs rest right now. We can’t do anything without supplies a-and we need to just hope that they won’t let him die.”

“And if they don’t care?” San questions. He clamps a hand down hard on Wooyoung’s shoulder and pulls the man to face him head-on. “We don’t even know why they took us, let alone what they plan to do with us!”

“Yeah, well, quit looking at me like I have all the answers! If they wanted us dead, they would have killed us by now. There’s no way they would go through all this trouble to just let us die before we even get to our destination.” San’s hand falls away from Wooyoung as the Spectre sits back as well, eyes glued to Mingi’s reclining form. “It’s the middle of the night, San. I’m sure they’re planning something for the morning if they’re giving us food this late so let’s hold out a little while longer. Get some rest, I’ll watch over Mingi for a bit and make sure he can sleep okay.”

San pulls further away from Wooyoung at that, relenting in his arguments to return to his corner of the all too small room, and Wooyoung watches him go with lips pressed into a thin line. He doesn’t stop staring at the man until San is curled into the corner with his eyes shut. A sigh passes through Wooyoung’s lips as he turns back to Mingi, one hand stretching out to smooth down the Berserker’s hair.

“You comfortable, Mingi?” He asks. Several seconds pass in silence, and the only sounds that can be heard in the room are the steady and raspy breaths falling from the Berserker’s lips. “Hm, I’ll take that as a yes.” Wooyoung lets a couple more minutes go by without saying a word or making a sound, and it’s only when he seems confident that both San and Mingi are asleep that he speaks again. “Y/N, when you wake up, tell Seonghwa that the moon is shining over cold waters. I know it sounds weird, but he’ll know what it means. A-And Yeosang. Please tell him that I’m okay and he doesn’t need to worry. Then give him the same message as Seonghwa, okay? He’ll… he knows what’s going on b-between us, this whole connection, all of it. He can explain it to you for me. I would – I would do it but I can’t risk Mingi or San overhearing this. It’s already risky enough like this. I’m gonna send you back now before one of them starts asking questions.”

Something cold blossoms in your chest, like someone is trying to claw their way out of you and rip you apart from the inside out.

“Look after Yeosang while I’m gone, Y/N. I won’t forgive myself if something happens to him and I’m not there.” That’s the last thing you manage to hear before shadowy tendrils snake across your vision and bring you back into pitch-black darkness.

You wake up with a start, jerking back into full consciousness in your own body, and you jolt upwards into a sitting position. Everything burns and aches. Sweat beads your brow, slick down your back as well even though the room is cold. Of course it’s only a dream, a weird premonition that plagues you every time you lie down to sleep at night. It has been three days since that day in the arena, the one where three of the crew were stolen away from under your noses, and these dreams have become incessant in their persistence. This one was a first though: the first time Wooyoung has ever acknowledged your presence and spoken to you the way he did, and no matter how much you try to rack your brain, you still cannot get it to make even an ounce of sense.

The right side of the bed remains cold to the touch. It’s a familiarity, yet at the same time, it burns a hole deep in your chest which will linger for hours on end. Seonghwa hasn’t left Hongjoong’s bedside in days. He refuses to look you in the eye when you two are in each other’s presence. You can’t pretend that you don’t understand why because it’s blatantly obvious given that it started the day you met with Jisung and had that emotionally-charged conversation afterward. Yeosang won’t leave the room he’s staying in, and Jongho stays with him for hours on end just to try to ease some of his broken emotional state. Yunho is the only person who tries to maintain a sense of normalcy, but even so, he can’t do much. You have yet to hear a true apology fall from his lips, and until he gives you that much, you are content to greet him with a cold shoulder as petty as it might sound.

As for Jisung, you haven’t heard anyone breathe a word about him in days. You are positive that Seonghwa is going to meet him during the day at some point because the man will disappear for one or two hours then visit Yeosang for the same amount of time before returning to his incessant vigil at Hongjoong’s bedside.

You positively despise everything about the situation you all have been thrust into, and at the forefront of it all are these damn dreams. It almost seems as though the universe is trying to punish you for being the reason why the others were taken – San and Wooyoung, more specifically – because why else would you see through Wooyoung’s eyes and see the direct results of your mistakes. Even a cold shoulder doesn’t do anything to ease your worries, and thus you push your way into the room across the hall with a new sense of determination. You don’t stop until you reach your intended destination, lingering beside Seonghwa’s shoulder where he kneels at the side of Hongjoong’s cot. He shifts his chin to the slightest degree as he look at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Did you sleep okay?”

You aren’t sure what your plan was when you decided to come to Seonghwa. You haven’t thought about what you want to say or should say, but it seems a bit odd to lead with something like ‘every time I go to sleep I wake up in Wooyoung’s body and see through his eyes’ so you can’t very well start with that. The issue is that you don’t even know where to start with this conversation or what to say.

“Um…” You trail off, thought dying in the back of your throat. Seonghwa twists to look at you more directly now.

“Y/N?”

“T-The moon—” you cut yourself short, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “The moon is shining over cold waters?”

It doesn’t process right away. The man blinks back at you with confusion shining in his bright and round eyes, and you are ready to backtrack and tell him not to worry about it. Then, Seonghwa’s expression goes flat, color drains from his features, and his mouth falls agape. He jerks his head forward to stare at Hongjoong’s unconscious body, eyes darting all over the place, while you can do nothing except stand there and wait.

“Who – how do you… god, hold on.” Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that it hurts to look at. He brings a hand up to rub at the spot between his eyes, lips barely moving a centimeter when he speaks next. “Where did you hear that?”

“Wooyoung asked me to tell you that,” you whisper back. It’s utterly illogical since the two of you are alone in the room and Hongjoong isn’t awake, but you’re afraid to speak any louder than that, like you’re divulging a secret for just the two of you to hear.

“Wooyoung. When did he—”

“Last night.” Seonghwa lifts his chin.

“How?”

“I-I don’t know how to – to explain it. He told me to deliver that message to you and to Yeosang as well.”

“That… that explains why I couldn’t find you last night,” Seonghwa murmurs the words under his breath, and you’re almost certain that he isn’t intending them to be for your ears until he jerks his head to look you in the eye. “Daichi knew where you were but said he couldn’t tell me.”

Ah, so he was in the Dreamscape last night. Waiting and looking for you. While you were off inhabiting Wooyoung’s body and living in his consciousness. Then does he not know?

“You mean you didn’t – you weren’t there?” You inquire, tone a lot less confident all of a sudden.

“Where, Y/N?” Seonghwa pushes himself to his feet and stands at his full height, looming over you a little bit as he moves to stand in front of you. “What exactly did you see last night?”

“What is Wooyoung?” You ask rather than answering his question. Seonghwa tilts his head to the side a bit and looks off to the wall behind you. He inhales sharply, tongue dragging over the front of his teeth, and his hesitance tells you all you need to know. “Seonghwa.”

“We need to go to Yeosang,” Seonghwa says after several deep breaths of silence. He reaches down to grab your wrist, fingers nearly closing around your skin when you yank your arm back in defiance.

“You’re just – no! Why can’t you tell me what he is?”

“I don’t even know what you saw last night or what you mean by he told you to deliver a message. It is impossible for that to happen. Even if he is a — it’s impossible.”

“Is he a Si—”

A hand clamps hard over your mouth, Seonghwa’s other hand flying up to cradle the back of your neck as you jerk backward, and you blink at the man in utter shock. He doesn’t look back at you, however; his eyes are glued on Hongjoong’s reclining form, eyes so wide that you think they could bulge out of his head. He watches the steady rise and fall of Hongjoong’s chest go undisturbed for two, five, fifteen seconds before letting his hand drop back to his side.

“Not here,” he hisses under his breath, and for the first time, you hear him speak directly to you with a certain sense of vehemence in his tone. “Y/N, please.” You manage a small nod, unsure of what else there is for you to say, and Seonghwa takes hold of your hand again, this time letting his fingers slip through yours. You don’t know what comes over you in that moment; perhaps it is simply a leftover sense of bitterness that bubbles deep in your gut.

“Yet if this is what you truly want… if you have a chance to rest peacefully at last with someone you love, who am I to deprive you of that? That is all I could ever want for you.”

You tug your hand out of Seonghwa’s grasp, pulling it close to your chest as you turn around and head back towards the door. Turning around now would be a mistake; you can’t bring yourself to think about the expression of pain that surely crosses his features.

“I’m sorry. I would do anything for you, but I cannot force you to stay. That is the one thing I cannot bring myself to do.”

There is so much left unsaid between you two right now, so much you want to say but can’t, and you know that it will probably be the way for quite some time. You would rather run from this than face it head-on and look Seonghwa in the eye to tell him that you need him to make you stay because the guilt that eats away at your gut won’t let you stay otherwise. You don’t stop to see whether Seonghwa is following you, but you don’t really need to because you can hear the soft shuffling of his footsteps trailing after you as you step out of the room and into the hall. The air around you is too stiff and quiet. The silence brings the starkly haunting image of the cell San, Mingi, and Wooyoung are trapped in to mind.

You wait beside the door as Seonghwa knocks on the wood and calls out softly to Yeosang inside. When it cracks open, you expect to see the blond standing in the doorway; rather, it’s red eyes and dark hair that greet you, and you make brief eye contact with Jongho before he redirects his focus to Seonghwa.

“Need me to step out?”

“Yeah, you can go downstairs and eat with Yunho. He should still be down there.”

Jongho nods twice then glances back over his shoulder. He says nothing more as he steps out of the room and replaces Seonghwa’s spot in the hallway. You’re about to follow the lieutenant in when Jongho lands a hand on your arm, squeezing tightly at your forearm and pulling your focus towards him for a moment.

“How are you holding up?”

“…Could be better,” you murmur back.

“We’ll get them back soon.” Jongho sounds so confident, and you can hardly feed into that confidence yourself thanks to the turmoil rushing through your mind without cease.

“Yeah, I’m sure we will,” you lie, pressing a smile onto your lips if only to reassure the Berserker. Whether he believes you or not remains to be seen. He steps away and continues on down the hall, however, so you can escape his scrutiny for the time being and follow Seonghwa into Yeosang’s room.

The first thing to hit you is the darkness of the room. All the lights are turned off save for a lamp beside the bed and the soft morning light filtering in through the window. Yeosang sits in front of the fogged glass with his back to the door, illuminated by the pale light. In this atmosphere, you can truly see his princely features and it makes perfect sense how he could have been a prince in the past with the sharp angles of his jaw, even slope of his nose, blond hair falling in soft waves around his head and resting flat against the back of his neck. If you didn’t know how cruel he could be, you would dare to say he looks almost angelic with the sun’s rays hitting his hair and reflecting off it in soft halos.

“Yeosang,” Seonghwa starts, tone hovering above a whisper.

“More plans from the double agent today?” Double agent? You don’t realize what he means by that until Seonghwa clears his throat and drops his chin to his chest. Jisung.

“No, there’s something else we need to discuss.” Seonghwa shifts to look at you, and it’s only after he gives you a small nod that you realize what he wants. It’s on you to bring up the topic of Wooyoung, to deliver the message he gave you, and to start this conversation. Yeosang swivels in his seat as slowly as possible. You choke on air when he looks directly at you, not even bothering to spare Seonghwa an ounce of his attention once he notices you are in the room as well.

“Wooyoung asked me to tell you th-that he’s okay and you d-don’t need to worry,” you whisper. It’s hard to meet Yeosang’s intense stare, and you regret it when you do because of the sheer lack of emotion in his dark eyes.

“Wooyoung asked you to tell me that. Right.” Accusatory, cold, disbelieving. How the fuck are you supposed to get this man to believe what you witnessed with some weird string of words that he’s supposed to know the meaning of? “Do you take me to be an idiot, Y/N? Why the hell would I ever believe something as ridiculous and inconceivable as that? Don’t tell me you believe her, Seonghwa.”

“You should just — the moon is shining over cold waters,” you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut to hide your frustration.

“Where did you hear that?” There’s a shift, wood scraping hard against wood, and all of a sudden, you’re forced to open your eyes because the man is in your face with hands clenched so hard around your biceps that you can feel the bruises forming already.

“Yeosang,” Seonghwa warns. He takes a step closer to the two of you.

“Where the fuck did you hear that?” Yeosang demands, louder this time as he presses so close to you that his breath cascades over your face.

“Wooyoung told me to tell you that,” you spit back. You shrug his hands off you with a quick jerk of your shoulders, stepping back a bit to put some distance between your bodies. “Because for some fucking reason, I can’t go to sleep at night without waking up in his fucking body and seeing through his eyes with zero control or ability to do anything for myself like I’m some backseat driver in his consciousness while I watch him spend hours trapped in a cell with San and Mingi until he either falls asleep or ‘decides to send me back’, whatever the fuck that means!”

“What?” Seonghwa exhales, head whipping so hard you could get whiplash just from watching him. “Y/N, what did you say? I thought — you mean you didn’t go to the Dre— you didn’t see him there?” You’re acutely aware of the way Yeosang’s eyes flit from Seonghwa’s body to yours, cold and calculating as ever, but something in his features expresses a pre-existing knowledge, like he knows exactly what Seonghwa is talking about with needing an explanation. It sends shockwaves of panic through your body. You can’t stand the way he’s staring at you; it feels too much like he is picking you apart piece by piece.

“W-What? What the fuck are you saying?”

“Oh, cut the damn act, Y/N. I know what you are.”

Both you and Seonghwa reel on Yeosang, and your vision spins with the haste at which you move. He huffs out a laugh, lips twisting at one corner as he grins at you with a sense of cruelty to his gaze.

“If you’re going to pretend to be something, you ought to do a better job, especially seeing as I’m the only true Elitist on the crew. I don’t know who you thought you were fooling, but even if Wooyoung hadn’t told me what you are, I would have known regardless.”

“W-Wooyoung? Wooyoung told you what I am?” You stammer, eyes as wide as saucers. “How did he know?” Your eyes go directly to Seonghwa, and you search for answers in the man, or at least some indication that he was the one to tell Wooyoung about your identity but he shakes his head. Given the shock on his features as well, you’re inclined to believe that he truly had nothing to do with Wooyoung knowing.

“Did he not tell you anything? Not even about the meaning of that phrase he gave you? How typical of him to get sidetracked.” Some of the hostility slips away from Yeosang’s tone at the mention of Wooyoung in such a way, and he shakes his head a bit.

“He said he couldn’t explain because Mingi and San could overhear. But I still don’t understand what’s going on or why this is happening. Why didn’t this happen with the two of us?” You direct the question to Seonghwa, hoping for some sort of answers from the man given his previous knowledge about Sirens, but what you get instead is disappointment and confusion.

“I’ve never even heard of such a thing happening, never read about it, or seen any sort of legend talking about this type of connection,” Seonghwa says through a sigh. “Yes, Wooyoung is a Siren just as we are, and while I had my suspicions about your identity as one, he is the one who came to me and confirmed it because… because he had a dream of sitting in a black lake with a red moon and seeing your reflection in the water instead of his. I didn’t know what it meant back then, and I don’t know now.”

“W-When?” You can’t recall a time when Wooyoung was ever in your body or if you even realized that he was there.

“Right after you came onto the ship. In the first four days you were hiding in that box, Wooyoung came to me saying that he saw a girl’s face in the water, and when I asked him to describe her features, I instantly knew it was the one who I ran into outside the airlock. You.”

“And you two were just — you weren’t going to tell me that this was happening? Or that Wooyoung knew all this time?”

“Seonghwa and I are the only two people who know about Wooyoung’s identity. It’s been that way for six years. Not even Hongjoong knows, and that’s exactly how we intended for it to be. You would never have known if not for this connection between the two of you.” Yeosang blinks between the two of you. He folds his arms over his chest, letting one hand rest under his chin. He says nothing more than that but you can clearly see that there is more on his mind than merely that.

“Then what about the meaning of the phrase? You said it had a meaning, Yeosang.”

“The moon is shining over cold waters. Wooyoung’s moniker is Tsukio, meaning moon. Your moniker is Umiko, is it not? Child of the sea? We came up with it as a failsafe in this sort of situation, where if Wooyoung was in danger and you happened to inhabit his consciousness, then he would give you the code to deliver back to us. Seonghwa would tell you his identity as a Siren, and I would do my best to explain whatever I could in Wooyoung’s absence. There is nothing he does not tell me, even down to matters like this.”

“I don’t understand why Seonghwa doesn’t have this ability as well though.”

“As I told you, Y/N, all Sirens are different. They interact in different ways, and they all have different abilities. Yeosang and I haven’t stopped looking for answers or trying to find even the slightest bit of information about this. Given what Wooyoung has told us, we have only come to one conclusion. You are the sea, and Wooyoung is the moon. No matter where you are in the universe, the seas are always influenced by the moon and tied to the moon in some way. Tell me, Y/N, have you ever seen Wooyoung in your dreams before this?” Seonghwa pauses to let you process and answer the question. His eyes search yours for any sort of response, but you can’t come up with one right away.

“H-Help! Someone – someone help!” You cry out, voice croaking like a frog, and your throat burns from the effort. One of the chained prisoners in front of you turns at the sound of your voice. Dark charcoal hair flutters in the still air as he whips around to face you, eyes wide and curious as they land on you. All the air leaves your lungs. Your heart constricts painfully in your chest, and you choke on nothing as his face comes into focus.

Wooyoung.

A cloaked man steps in front of you and effectively blocks your line of sight before you can examine the sight further.

Wooyoung.

A searing pain blossoms over your cheek, and it takes a moment for you to process that the person has just punched you.

Wooyoung.

Another blow comes down on your head. You feel your body go down before your mind catches up, and you enter a harsh freefall. Your chains clatter as you tumble to the ground.

“Y/N!”

“You have,” Yeosang states, arms falling limply by his sides. You’re about to agree when another memory hits you out of the blue, something you haven’t seen in a long time, all the way back from when you had the surgery on your arm and when Wooyoung plugged an anesthesia shot in your neck.

The dream is beginning to fade, darkness swirling into one large mass, but before the serenity around you can disappear entirely, you catch sight of something new. Amongst everything that is familiar and known, this is completely foreign. A new figure, shorter than Daichi for certain, but also bearing dark hair. He stands off at the other side of the lake, near the shore like Daichi had been, but his back is facing you. He bears garbs like yours, white and flowing despite the lack of a breeze.

“Twice. After the surgery on my arm and after the m-mission to get the serums.”

“You merely saw him? Not through his eyes?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“And now this is the first time you’ve seen through his eyes.”

“No. It started the first time I went to sleep after what happened at the arena.”

“And you waited four days to say anything?” Yeosang scoffs, face contorting into a scowl in an instant.

“He didn’t speak to me until today! Without that damn phrase, you would have called me insane and not told me anything.” Yeosang opens his mouth to retort, but you jab a finger at his face before he can. “Don’t try to tell me I’m wrong.”

“I think…” Seonghwa trails off, puffing his cheeks full of air and exhaling deeply. “I think Y/N and I need to speak with Daichi about this. It sounds like this connection – whatever it is between the two of you – it sounds like it’s something that is triggered when the other is in danger. Wooyoung inhabited your body when you were dying in the boxes in the cargo hold.”

“He had control though,” Yeosang cuts in.

“He had control over me?”

“Over your body, yes. He told me that he climbed out of the box in the middle of the night and left a blood trail leading to the box. He knew San would be on the first shift to do inventory in the morning, he knew San would have mercy and not be able to kill you, and he knew that San would be able to pick up on the blood trail leading to your box.”

“He…” He saved my life. Your throat closes in on itself. Wooyoung is the only reason San found you in that box. You probably would have died the next day if not for him.

“She was physically incapable of doing even the bare minimum at that time. But you said you have no control over Wooyoung’s body?”

Two shaky hands dart up to your neck, clasping around something terribly cold and metal. It’s a collar of sorts, and it refuses to budge even a centimeter as you try to yank at it. A finger slips under the ridge of the metal. You brush over the cold skin there only to find a blossoming scar across your neck, one that spreads no matter how far you move your hand along the collar. You jerk your hand out from under it with a growing feeling of disgust churning in your stomach.

“I h-had control the first time. But for less than a minute. Like once W-Wooyoung was fully conscious again, he took control.”

“I need time and my notes back on the ship,” Yeosang mutters. “Y/N, I’ll need you to come visit and tell me everything that has been happening in these dreams, along with all the things that started happening when you first came aboard. Once we’re back on the ship, of course.”

“Well, that will be coming sooner than expected.” You and Yeosang glance over at Seonghwa at the same time, eyes wide with unspoken questions. “We’re going back to the ship this afternoon. Yunho plans to transport Hongjoong back with Jongho’s help. He’ll make the rest of his recovery there, but we need to get moving. Jis–our double agent finally figured out where they’re taking the others. Geofflan system, planet Dorado.”

“Seonghwa, that’s—”

“Yes, I know, Yeosang,” Seonghwa interrupts. His lips twist into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and no matter what way you look at the grin, you only see sadness in it. “We would inevitably have to go there at some point. I can’t keep running forever, can I?”

Dorado? Why does this feel familiar?

You peer at the side of Seonghwa’s head in silence, mulling over the words and racking your brain for that sliver of a memory about Dorado.

“Maybe Hongjoong found a lead on Dorado, and that’s where we’re heading next. Seonghwa might be tense because of that.”

“What’s so important about Dorado?”

Jongho’s eyes find yours and suddenly grow wide. He shakes his head a few times, but the nervous gleam that dances across his eyes doesn’t escape your notice.

“Perhaps it’s time for me to go home and face my demons after all,” Seonghwa whispers, letting his smile stretch a bit wider. It falls away a second later, and something dark takes over, something you decide you don’t want to see cross Seonghwa’s features again. Because in that moment, you see something sinister and cruel, and all the legends you heard about the man come to life before you. The stories of a man in a black cloak bearing a silver scythe in one hand with a gun in the other, the fearless killer who stands beside the Scourge of the Black Sea rearing death in his wake. When Seonghwa turns on his heel and leaves the room, you see it. The dark shadows billowing behind him curl outwards and sweep across the floor, crude shapes built by the light in the hallway, and that cloak of darkness sits on Seonghwa’s shoulders. It’s like the Lieutenant of Death has crawled his way out of the dark abyss of hell that Seonghwa kept him buried in, and the face he rears horrifies you.

✧✧✧ a/n: hehe 👁👁🍿 jk um what is there to say about this except hi hello! new act! act five! lots of exposition for this part, i’m sorry about that, there’s a lot to explain and thus it takes a lot of time to explain it, but this is only the first layer of explanation so aidjfoidsjfio strap in!!

taglist: @faeriewoobin​​ @sugarrimajins​​ @atinyinwonderland​​ @2504-life @lil7bluedragon​ @sparklychangbin​​ @jeong-uwu​​ @jeonartemis​​ @anothershorthuman​​ @xxbluestrifexx​​​ @haotheheckk​​ @noonawriter​​ @lostscenarios​​ @nlost21​​ @mirror-juliet​​ @okokokok123-45​ @purple-aeon​ @theoinkypiglet​ @toothlessshiber​ @atinyarmyx1​ @simpforhyunjin​ @hwangwoosan​ @vampire-jimin​ @softyubi​ @drumboydowoon​ @chatsgotmytongue​ @just-a-starfruit​ @babydolljo​ @scintillating-souls​ @khjssss @felixity​ @rawrrainn​ @hewwo-from-the-other-side​ @hangsxng​

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[amerrierworld]

Babysitter (pt 10)

Pt 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Summary: You and Tony have a discussion as Hela and Loki sneak around. 

Characters: Hela x fem!reader, Loki, Tony, Steve, Rhodey

Word Count: 1,813

Warnings: nothing? feels!

The New Avengers Facility was by far the most luxurious hideout you'd ever encountered. It was also incredibly large and perfect for aimless exploring. 

The Avengers, though concerned for you once you arrived, quickly lost focus of you as they began flitting about their machines and computers to see what the hell was happening around the world. 

You were given your own room, fully furnished with a well-stocked mini fridge. There was a camera situated outside by the door, so they’d know if you went in or out.

Normally you would’ve protested the house arrest, but you couldn’t be bothered suddenly. You were numb. 

The Facility was massive. It varied from small cozy lounge areas to large open spaces for training, meetings, and all sorts of experimental engineering. 

You were curled up in one of the tinier corners on a brown leather sofa. The rest of the place just seemed so pristine and neat and horrifically modern, no offense to Tony’s design tastes. There was a digital fireplace and heater, yet the 3D projection of the actual fire made it seem real. Only thing missing was the smell of burning wood. 

“Thought you’d have run off by now,” grunted a voice behind you. Tony had come into the lounge. You kept looking at the fire.

“I have no where else to go, Tony,” you said bluntly. Over the past few days you’d been reading up more and more from the news, contacting people you hadn’t talked to in ages. There were a few distant friends and relatives who’d been taken by the Blip, and your heart ached at the ones you hadn’t been able to see one last time. 

“Besides,” you sighed, breaking your gaze from the fire as Tony came to sit across from you, “none of you would have let me leave even if I really tried.”

He leaned back, stretching his body nonchalantly, and you noticed how weary  and thin he actually looked. Dark circles under his eyes, and his fingers seemed to be twitching or twiddling consistently.

“What happened to you?” you muttered. “Why do you look like shit?”

“Oh, you know,” he said, waving his hand, “spent some merry time in space, that’s all. Wasn't planning on being stranded there, but here we are.”

You didn’t ask anything else. Instead you got up, walked to the near sink and pulled out a kettle from the cupboards to make yourself some tea. 

“Okay, let me ask you a question,” Tony said in the silence, twisting in his seat to watch you, resting his head on the back of the sofa. “How on earth did you end up falling head over heels for a psycho?”

You snorted, grabbing a teabag and a mug, “you could ask Pepper the same thing.”

Tony clutched his chest in mock offence, “Ouch. Cold-hearted.”

Grinning, you steeped your tea, and turned around to look at Tony, “it’s not that simple, Stark.”

“No, I think it is,” he said.

“Well fine,” you sighed, slightly exasperated, “she was in my house with me alone, for days. At some point we ended up talking and actually getting to know each other. She opened up to me, and I to her and.. that was it.”

“And how do you know she wasn’t lying to get a way out?”

“She wasn’t. She’d never.”

“But how do you know? Wasn’t it you who always thought you had to give things time? She’s lived for thousands of years, Y/N. You’re a fruit-fly compared to her.”

“Why has this turned into an interrogation?” you snapped. He held up his hands, 

“I’m not interrogating. Just trying to understand.”

“Why did Jane fall in love with Thor, huh? At the time he was a ridiculous, self-absorbed and mindless God who didn’t know how the hell this world worked. Why did Pepper fall in love with you? A narcissistic millionaire playboy who loves to play games and doesn’t take anything seriously?”

You paced the floor as your tea cooled down, fuming,

“Why the hell does anyone fall in love with anyone, huh? Who gets a fucking say in how they feel? And why do you guys have so little faith in me to trust what I feel? I’ve kept secrets for you, I’ve hidden you in my home, I’ve been a part of so much secrecy, and suddenly when I get a little heart-eyed at someone, you act as if I’ve been brainwashed.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a moment. When you met his eyes, they were a little wider than before, looking at you questioningly. 

“In love, huh?”

You blinked.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Uh-huh, you did.”

“N-no, I didn’t, I said I-”

Your face became red, fumbling over your words.

Tony got up from his seat and clapped his hands as he sauntered over to the exit.

“Let’s go sparring, hm? Haven’t done that in a while,” he offered. You tried to cool your cheeks, forgetting about your tea steeping behind you.

“That’s cause I always lose,” you retorted. “You guys work out like your life depends on it. Which... it does.. I guess.”

“Yeah, but look at the state of me,” Tony spread out his arms and did a spin. “I’m feeling like trash. You’ll take me down no problem.”

You doubted that, but followed him anyways. 

-

“Ah, fuck!” Hela swore as another branch tugged at her helmet.

“Will you shut up?” Loki hissed, crouching down and peeking through the trees. “God, you’re even more infuriating than Thor!”

Hela was breathing heavily, aching, grumpy. 

“You really are a pain when you’re not around Y/N, aren’t you? You’re not going to massacre all the Avengers just because you’re peeved, right?”

“Be silent, filth,” she spat. Her brother only rolled his eyes. “What do you see?”

“I thought you wanted me to be silent.”

Hela whacked the back of his head and he grimaced, 

“Alright, alright. Look yourself, it’ll be hard to get in undetected.”

Hela peered over his shoulder. He was right; there wasn’t a lot of hiding spaces or shadows. Well-lit with open spaces, the modern-style building looked quite distasteful to Hela. She pulled a face, both in annoyance and disgust,

Loki chuckled, “I’m glad you hate it too.”

“Shut up,” Hela hissed, before scurrying off further into the trees to explore the perimeter. 

“Where are you- Hela!” Loki whispered hoarsely, hurrying after her. 

She was looking for weak spots, places with no cameras, a spot to sneak in. But she also had no idea where you were, and with the vastness of the buildings she worried if she’d even find you on time.

“Hela,” Loki hissed. She shushed him again, eyes searching the upper floors.

“Hela!” 

“What?”

“Look,” Loki pointed downwards. A little further in the distance outside, surrounded by well lit lights, stood you and that iron-armoured man, both with wooden sticks in your hands, the length of a short blade, thick enough to wrap your whole hand around it.

“Come on, let’s go back, before they see us,” Loki hissed, grabbing Hela’s shoulder. “At least we know she’s here.”

But Hela couldn’t move. You were wearing dark grey sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie, and sturdy boots. You looked tired, but were a vision to her. The man with you wasn’t wearing his armour, and suddenly looked a lot less threatening.

Loki watched, amazed, as his sister’s armour shimmered. The horns disappeared from her head and her cape faded until she was only in black, blending into the darkness.

She dared another step closer.

“Widen your stance,” the man said, waving the stick around. “Now try to attack.”

Hela watched you practice, your grip a bit clumsy and your stance a bit wobbly, but you were determined. She recalled the day she pulled a fork on you as a weapon, and winced a bit at the memory of the fearful, defenceless look in your eyes.

“Like that?” she heard you say, bending your knees and lowering your core.

“Good, but stay light on your feet, otherwise you can’t dodge.”

Your voice was like music to her ears, and hot tears prickled at her eyes. She missed you. So much.

“Stark, what the hell are you trying to do?” two more men had appeared. One blonde, and large, wearing a tight shirt and jeans. The other, dark, dressed in similar casual clothes.

“Gentlemen! Welcome to this exclusive defence lesson.”

“You’re by far the worst defence teacher out of all of us, Stark. Y/N won’t learn shit from you.”

“You wound me, Captain.”

Hela watched you shake hands with the other.

“Oh, Y/N, this is our friend Rhodey, also known as the War Machine.”

“Pleased to meet you, despite the.. unideal circumstances,” the newcomer shook your hand respectfully and flashed a smile. Hela flared with jealousy, and subconsciously bared her teeth.

“Easy,” Loki whispered.

The four of you paired up, you against Tony, but watching Captain’s instructions as he sparred with Rhodey. 

You were not held under lock and key, and Hela worried a moment. Did you go willingly with them after all? Did you forget about her? Was it foolish to even attempt a rescue?

Your laugh rang into the night as Rhodey tackled a distracted Steve, and both dread and joy filled Hela’s heart.

“Okay, try again,” Tony encouraged you. You swung at him a few times as he blocked and dodged. 

Then, you saw her in the darkness. A flash of green eyes, and Tony took your distraction to his advantage, swiping your leg from under you and you fell to the ground with a thud.

Hela nearly shot out of the tree line to protect you if Loki hadn’t stopped her. Then she heard a groan and chuckle coming from you,

“I told you I’d lose.”

“Don’t get distracted then, kiddo.” Tony held out his hand and hoisted you up. Hela growled at the camaraderie and slunk back in the shadows. “What were you looking at?”

He began to turn to follow your eyeline, and you paled,

“N-nothing! I- I was daydreaming.” He looked back at you.

“Not a good idea to daydream while fighting, Y/N,” Steve said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m not used to this, you know?”

“It’s about time you were taught,” Tony clapped your shoulder. 

“You want to learn anything from the War Machine himself?” Steve asked, nodding at Rhodey.

“Oh, I-I’d love to. But, maybe tomorrow?” you suggested, desperately trying to avoid looking at Hela in the distance. “I’m quite.. tired.”

The men seemed to agree and chatted as they headed back into the building. Tony swiped at Steve as they walked, who promptly tugged the sparring stick from him. 

You hurriedly looked around into the darkness, wanting to see another glimpse, hoping you didn’t imagine it. But when you couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, you worried if you really had gone insane.

Steve called after you, and your heavy feet carried you back inside to settle for the rest of the night.

A/N: Life is fucking INSANE. only a few chapters left for this!! Don’t ask me about the timeline alterations because me trying to make sense of the canon and trying to make it all fit is making my brain explode!! I hope you like it, love you all!!! Stay safeee

tag list: @midnight-lestrange​ @cheerfullyvenomous @germansarechill @gaylorrds @amii-nyc @waitingfortheendtocome @novakitten0901 @marvels-writings @jadewestwriter​ @thisisanexistentialcrisis​

[revengeisourlullaby]

If I Never Knew You Pt.4

Pt.1   Pt.2   Pt.3   Pt.4   Pt.5   Pt.6

Warnings:18+, angst, secret relationhsip, kinda royal au, arranged marriage plot

a/n: Part 4 everybody! I will be posting part 5 this evening bc this one is kinda fillerish so I don’t wanna leave y’all hanging for too long. If you wanna be tagged let me know! I’m sorry it gets a little bit more angsty before its resolves, but I promise it will resolve. 

Word count: 1.7K

Loki x female!reader

Sun shone through the arches in Loki’s bedroom, the fresh Asgardian air whirling through the room. You rolled on your side to get a look at your lover to see if sleep had evaded him yet. His eyes were still closed, lids flickering back and forth causing a smile to form on your face because you were wondering what he could be dreaming about. 

You returned to your back staring at the ceiling imagining that this atmosphere of serenity would soon be all yours to have until the end of days. Closing your eyes you tried to relish in it for a little while longer, but your thoughts would soon be rapping at your fantasy. Eating away at you with shame, guilt, and unfortunately a heavy dose of fear.

You grabbed the top silk sheet and pulled it over your exposed body. Sliding to the edge of the bed, you hang your head in disappointment. Knowing that in a few hours you would have to fight not only for your freedom but for your love. It was a nightmare come to life but you had to remember that nothing worthwhile in life came easy and if that meant losing in one aspect or another you felt that you could muster the courage to go through with it. You turned your head to gaze at Loki still sleeping and with a snap of a finger, your worries seemed to pale.

He was your strength, your rock, your whole world. He taught you more than you could ever have hoped to learn and most importantly he taught you how to be annoyingly persistent to get the things that you wanted in life. Not to say that you gave up easily but he showed you how to weasel your way into ensuring you got what your heart desired. Life is full of losing but he showed you how to make the best of it.

“Perhaps we should get someone to make you a personal statue of me so you can stare at it as long as you want.”

Loki’s voice pulled you from your thoughts and you felt heat rise up in your face.

“My apologies, I was just lost in thought. Didn’t mean to be staring at you as you woke up.”

Loki chuckled, finding your fluster endearing in the situation. Sitting up in the bed he patted the space on the bed where you were laying through the night. You scooted back into the bed making your way to Loki where he wrapped his hands in yours and stared at you. 

A gentle seriousness cast upon his face.

“Understand that by mulling over the situation you dread to confront, you will make it harder in the process to assemble the resolution you seek. You mustn't fear what you fear, but rather take it head-on like a bull. And with the stubbornness you harbor, I know you have it in you.”

You snorted a little extra air out of your nose at his ending comment. Knowing he was always at the receiving end of your stubborn nature. At first somewhat annoying but became something he loved about you in a little time.

“I would run to the edge of time for you Loki. Even though it’s just my childhood home I’m going to have to run in and declare my objections, love, and fears to the people that brought me into this world. It feels like I’m running into a rabid lion’s den, but I would be lying if I didn’t say the preemptive catharsis I’m feeling is liberating.”

You squeezed his hand and looked up at him, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes soft. It looked as if he was about to cry.

“Not for nothing but I always figured I would be alone, especially in a romantic fashion. Then you came quite literally out of nowhere and I never grasped the thought that finding you in that garden a year ago would make that fear wither away. For that, I am eternally grateful to you.”

Your eyes and face softened from its initial confused form to that of warmth and admiration. You even failed to realize the tears beginning to prickle at your water line. Not of sadness but rather pure happiness. At this moment you knew that Loki was the soulmate you were meant to meet in this lifetime. The words he spoke struck a chord within you because you too felt the same way. 

That loneliness was just a card in your deck you were left to bear, but Loki let the hopeless romanticism within you survive the trials of life.

“Eternally yours, Loki. I am eternally yours. Through all either of our falls, we are each other’s stone. Let’s rewrite this acrid end and finally enjoy our story.” Loki’s hands wrapped around your face, looking into your eyes searching for any falsity in your being and he found none. 

You brought your hand up to his face and moved a strand of hair out of his face, allowing for him to be on full display to you. You opened your mouth to say words but they fell off, afraid that they would feel foreign on your tongue. You tried again and Loki’s mouth parted at the same time.

“I love you.” The words echoing from being said at the same time. The meaning ringing throughout each of your ears becoming fully aware that the truth was being shared between the two of you. Loki placed a tender kiss upon your lips and you relished in the sincerity of it. Pulling away you decided there was no better time than the present.

“I suppose I should be heading back home to face the one last hurdle for us.”

“Right. Let me fix your dress for you.”

Standing up from the bed you waltzed around the rail of the bed and found the shredded pieces of fabric that once was your dress.

“You sure you can magic this back together?”

You cocked your eyebrow unsure of the possibility of the repair of your dress. Opening his mouth, nothing but a squeak escaped from his throat realizing the predicament you two were in.

“I may have another idea. Just wait here for a moment.” Loki got himself dressed and left his quarters to head somewhere you knew not of. Before he left he turned his head behind the door to look at you.

“Help yourself to anything in the bathroom and get ready otherwise besides your clothing.”

You nodded your head and waved him off to wherever he was going. Walking to the bathroom you stared at your reflection in the large grandiose mirror that adorned one of the walls. You were glowing. Your eyes actually held something other than resentment and fear. You looked like yourself. 

Something you hadn’t seen in years. Smiling you finished getting yourself ready and when you were getting ready to turn on your heel you heard the door open. Stopping in your tracks you hid in the corner, but soon hearing Loki’s voice you released a sigh of relief. Stepping out of the bathroom Loki had a midnight blue dress draped over his arm.

“I figured my mother would’ve had something she could spare and she did and I feel that it will suit you just right.”

Tentatively you reached out to grab the dress from his hands

“And you’re sure she’s okay with this?”

“Yes darling, she’s the only one besides Thor that is aware of what’s going on. I can’t wait for her to meet you. Now, go ahead and try it on.”

Rolling the dress up in your hands you pulled it over your head and wiggled your arms into the sleeves. 

Letting the dress fall down to the floor after fitting it over your torso you were in awe. The color complementing your skin, the sleeves falling off your shoulders and the gold accents on the neckline was much more beautiful than what you were imagining.

“You look stunning. Well, you always do but especially today.”

“Thank you, Loki.”

You smiled and wrapped your arms around Loki’s neck.

“Wish me luck?” “Luck is for losers, I’ll wish you strength and perseverance.” “Good enough.”

Standing on your toes lightly you brought yourself to his lips and shared what you were to find out to be the last tranquil and harmonious kiss. You pulled away and smiled at him. Bending over you grabbed your satchel and shoes that you threw into the room earlier yesterday. Walking to the door, Loki sped up behind you to open it.

“What are you doing?”

“What kind of man would I be if I let my lady not only walk alone but to open her own doors?”

“Chivalry isn’t dead!”

You smiled at him knowing your sarcasm was endearing. Walking you out to the front of the palace where you came in yesterday you turned to look at him and little worry apparent in your features. You reached for his hand squeezing it in your own in search of some type of reassurance. Loki reached for your other hand and turned you to face him fully.

“Whatever happens Y/N, I’ll always be with you. Forever.”

Placing your hand upon his cheek, you thumbed his soft skin and placed a strand of hair behind his ear. Sighing you found your fire once again and you looked at him. Silently letting him know that you were ready.

“I’ll see you, hopefully, this evening Loki...and hopefully with good news.” 

Removing your hands from each other you walked down the steps and your feet crunched the earth beneath your shoes. Getting one last look, you waved at Loki and you began the walk back to your home. Preparing for the worst but foolishly wishing for the best.

[tarlos-spain]

Comfortember Day 13 - Confession

Fandom: 9-1-1 Lone Star

Pairing: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand

Characters: Carlos Reyes, TK Strand

That weight you carry inside

Carlos has something to confess TK and fears about his reaction

Carlos had been nervous all day and TK knew that her boyfriend was not a person who got nervous easily. He had barely said anything all morning and every time he stared at him, she could tell he had something on his mind, something he hadn't told her.

Being with Carlos he had learned that she had to give him space and time to tell her things. Just as he had been slow to introduce him to his parents because he didn't feel safe, now Tk was allowing him that space he needed to tell him whatever it was that was bothering him.

It wasn't until the sun was setting and by then TK was really worried. A few days earlier Carlos had had his medical checkup at work and had been told it would be a few days before he got the results.

He hadn't told him anything about it.

Maybe he had them, maybe something had come back that wasn't quite right, maybe it was something bad. Either way, TK needed to know, or at least he needed to know if he had to be prepared for something bad.

He also thought it was about their relationship something that didn't go between them. After Alex, he couldn't help but think that love didn't last forever and that his thing with Carlos had come to an end because his boyfriend had found someone else or simply because he had grown tired of him.

The worst possibilities, after a whole day seeing that Carlos wanted to tell her something but didn't know how flew through her mind and when Carlos finally said that "Ty, baby, we need to talk." she felt herself stop breathing.

Carlos led him over to the couch and sat down across from him.

"Babe what's wrong? You're worrying me, do I have to worry?" "No, no, no." Carlos stammered and ran a hand over his face. "It's not something to worry about, it was actually something I wanted to tell you a long time ago; I know it's silly... but I don't know, for a lot of people it's not silly and everyone looks at it favorably."

TK grabbed both his hands, he was talking too fast, he was about to choke on his own words. He looked into his eyes, that always worked, no matter how complicated the situation was their gazes meeting was something that made them both feel better almost immediately.

"Babe, whatever it is, as long as you're not going to leave me, we'll work it out together." "Leave you? No, TK. Of course I'm not leaving you. Shit, I made you think that. God no, I'm sorry."

TK took a deep breath, suddenly calmer. Now all that was left was to be sure it wasn't a health problem and especially not one that had no solution.

"Are you feeling okay, does it have anything to do with the tests you did the other day for work?" "No... no, I'm perfectly fine. It came back perfect and I forgot to tell you." "Then what's so terrible that you look like you're about to drown and you're in a hurry to tell me?"

Carlos ran a hand over his head and stroked TK's cheek. Now he really didn't understand anything.

"It's about tomorrow." "Tomorrow? What's happening tomorrow?"

TK started to reminisce, he knew it wasn't their anniversary or either of their birthdays and he hadn't marked anything on his calendar.

"Tomorrow your team, Vega, Nancy and you are coming with the police, with me to the club downtown to help us with the poisoning investigation." "Oh, yes, that's right, the local drag. Tell me it's not a problem for you that we're working together. But if I'm going to throw you off or something I can ask for the day off and Paul can go in my place, I'm sure he'll help you more than me in the investigation."

Carlos took his boyfriend's hands again, now they were both nervous and TK didn't even know why he was nervous when a moment ago he wasn't nervous. Carlos's must have been contagious.

"I love the idea of working with you so I can see you all day." He took a deep breath and TK watched him count to ten before he spoke. "It's more about I don't want you to find out at the club, surely all my mates there will find out, I don't think the girls are going to be discreet when they see me turn up and certainly not after so long." TK listened in silence, now he really didn't understand what was going on. "I... I worked at that place a long time ago, when I was in the academy. I needed money and because of some friends, I was offered to go in there." "Oh, so were you one of those waiters that go between tables with your shirt off or were you behind the bar? Too bad I didn't know you then." TK smiled and let his imagination run wild at what it would have been like to see him with tray in hand and shorts as all his clothes. "Shit, that makes me jealous of everyone who's seen you. Tell me at least they couldn't lay a hand on you." "I wasn't a bartender TK, in those kind of venues, usually, everyone, up stage, between the tables and at the bar there are only drag queens working." "Okay, sorry, I thought..." TK stopped speaking as he recapitulated the words Carlos had just said. "Wait," The smile widened on his face again. "You're telling me that you've been... you've done... you've been a drag queen while you were studying at the police academy."

Carlos nodded without taking his eyes off him.

TK soon realized he was getting flushed, nervous, hysterical like he had never seen him before.

"What do you think?" Carlos finally blurted out in a tremulous voice. "I want to see pictures of your other self, of that fantastic queen... What was your name?" Carlos burst out laughing and buried his head between TK's hands and his own. "Don't look at me like that, we've been watching so many years of Drag Race that now that you've told me like that I'm not curious to know if you were like the queens that perform on the show. Come on, please tell me what your name was." "Lynn Miranda." "Lynn...Miranda...I love it. Tell me there's some video, I can't wait to see you. Did you sing, dance or were you a comic queens?" "TK, when people find out tomorrow, because I'm sure they will find out..."

TK pulled Carlos to sit next to him on the couch, wrapped both arms around his neck and kissed him to calm him down and mostly to not let him finish talking.

"Tomorrow is tomorrow. Right now, what you just told me is our secret and if I tell you the truth, I can't stop thinking that I want to meet Lynn Miranda. You won't have...." "Tiger, you don't think I have any of the wigs from those times or the dresses stashed around here?" "Nothing? None?"

Carlos was silent, it was more than TK needed to have his answer. He moved closer to Carlos and kissed him on the cheek and then on the neck to finish by whispering in my ear.

"You don't know what I'm getting excited at the thought of seeing you in drag and taking you to bed so I can undress you." "Ty...don't be naughty." "They may try to make you ashamed of that part of your life tomorrow," She kissed him again and knew where and how to touch him to calm him down or to slowly turn him on. "But right now you're sharing it with me and I can't wait to meet Lynn Mirada and discover her talents. "Ty, you are... very bad." "Or very good, depends on how you look at it. And tell me something, how would I look in one of Lynn's dresses? Would you... like me to try it on? But of course, if you don't have any."

Carlos jumped up and grabbed TK by the hand. He didn't have those things in sight, that's why they had never fallen into his boyfriend's hands. But he knew exactly where to find them in the garage. They were well stored in boxes, without dust and far from any damage, ready to be used on a night like that.

Carlos certainly hadn't imagined the conversation would end up like this, but he wasn't complaining about the idea that Tk liked Lynn Miranda and they would get along, because if there was one thing his other self didn't lack, it was talents that were going to drive TK crazy.